“Eldric! Eldric!” A girl’s voice pierced through the haze, desperate and trembling.

The sound echoed in Eldric’s ears, dragging him from the depths of unconsciousness. He strained against the weight pinning him down, his eyelids fluttering as if burdened by stones. Finally, a sliver of light broke through, and he saw her—Fiora. Tears streamed down her face, her eyes wide with fear as she knelt beside him.

He tried to speak, to offer her some reassurance, but his lips wouldn’t move. His body felt leaden, every effort to stir met with resistance. Panic began to creep in, his thoughts a tangle of confusion and dread.

“It’s going to be okay,” came another voice, soft but firm.

Before he could process the words, a second voice, sharper and brimming with resolve, followed. “We’ll fix this.”

Eldric felt Fiora’s hands clutch him tighter, her grip trembling yet steadfast. Summoning every ounce of his strength, he turned his head toward the source of the voices. His vision blurred, shapes swimming together until they solidified into two figures standing over him—one cloaked in white, the other in black.

Rage ignited within him, burning through the fog of helplessness. No! he screamed inwardly, the words pounding in his head though his mouth refused to obey. Get away from us!

His body betrayed him again. His eyes slammed shut, and darkness consumed him.

----------------------------------------

A gasp tore from Eldric’s throat as his eyes flew open. He lay still, staring blankly at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. For a moment, he remained frozen, the remnants of the dream, clinging to him like a cold mist.

Shaking his head, he sat up, stretching stiff limbs as the chirping of birds filtered in through the window. The familiar sounds grounded him, the surreal fragments of the nightmare beginning to fade. He glanced around the room.

Next to him, his father’s bed was neatly made, its blankets tucked with practiced precision. The light-paneled walls and dark wooden floors came into sharper focus as sunlight filtered through the small window on the front wall. In the corner, a candle sat on the table, its once-proud form now reduced to a forlorn puddle of wax from the night before.

Eldric swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, yawning as he stretched. He wandered to the window, eager to catch a glimpse of the forest beyond the clearing. Pressing his hands against the glass, his excitement waned. Thick fog blanketed the clearing, swallowing the trees and obscuring everything beyond the porch.

Disappointed, he turned away and grabbed his clothes from the floor, slipping them on quickly before stepping into the main room. Across the way, Fiora’s door remained closed. He smirked faintly, muttering under his breath, Lazy.

Through the front window, he spotted his father leaning on the porch railing, his figure silhouetted against the gray wall of mist. Eldric stepped outside to join him, the brisk morning air biting at his skin and sending a shiver down his spine.

The two stood in silence for a moment, gazing into the fog, the world around them eerily quiet except for the faint rustle of leaves in the distance.

“Good morning,” Alaric said, his deep voice steady as he stood by the railing, gazing into the mist.

“Morning, Dad,” Eldric replied, rubbing his arms against the chill in the air. “What’s for breakfast?”

“There are some blackberry bushes not far from here,” Alaric said with a small grin. “And I managed to catch a rabbit last night. We should be able to whip that up into something… interesting.” His voice carried a hint of pride.

Eldric smirked. “Without Mom here to cook, interesting is a good way to put it. Guess we’ll just have to wait for Fiora to rise from the dead.”

Alaric chuckled, turning to his son with a knowing look. “Actually, she’s been up for hours. She went out for a run not too long ago.”

Eldric blinked in surprise, his face flushing. “Oh. I see.”

“She left not too long ago,” Alaric continued, his smirk deepening. “You could probably catch up to her. Just follow the main path and take a right. You’ll see a gravel trail that loops around the area.”

“I can do that,” Eldric said with a determined nod. He stretched his arms, preparing for the run.

“When you get back, the rabbit will be ready,” Alaric said, turning his gaze back to the fog-shrouded clearing. “Pick some blackberries on your way if you want something extra.”

“Will do!” Eldric called as he bolted down the stairs, excitement fueling his steps.

The cold air bit at Eldric’s face as he ran along the path, his breath visible in the crisp morning. The fog clung stubbornly to the ground, but as he moved, it seemed to lift, swirling away like smoke.

“I’ve never liked working the fields,” he muttered under his breath, his strides even and steady. “But it has one perk: all that grueling labor keeps me in great shape.”

The trees ahead loomed like shadowy sentinels as he approached the right-hand turn his father mentioned. He spotted the gravel path cutting into the woods and veered onto it, his pace quickening. He inhaled deeply, the earthy scent of damp leaves and moss filling his lungs, and surged forward, his feet pounding the ground in rhythm.

The only sounds accompanying him were the steady crunch of his footsteps and the cheerful songs of birds flitting through the canopy above, as if they were cheering him on.

