Since I was a child, school had always fascinated me. Unlike most of my classmates, who dreaded studying, I thrived on it. My mother’s proud smile, her eyes lighting up over something as small as a piece of candy given to me for good behavior, is a memory I hold onto. It’s funny how we tend to overlook the simplest joys in life.

“Aidan! Aidan! Are you still not ready? What have you been doing all this time?”

“Huh? Oh, right. Give me a second, I’m almost ready.”

I tend to get lost in my thoughts—it’s a bad habit I’ve been trying to shake for years. We should already be out the door, and here I am daydreaming.

“The soles of those shoes…” my father muttered as I hurried past him, “they’re terrible.”

“Hm?” I glanced down at the frayed footwear. “Don’t worry, Dad. They’re not uncomfortable.”

“How can they not be? You’re practically walking barefoot.”

“You just don’t get it. It’s part of the design—multipurpose shoes,” I joked with a weak smile, hoping to ease his concern.

Normally, he would’ve laughed, but instead, his brows furrowed deeper. “I’d try gluing them back together, but—”

“We don’t have the means,” I cut in softly. “It’s okay, Dad. If it starts bothering me, I’ll tell you, I promise.”

“Alright…” He sighed heavily, his worry etched into every line on his face.

A sharp knock on the front door cut through the moment. It was strange—visitors this early were rare. I started toward the door, but before I could reach it, my father’s hand gripped my wrist firmly.

“I’ll get it,” he said, his tone low and unreadable.

Our eyes met, and I understood without words. I nodded, stepping back as he moved past me. Instead of lingering, I retreated to the kitchen, giving him the privacy he clearly needed.

“Morning, Mom. How did you sleep?”

“I slept well, honey. Here, don’t leave the house with an empty stomach.”

“Thanks…”

She placed a small piece of bread and a glass of water on the table. That was breakfast—meager, but given our circumstances, it was more than I expected. For months now, life in Dalmora had deteriorated. Most resources were funneled toward the army. The war hadn’t just stagnated the economy; it had hollowed it out entirely.

“Is something wrong, honey?”

“It’s nothing.” I took a small sip from the glass, leaving it half full. “Is Elyra still asleep?”

“You know how she is. She stays up late reading every night.”

“I didn’t think she loved reading that much,” I said, chuckling softly.

“She’s just like you were. I remember when you were her age, you’d sneak into our room late at night with a book in hand.”

“True. We’ve always been a family of readers.”

“And proudly so!”

No matter how bleak things were, talking to my mom always lifted my spirits. Her optimism was infectious, her warmth a constant. She had once been the heart of the town tavern, her love of cooking bringing people together. When the war began, the tavern shut its doors, and her job disappeared. I can still picture her smile in that place, surrounded by laughter and the scent of fresh bread. I wish she could go back one day.

“By the way, I’m not hungry.” I set the glass and bread back on the table.

“Excuse me? What are you saying? Aidan, you can’t go out to work with your father on an empty stomach. You’ll collapse.”

“You know I don’t feel like eating first thing in the morning. I’ll be fine.”

“But—”

“We need to save what little we have. I’d rather Elyra gets to eat.”

The kitchen fell into a heavy silence. Mom thought she was hiding it well, but I wasn’t blind. The dispensary was nearly empty, and there was barely enough food to last the week. Both she and Dad had lost significant weight in recent months, skipping meals to ensure Elyra and I could still eat.

“How long have you known?”

“It’s obvious. Look at yourself in the mirror. And Dad… he fainted twice last week while we were in the fields.” I paused, lowering my voice. “You might be able to fool Elyra, but not me.”

“We didn’t want to worry you, honey…”

“I know. I’m not upset, but I wish you’d tell me these things. I’m an adult too, you know.”

“You’re right… I’m sorry. It’s just, with so much going on, we didn’t want every morning to start with bad news…”

I reached out, gently taking one of her frail hands in mine. “We’re a family, Mom. We’ll get through this together.”

