The boy stood at the forest's edge, his heart hammering against his ribs like a frantic drummer. Dread coiled in his gut as he scanned the shadowy depths of the trees, a primal fear urging him to flee. But his escape was blocked by a sheer cliff behind him, trapping him. The ominous snort of a colossal beast sent a shiver down his spine, freezing him in place.

Though every fiber of his being screamed to look away, his gaze was inexorably drawn to the source of his terror: a demonic boar, monstrous in size, its sharp, bloody tusks gleaming in the dim light. Its eyes burned with fierce malevolence as they locked onto him. As the creature fixed him with its hateful stare, he inched closer to the cliff's edge, resigned to his fate. If death awaited him either way, he reasoned, he might as well meet it on his own terms.

But before he could make a final decision, searing agony lanced through his side, causing him to lose his footing. After a sickening lurch, he hurtled through the air, the sensation of weightlessness enveloping him like a suffocating shroud. The world blurred into a dizzying whirl around him as he plummeted, the rush of wind roaring in his ears.

Desperately, he reached out towards the rocky cliff face, his fingers clawing at the air in a frantic attempt to find purchase. But his grasp found nothing but emptiness, leaving him to continue his spiral downward into the abyss below.

Panic gripped him like a vice, his heart racing like a wild stallion. The rushing wind tore at his clothes and hair, drowning out all other sounds save for the thundering of his pulse. As the ground rushed up to meet him, he braced himself for the inevitable impact, his stomach churning with dread.

As soon as his face was on the brink of meeting the rocky dirt below he jolted awake. Gasping for air, he found himself wrapped in bandages, his body drenched in cold sweat. Wincing at the dull throbbing from his injuries, he took in his surroundings.

This is… this is my bedroom. How, when did I… How did I get here? How did I escape? Relief flooded him as he realized it had all been a dream.

Reclining back onto his bed, he stared at the familiar patterns etched into the flat cedar wood planks of his bedroom ceiling. Morning light streamed through the window to his left, casting a golden hue upon the floating specks of dust dancing in the air. The soft sounds of activity from the tavern kitchen below drifted to his ears, a comforting reminder of the world outside his troubled dreams.

I'm alive.

Tears welled up in his eyes, stinging them as they blurred his surroundings, the weight of the realization settling heavily upon him.

I'm safe.

Silent tears streamed down his cheeks, tracing paths like gentle rivers onto the soft cotton pillow beneath his head.

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"I'm home," he whispered, his voice barely audible, choked with relief and disbelief.

"I'm home," he repeated, his voice breaking as he surrendered to the flood of emotions, sobbing uncontrollably.

His bedroom door burst open. "Mythra?" A concerned and shocked voice came from his doorway. Hurried footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor as the figure he longed for most in the world rushed to his side. She quickly placed a tray carrying a rag soaking in cool water on his bedside table before kneeling beside him. Gently she wrapped him in a warm embrace, stroking his hair as he cried harder into her chest.

I'm home.

"It's alright, I'm here now. Are you hurting? Does Mommy need to go get the healer again?" Normally, he hated it when she called herself "Mommy"; it made him feel too childish. But today, her comforting voice eased his broken spirit, though her words stirred a pang of guilt within him.

She had to call the healer. How much had that cost her?

He cried harder, wracked with remorse, but shook his head to indicate he wasn't in any pain.

All I ever do is make things worse. Why can't I ever do anything right?

"Shh, it's alright now, you're safe," she murmured, her voice a gentle caress. "Everything is going to be alright. Don't worry, Mommy will take care of everything. Just rest and let the medicine do its work. You really scared me, you know? I'm so thankful you're back home. Thank Ninmah for showing me the way, for bringing my baby back to me." Her words were like a soothing balm, easing his troubled emotions as he nestled deeper into her embrace. For a long moment, they simply clung to each other, grateful to be reunited once more.

Mythra broke the silence, his voice soft as he spoke, "Mom, I'm sorry, I…"

"None of that now," his mother interjected gently, her tone soothing. "We can talk about it when you recover. Just focus on getting better." Her words were reassuring, carrying a silent promise of patience and understanding. "The healer said you'd need to be in bed for a few days before the elixir fully mends all your injuries inside and out. You'll be quite tired for a while. Those concoctions always steal all the energy from you. So, rest."

She paused, a warmth infusing her voice. "I'll go get you some food from the kitchen. Before the rooster even stirred old Isa's been clanking away in there. I think she's been as anxious as I have about you. She'll definitely give you a heaping helping, so make sure to eat it all, alright? Your body needs to recover its strength. Do you understand?"

Mythra nodded his head in compliance.

His mother's affectionate smile filled his heart with the last bit of much-needed warmth, her skin boasting a rich chestnut hue that caught the morning sun's glow like freshly made honey. Her doe-like amber-brown eyes glowed in the sunlight, radiating enough love and tenderness to fill the room.

"It's only fitting that she stuffs you with food. After all, how would we ever have so much delicious pork to cook without our valiant hunter, hmm?" She winked at him, a warm chuckle escaping her lips as she playfully ruffled his hair and tenderly caressed his soft cheeks. "I love you, baby. Now rest. I'll bring the food up later, and I'm sure the other girls will want to check on you too."

With a final embrace and a tender kiss planted firmly on his forehead, she rose from her knees and quietly departed, leaving Mythra alone with his thoughts.

For a time, he lay comfortably on his reed-stuffed mattress. No thoughts entered his mind. He just returned to staring at the slats, folds, and knots of the cedar wood ceiling above him. The dust still fluttered about catching the soft morning light and casting a gentle glow throughout the room. His mother's warm vanilla fragrance intertwined with the freshness of the cedar woods, lingering in the air like a soft embrace. It enveloped him, soothing his senses and grounding him in the familiar comfort of home.

Amidst the tranquility, he became aware of the distant sounds of the tavern's bustle and the lively chatter of neighbors and passersby. The world was stirring to life, each noise a thread in the tapestry of morning activity. Gently closing his eyes, he surrendered himself to the symphony of the waking world, finding solace in its familiar rhythms. It was the sweetest lullaby he'd ever heard, the song of home, gently lulling him back into blissful sleep.