As he ran, the fog finally dissipated completely, but the forest remained cloaked in shadow. Massive treetops interlocked far above, creating a dense ceiling that allowed only slivers of sunlight to filter through. The dim light lent the forest an otherworldly atmosphere, both enchanting and unsettling.

Eldric slowed, his gaze sweeping across the towering trees. Their sheer size left him awestruck. I always imagined the trees were big, but nothing like this, he thought, his breath catching in his chest.

The trunks were colossal, their gnarled bark textured like the scales of some ancient beast. Roots as thick as his torso snaked across the forest floor, twisting and interweaving in a labyrinthine network. Here and there, small bushes defiantly pushed their way through the tangles, their green leaves vibrant against the barren patches of earth.

The path began to zigzag through the towering trees, and Eldric’s pace slowed to a jog as fatigue set in. His breathing came in shallow gasps, and sweat trickled down his face, stinging his eyes. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, willing his legs to keep moving.

As he rounded another bend, his persistence paid off. Up ahead, he spotted Fiora’s familiar figure running effortlessly along the trail. Her brown pants and white shirt became clearer with every step, her red ponytail swinging rhythmically with each stride.

Eldric took a deep breath, his chest heaving, and pushed himself back up to full speed. The ground blurred beneath his feet as he closed the distance between them.

Fiora, lost in thought, ran with a steady rhythm, her focus inward. She didn’t notice Eldric approaching, nor did she hear his footsteps crunching on the gravel.

Suddenly, a hand grasped her arm.

Instinct took over. Fiora skidded to a halt, spun on her heel, and grabbed the offending limb. With a strength that belied her small frame, she heaved the intruder over her shoulder.

THUD!

Eldric hit the ground hard, the air knocked from his lungs. He stared up at the canopy, stunned, as Fiora loomed over him.

“How did you catch up to me?” she asked, her voice a mixture of astonishment and amusement. She leaned forward, her hands resting on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. “You were still asleep when I left.”

Eldric coughed, still recovering from the unexpected assault. He sat up slowly, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to speak. “I’ve always been faster than you,” he managed to say, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “I thought I’d surprise you. Didn’t think I’d end up flat on my back, though.”

He climbed to his feet, wincing as he brushed dirt and leaves from his trousers. “Since when can you flip me like that? You’re still so small, and I weigh more than you!”

Fiora straightened, her breathing evening out. She shrugged nonchalantly. “Guess I am just skilled,” she said, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

“Well, remind me not to sneak up on you again,” Eldric muttered, rubbing the sore spot on his back. He gave her a playful smirk. “Anyway, it’s breakfast time. Let’s head back. I’m starving.”

Fiora nodded but didn’t move immediately. “First, I need some water,” she said, glancing over her shoulder toward the trees. Her gaze lingered for a moment.

Eldric followed Fiora’s gaze and spotted a small stream weaving its way through the forest, the water glinting in the dim light filtering through the canopy. “Well, that’s convenient,” he said, stepping closer to the bank to join her.

Fiora knelt by the edge, cupping her hands to scoop the cool water. After taking a long drink, she sighed with satisfaction and leaned back on her heels. As her gaze wandered, she noticed a cluster of wildflowers growing along the water’s edge. Their vibrant colors stood out against the earthy tones of the forest—soft blues, fiery reds, sunny yellows, and pure whites.

Eldric caught the reflection of the flowers in her wide eyes as she stared at them in wonder. She reached out, plucking a red rose from the ground. Rising to her feet, she tucked the flower behind her ear and turned to face him with a playful smile.

“What do you think?” she asked, striking a pose with her hand delicately placed beneath the bloom.

Eldric smirked, dipping his hands into the stream. “I think you’re crazy,” he said as he splashed water over his face, the coolness refreshing against his warm skin.

Fiora rolled her eyes and crouched again to take another drink. As she did, she placed the rose carefully on the ground. “Hey, did you notice all the Lunaflare flowers last night by the pond?”

“Yeah,” Eldric replied, his tone casual. He drank deeply from his cupped hands before standing. “It was interesting to see so many in one place.”

Fiora looked up, water dripping from her chin, and stared at him in disbelief. “That’s it?” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with shock and annoyance. “Just that there were a lot of them?”

Eldric shrugged, wiping his hands on his trousers. “I mean, it was kind of neat. They provided light while I bathed.”

Fiora shook her head, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. “It takes a lot to impress you, doesn’t it? I thought they were beautiful.”

“I’m sure you did,” he said with a grin. “But not every little thing amazes me. Now, come on. Let’s get moving.”