Her smile wavered as a tear slipped down her cheek. “You’ve grown so much, my son.”

“Hey! It’s a little offensive that you’re only just realizing.”

“In my eyes, you’ll always be my baby, you know.”

“Mom, I’m 20.”

“You always say that.”

I could have stayed in the kitchen, talking with her all morning. But my father’s raised voice echoed from the entrance, sharp and uncharacteristically angry. The words were muffled, but his tone left no doubt—something was wrong.

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“I think I’d better see what’s going on.”

“Alright,” Mom said, her smile dimming. “But remember, don’t let your temper get the better of you in front of those people.”

“I know. I just want to understand what’s happening.”

I released her hand and made my way to the front of the house. With each step, my father’s words grew clearer, the tension in his voice clawing at me. He was not an easy man to upset, which only made my unease deepen.

“You’re going to kill us all!” My father’s voice cracked with rage, his words cutting through the morning air. This was not a good sign.

“Just remember, this isn’t optional. The new quota applies to all farmers in the area. You’re not special, so stop whining,” retorted the soldier coldly.

“You’re demanding nearly everything we produce in a year! What the hell are we supposed to live on through winter?”

As I suspected, my father was once again arguing with someone from the State Guard. It happened every time they came, and every time it only brought more trouble.

From a distance, I watched the scene unfold. Standing stiffly in his polished uniform, the soldier loomed over my father. Once the Police Force, the State Guard had been absorbed into the army, their uniforms and ranks inflated with misplaced authority. These soldiers weren’t protectors anymore—they were enforcers.

“I’ve already told you what to do,” the soldier barked, his patience fraying. “Meet the damn quota and shut up.”

“You’re supposed to be here to help us! Useless bastard! You’re a disgrace—”

Before my father could finish, the soldier struck him across the face with the hilt of his sword. The blow landed with a sickening thud, and my father crumpled to the ground like a rag doll.

“Dad!” I rushed to his side, dropping to my knees. Blood poured from his broken nose, staining the dirt beneath him.

“Maybe this will teach him to keep his mouth shut,” the soldier sneered, standing over us.

“Dad, can you hear me?” My hands hovered uselessly, trembling as I tried to assess the damage.

Hearing the commotion, my mother came running from the kitchen. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw my father lying in the dirt, blood streaming from his face.

“What is this!? Are you out of your mind!?” she screamed, her voice raw with desperation.

The soldier’s expression darkened. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword as he raised it again, this time aiming for my mother.

“No, no, stop!” I jumped between them, my hands raised in surrender. My heart raced as fear and adrenaline coursed through me. “Wait! Please, wait! We’ll meet the quota! W-whenever you want, it’ll be ready!”

The soldier stared at me coldly for a moment before sheathing his sword. Without another word, he turned and left. My legs shook uncontrollably as the tension drained from my body. I had never been in a situation like this before. I didn’t even know how I’d managed to stop him—I just had to.

Then I heard her voice.

“W-why did that man do that to Papa?”

My heart stopped. Elyra. She’d seen everything.

"Elyra... Don’t worry," I said, forcing myself to stand. My movements felt heavy, like wading through mud. No child should have to see something like this. I knelt down to meet her gaze, blocking her view of our parents.

“A-Aidan?”

“Calm down, little one.” I pulled her into a hug, resting her head against my chest. She didn’t need to see anything more.

Behind me, my mother’s trembling voice broke the silence. "I’ll take your father to his room..."

I glanced over my shoulder to see my father struggling to his feet, supported by my mother. His face was pale, his movements unsteady, but he was alive. Barely.

“Yes, Mom,” I said. “I’ll come with you in a moment.”

As they left, I stayed with Elyra, holding her a little longer.

“Hey,” I said softly, "aren’t you hungry?”

“H-hungry...?” she murmured, her voice small.

“Come on.” I stood and guided her to the kitchen. Pulling out the piece of bread my mother had set aside for me earlier, I handed it to her. “Do you like it?”

