Mother’s Gifts

I opened my eyes to the sound of running water. Unlike yesterday, the sound was loud enough to wake me up. I hadn't yet left my modest tent because my thoughts were elsewhere. It seems that last night's dream was just an exception; I didn't dream of it again tonight. The old dream returned, giving me some comfort and false security. Since I have no expectations regarding dreams, this helped me forget the experience quickly.

I took a deep breath to clear my head and got up from my sleeping place after securing the silver dagger inside my clothes. I stepped out of my modest tent into the serene world of the rainforest.

The first thing that caught my attention was the vibrant dance of dawn's colors. The trees, like guardians of this peaceful world, stood tall with their flaming red leaves, creating a stark contrast with the calm blue sky peeking through their branches.

First and foremost, I had to take care of the priorities on this beautiful morning: tidying up my camp, feeding my father's old horse, and feeding myself before heading towards the soothing sound of running water.

Once I finished this daily routine, I gathered all my belongings and the items my mother had left for me on the horse and headed towards the soothing sound. I didn't need to use the poorly copied map because I was sure of my direction. I also couldn't ride the horse because I had already lost that privilege due to the rough terrain.

As I wandered through this peaceful forest, I was surrounded by a strange calm. Giant trees with silver-white trunks as white as snow rose above me, their roots intertwining above to form a canopy that blocked the dawn's rays while allowing a little to pass through. Each leaf was colored in bright shades of red, creating a stark contrast with the pale bark.

With each passing second, the sound of running water grew stronger. In front of me, a cluster of seaweed swayed in the gentle breeze. I used my stick, which had proven effective, to move the seaweed aside enough for me and the horse to pass. What met my gaze on the other side brought a smile to my face.

A gentle stream flowed through the rainforest, its waters sparkling under the dawn's rays filtering through the canopy above. The wet rocks adorning its path were covered in red algae and a small cluster of hand-sized red fungi, a testament to the life provided by the pure water.

The air here pulsed with a symphony of rustling leaves and flowing water, creating an atmosphere of tranquility that spoke to the soul.

I lifted my gaze from the stream towards the soft glow illuminating the horizon. The thin mist rises from where the water met the ground. My breath formed clouds in the cold air as I said to myself, "I'm close."

Although I found the water, I hadn't yet reached the Old Lady River, but this stream was proof that I was on the right path. All I had to do was follow it, though this would be challenging given the rough terrain and the many differently sized stones in sight. But I never expected it to be easy. As my mother says, 'To walk the path of progress, don't lighten your steps.'

A small smile formed on my lips at the memory of this. My dear mother says many things, some clear, some mysterious, and some insulting. But everything she used to teach us, my six siblings and me, proved effective in one way or another.

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But this also reminded me of the dawn of the previous day. What I did then was sort through everything my mother had left with my father's old horse. I couldn't do that on the night of my failed escape attempt because I was tired from the conversation I had with my mother that night. But the next morning, I had time to do it.

I know that traveling for a long time requires several essential items, and I also know that I acted foolishly thinking I could make it work with just my small preparations at the time. But I am also excused because my initial plan was to sneak out of the house, and I didn't have the resources to prepare for this journey either secretly or openly.

But my dear mother covered this aspect with everything she prepared for me. Whether personal gear: a variety of clothes suitable for different weather conditions I might face, plus four pairs of sturdy and comfortable shoes. She also left me a collection of lightweight, non-perishable food, some dry and some salty, so I could continue carrying it even after selling the horse. Water wasn't a big problem given the nature I was traveling in, with water pools of various sizes scattered everywhere in the rainforest.

Although I brought my own provisions bag, compared to the comprehensive provisions bag from my mother, mine seems much more modest. My mother's bag contained small, travel-friendly cooking tools like a pot and a pan, and also repair and maintenance tools.

There were also horse care tools, such as a brush for cleaning and tools for repairing and maintaining the bridle and saddle. I didn't see the necessity for these last items, but if I were to get the best price for this horse, 'appearances have their own power,' as my mother says. I could also sell them along with the horse or separately in the town at the river's mouth

As for survival tools, she left me a tent for protection against the weather, a firestone for lighting fires, and a complete map, unlike the poor sketch I had prepared for myself, though I haven't opened the latter yet. There was also a compass for direction.

It's embarrassing to say, but I hadn't prepared any of these things. I was relying on the forest as cover instead of a tent, but how long would the forest last for me? As for the fire, it wasn't a problem; I could use my fragile power to cover that aspect. My mother knew this too, but she left the firestone just as a precaution. As for the map and compass, they were a necessity. I tried my best to redraw the map at our farmhouse, but I'm a terrible artist. As for the compass, I was relying on the Old Lady River and still am, but it will show its value when I move to the other islands unknown to me.

Regarding security, my mother left me a way to store money safely. As for something like a weapon for self-defense, she didn't leave me anything like that. I didn't know if she knew about my possession of the silver dagger; she probably did, but in any case, she wouldn't encourage me to carry a weapon.

All these things would help ensure my comfort and safety during this long journey. But that wasn't all. She also left me something very strange. It was a box half an arm's length long and shallow in height. It didn't look special in any way. But it had its own peculiarity; the wood it was made of was dark brown, if it could even be called wood.

Although I had heard of something like this, seeing it was a unique experience compared to the silver-white wood I grew up seeing every day.

Five of the six sides of the box were well-polished, without any impurities, but the top side bore crudely and roughly engraved writing, suggesting that the person who did it had little experience.

I don't want to make any assumptions, but I'm quite sure this was done by my dear mother, and there are many theories to support this assumption. First, my mother isn't good at wood carving; no one in our family is, and the writing style clearly shows this. Second, she was the one who placed this strange wooden box with the other items. Third, to be honest, my mother is a mysterious person; she always has been, and this seems like something she would do. And the last and most important reason that makes me sure this was done by my mother is simply what is written on the top side of the strange box.

WHEN YOU THINK YOU ARE READY

OPEN THE BOX

AND YOU MIGHT LEARN SOMETHING

SURVIVE MY ONE