Feeling refreshed after their stop, the pair took off running again. Eldric stole a glance at Fiora as she kept pace beside him. For now, she managed to match his strides, but her glowing red cheeks and labored breathing gave her effort away. Sweat dripped down her face, her determination evident with every step.

A mischievous grin spread across Eldric’s face. He gradually increased his speed, testing her limits. He watched from the corner of his eye as Fiora pushed herself harder, her breaths coming faster, her face a deeper shade of red.

Fiora glanced over at him, catching the smile tugging at his lips. She slowed her pace, and Eldric adjusted his stride to match hers.

“Boy, you are really slow,” he teased, a playful edge to his voice.

She shot him a glare, her lips pressed tightly together, before turning her gaze forward again, clearly deciding she wasn’t going to dignify him with a response.

As they rounded the final bend, the familiar sight of the hut came into view. Alaric was outside, sitting on a stump near a crackling fire. Thick smoke curled into the air from a pot hanging over the flames, and beside him rested his worn backpack and sturdy ax.

As they approached, a foul smell hit their noses, stopping them in their tracks. Fiora wrinkled her nose, and Eldric hesitated, his steps faltering as his eyes moved to the bubbling pot.

“What is that smell?” Fiora muttered, fanning the air in front of her face.

The two stepped closer, peering into the pot. Inside was a thick, grayish sludge that clung lazily to the sides as it simmered.

Eldric broke the silence, dread creeping into his voice. “Uh, Dad… what is that? Did you burn something?”

Alaric looked up, an all-too-cheerful smile on his face. “This,” he said, gesturing toward the pot with pride, “is breakfast, of course.”

“You’re joking!” Fiora shrieked, recoiling as her voice cracked with a mixture of horror and disbelief.

Alaric leaned over to his backpack, rummaging for a moment before pulling out three wooden bowls. He handed one to Fiora and another to Eldric, then held onto the last for himself. With a ladle in hand, he carefully doled out portions of the gray, murky stew, each bowl receiving a generous helping.

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Fiora watched as the concoction sloshed into her bowl, her stomach twisting at the sight of chunks of meat floating in the muddy liquid. The smell hit her anew, and she wrinkled her nose in protest.

Satisfied, Alaric filled his own bowl and gave the pot an approving nod. He stood, looking at the two kids with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Enjoy,” he said with humor in his tone. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to eat. Then, meet me inside, and we’ll get started.” With that, he turned and walked a short distance away, giving them space as he leaned against a nearby tree.

Eldric and Fiora exchanged wary glances, their silent standoff beginning. Neither wanted to be the first to brave the unappealing stew. It was an unspoken game of I dare you, their gazes locked in determination.

Finally, Eldric sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable. He dipped his spoon into the sludge, lifted a heaping scoop, and swallowed it down in one gulp.

It was, without question, the worst thing he’d ever tasted. The flavor was a bizarre mix of bitterness and blandness, with an undertone of something metallic. His stomach churned in protest, but he clenched his jaw and forced himself to keep a straight face.

Fiora’s eyes widened in amazement. “How is it?” she asked, her voice tinged with cautious curiosity.

Eldric glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “You know,” he said with mock sincerity, “it’s not half-bad.” He lifted another spoonful to his lips as though savoring the meal.

Encouraged by his reaction, Fiora turned away, bracing herself. She dipped her spoon into the stew and eagerly took a bite.

The moment the sludge hit her tongue, her face contorted in a grimace. Her complexion paled, and she covered her mouth, fighting to keep it down. “What is wrong with you?” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of horror and outrage. “That is gross!”

Eldric erupted into laughter, nearly dropping his bowl as he doubled over. “That’s for making me read that book last night,” he said between uncontrollable chuckles.

Fiora glared at him but couldn’t suppress the faint smile tugging at her lips. She gave him a playful punch on the arm. “This is ten times worse than making you read that book! Jeez!”

Still smiling, she turned back to her bowl and reluctantly began to eat, taking smaller bites this time. Eldric, after catching his breath, took another spoonful of the stew, shuddering as he swallowed.

Across the clearing, Alaric watched the pair with a quiet smile. Their banter and easy camaraderie reminded him of his own youth, of the days when he and Selene would laugh and tease each other over the simplest things.

He glanced down at his bowl, taking another bite of the stew. The taste was no better than the kids’ reactions had suggested. He chuckled softly to himself. This really does taste awful.

His gaze returned to Fiora and Eldric, who were now grinning and talking between mouthfuls. Over the years, he had watched their friendship grow stronger, built on trust, humor, and a shared resilience. They reminded him so much of himself and Selene, and he couldn’t help but hope for their future.