She stared at it for a moment before shaking her head. “N-no... We always eat the same thing. I don’t want bread.”

“I know it’s hard, but if you eat all the bread, you’ll get a prize.”

Her small face lit up with curiosity. “A prize?”

“Yeah.” I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. “If you finish all the bread, I’ll take you to Mama’s tavern again.”

Her eyes widened, and for a fleeting moment, her innocent excitement shone through. “Really? You promise?”

“I promise,” I lied, forcing a smile.

The tavern was gone, burned to ash like everything else. There was no prize, no happy day waiting at the end of all this. But she didn’t need to know that. Not now.

“Okay! I’ll eat all of it, and you’ll take me to the tavern!”

“That’s the deal.” I smiled again, even as the weight in my chest grew heavier.

As she nibbled on the bread, I rose to leave. “There’s water here if you get thirsty. I’m going to check on Mama and Papa.”

“What? But I want to go too!” she said, her lips forming a pout.

I crouched beside her again, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Not this time, Elyra. I need you to stay here and finish your breakfast, okay? Be good for me.”

Her pout deepened, but she nodded. “Okay...”

I stood and turned, glancing back just once before heading toward my parents’ room. Her small figure, still munching on the bread, was a fragile light in the growing shadows of our world. I just hoped my lie would buy her a little more time to hold on to that light.

“We have one month to give him a big amount of the wheat we have grown…” My father said in a low, defeated tone.

“The harvests have been good this year. How much did they ask?”

“Ninety percent.”

My heart sank as I heard my father's words. Ninety percent of our harvest meant practically nothing would be left for us to survive the winter. Even with good harvests, there was no way we could meet such an outrageous demand and still sustain ourselves.

"That's insane..." I muttered under my breath, clenching my fists.

"It’s impossible," my mother whispered, her voice trembling. "We barely have enough to get by as it is."

"We'll figure something out," my father said, though his tone betrayed the words. He wasn't convincing anyone—not even himself. His face was pale, his broken nose still bleeding slightly despite my mother's attempt to clean it up.

"No, we won't." The words escaped me before I could stop them. My parents looked at me, startled by the harshness in my voice. I continued, "Not if we keep letting them treat us like this. Ninety percent? They’re not just taking our crops—they’re taking our lives!"

“Aidan,” my mother began softly, “please, don't talk like that. We can't fight them.”

“Why not?” I snapped. “Because they have swords? Because they wear uniforms? They’re supposed to protect us, not beat us into submission.”

“Aidan.” My father’s voice cut through my frustration like a blade. “Enough. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” I retorted. “We’re going to starve if we don’t do something. Dad, you passed out in the fields last week. Mom, you’ve stopped eating so Elyra can have your share. How long can we keep this up?”

My father looked at me, his weary eyes filled with a mixture of anger and helplessness. "And what do you propose we do, son? March into their barracks and demand fair treatment? They’d laugh in your face before cutting you down."

“I... I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice faltering. “But I can’t just stand by and watch this happen. There has to be another way.”

“Aidan, we’ve survived this long by keeping our heads down,” my mother said. “We don’t have the strength to defy them. Please, don’t put yourself in danger.”

The room fell silent, the weight of despair settling over us like a suffocating blanket. I wanted to argue, to scream that there had to be a solution, but the truth was, I didn’t have one. All I had was anger and a growing sense of helplessness.

"I'll figure something out," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I promise, I won’t let this destroy us."

Neither of my parents responded, their silence speaking louder than words ever could. I turned and left the room, my mind racing. For Elyra’s sake—for all of our sakes—I had to find a way to protect what little we had left.

As I stepped into the dim light of the hallway, I heard my father’s voice behind me, low and broken.

“We’ve lost so much already, this is it.”

I stopped, my chest tightening. I couldn’t let their fear hold me back. If I didn’t act, we’d lose everything. But deep down, I knew he was right. Whatever path I chose, it would come with a price—and I wasn’t sure I was ready to pay it.