I can only hope that those two stay together, he thought wistfully as he set his empty bowl aside.

Standing up, Alaric stretched his arms above his head. “Okay,” he called, his voice breaking through their chatter. “Time to get you kids in shape. Let’s get to work!”

“Eldric, Fiora! It’s time. Let’s go!” Alaric’s voice boomed from the hut as he turned and disappeared inside.

Eldric and Fiora set their bowls on the ground and scrambled to their feet, their eyes alight with excitement. They dashed into the hut, their anticipation growing as they entered.

Eldric’s gaze immediately fell on the swords hanging on the far wall, their polished blades gleaming faintly in the dim light. Fiora, stretching her arms above her head, couldn’t tear her eyes away from the weapons either, her movements slowed as though mesmerized.

“I’ll grab the swords,” Eldric offered, already stepping toward the wall.

“Not a chance,” Alaric said firmly, cutting him off. “You won’t be needing those for a while.”

Eldric and Fiora groaned in unison, their excitement deflating like punctured balloons.

“First,” Alaric began, his tone commanding, “I want you both to do one hundred push-ups, followed by one hundred sit-ups. After that, we’ll move on to hand-to-hand combat training. And to finish the day, you’ll do another set of push-ups and then take a nice long run on the same path you tackled this morning. Oh, and don’t get too worn out—you’ll still need to forage for dinner after all that.”

The two stared at him, dumbfounded. Eldric opened his mouth to protest, but Alaric’s stern expression silenced him.

“Did I stutter?” Alaric barked, his tone brooking no argument. “Let’s go! Get a move on!”

The next several hours were a blur of grueling exertion. Push-ups, sit-ups, and hand-to-hand drills pushed Eldric and Fiora to their limits. Alaric didn’t let up, barking orders and correcting their form with relentless precision. Every muscle in their bodies screamed in protest, but they pressed on, determined not to give up.

Despite the intensity, the two surprised Alaric with how quickly they learned. Eldric’s punches became sharper, his movements more controlled. Fiora’s speed and precision improved with every passing drill, her determination as fiery as the red in her hair.

Finally, Alaric called for sparring. Eldric squared off against Fiora, confident in his abilities despite the fatigue.

His confidence didn’t last long.

Time and again, Fiora sent him sprawling to the ground, her techniques precise and devastatingly effective. Eldric found himself staring up at the wooden beams of the hut’s ceiling more times than he could count.

“How are you so strong?” he demanded, lying flat on his back after yet another round. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath.

Fiora smirked, extending her hand to help him up. “Maybe I’m just more skilled than you,” she said, her tone dripping with mockery.

Grumbling, Eldric grabbed her hand and pulled himself to his feet. He rubbed the back of his head, which had taken more abuse than he cared to admit. “No, it’s not just skill. You’re actually stronger than me,” he said, bewildered. “How is that even possible?”

“Maybe you’re weaker than you think,” Fiora teased, taking another fighting stance.

Eldric frowned, ignoring her jab. “Why are we even doing this? Shouldn’t we be training with the swords? What’s the point of all this hand-to-hand stuff?”

Fiora nodded in agreement, her focus shifting to Alaric, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “I agree.”

Eldric sighed, his shoulders slumping as he reluctantly took a fighting stance. His back and head ached from the endless drills, and his body tensed in anticipation of the pain he was certain would follow. He closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath.

“This builds discipline and physical strength! Now stop complaining and get back to it!” Alaric barked from the sidelines. “Eldric, if you can’t bring Fiora down at least once, you’ll be running an extra mile tonight.”

Great, Eldric thought bitterly, gritting his teeth as he opened his eyes.

As his vision adjusted, a strange haze began to cloud his sight, making everything appear slightly off. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear it, but the distortion remained. Across the mat, Fiora stood ready, her stance steady, her eyes fixed on him with unwavering focus. She didn’t move, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Eldric shifted his weight, preparing for her attack. Finally, she made her move. She darted forward, her left fist snapping toward his face in what looked like a clean punch. Instinctively, he flinched, raising his hands to block.

It was a feint. Her real strike came from her right fist, a powerful blow aimed at his gut. Eldric braced for the impact, his eyes squeezing shut as he anticipated the sharp pain that would follow.

But the pain never came.

Alaric’s voice rang out again, loud and sharp, cutting through the haze. “This builds discipline and physical strength! Now stop complaining and get back to it! Eldric, if you can’t bring Fiora down at least once, you’ll be running an extra mile tonight.”

Eldric’s eyes snapped open, and he froze. He wasn’t doubled over in pain. He wasn’t even on the ground. Instead, he was standing in his starting stance, the mat beneath his feet unchanged. The haze was gone, and everything around him was clear.

Fiora stood across from him, poised and ready, just as she had been moments before.

Wait. What? Eldric thought, his heart racing. Did that… happen?

Fiora lunged again, leading with the same left-handed feint. But this time, Eldric didn’t flinch. He didn’t even hesitate. Instead, he pivoted to her right, catching her fist mid-swing. In one fluid motion, he pulled her forward and hooked his leg behind hers, sweeping her off her feet.

Fiora landed on her back with a thud, blinking up at him in shock.

“Well,” she said, brushing a strand of red hair from her face, “that was impressive. It was like you knew exactly what I was going to do.”

Eldric stared at his hands, his mind racing. “Yeah… weird,” he muttered. What just happened?

Alaric clapped his hands, a rare look of approval on his face. “All right, that’s enough for today,” he said. “Go catch us some dinner.”

***

The days began to blur together, each one a relentless cycle of exertion.

Morning runs through the forest. Alaric’s questionable cooking. Push-ups and sit-ups until their arms and legs burned. Grueling hand-to-hand combat drills. Evening runs that left their lungs aching. Scavenging for food in the fading light. A final dip in the pond to wash off the day’s sweat and grime.

By the end of the first week, Fiora noticed something strange.

Stepping out of the pond one evening, she paused, flexing her arms experimentally. Every night, I’m stiff as a board from all this training when I come here to bathe, she thought, but every time I leave this water, I feel completely refreshed, like my muscles haven’t been worked at all.

She glanced down at her arms, her gaze falling to the spots where Eldric’s punches had landed earlier in the week. She had been certain they would bruise, yet her skin was unmarked. The aches and soreness she’d felt before entering the pond were gone, as though the water had washed them away entirely.

Fiora frowned, wondering if Eldric had noticed the water’s peculiar effects too. If he had, he hadn’t said a word to her.

She turned toward the hut, the faint sound of Alaric chopping wood in the distance. The water’s secret tugged at her curiosity, but for now, she kept the observation to herself.

That evening, Fiora tossed and turned in her bed, the day’s exhaustion failing to lull her to sleep. Her mind was restless, her thoughts a whirlwind she couldn’t quiet. Finally, with an irritated sigh, she threw off her blanket and padded out of the hut into the cool night air.

To her surprise, Alaric was sitting on the front steps, his silhouette outlined by the faint glow of moonlight.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low and steady, without turning around.

“No,” she admitted, folding her arms. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.” She hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Come have a seat,” Alaric said, patting the spot beside him.

Fiora settled onto the step, her knees drawn to her chest. “Why is it,” she began, “that I’m always completely healed after taking a bath here? The first night, I got a cut on my finger, and by the time I came back, it was gone.”

Alaric turned his gaze skyward, studying the vast expanse of stars above them. “I figured you might have some idea, considering your mother is a doctor,” he said, his voice reflective. “I wonder why she never told you.”

“Told me what?” Fiora asked, her brow furrowing.

“Do you remember how sick you were when you were little?” Alaric asked, glancing at her.

“I don’t think I could ever forget,” Fiora replied, staring into the darkness of the woods ahead.

“Did your mother ever tell you what you were sick with?”

Fiora shook her head. “No. My memory of that time is blurry, but I remember being in pain. A lot of pain.” She turned to Alaric, her curiosity piqued.

He sighed deeply, his gaze distant. “You had a severe heart condition. It wasn’t a disease but a birth defect—a fragile heart. Sometimes it would skip beats, causing unbearable pain. Other times, it would stop entirely.”

Fiora’s eyes widened, and she instinctively pressed a hand to her chest.

“Your mother worried every single night that you wouldn’t wake up to see the next day,” Alaric said, his tone somber. “She was terrified.”

Fiora swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. “That’s… terrifying. Why didn’t she ever tell me this?”

“She blames herself,” Alaric said after a pause. “She believed she did something wrong during her pregnancy, something that caused it. She was overwhelmed with guilt.”

Fiora sat in stunned silence, staring up at the stars. “I had no idea,” she murmured.

Alaric nodded. “Your mother didn’t think you’d survive. She tried everything, searching for plants and herbs that might help. But one day, you took a turn for the worse. No one thought you’d make it through the night.”

He paused to take a drink from a flask sitting beside him. Without thinking, he offered it to Fiora. She took a tentative sip and immediately spat it out, gagging.

“What is that?” she exclaimed, her voice full of disgust.

“Alcohol,” Alaric said with a laugh. “Something your dad and I drink.” He took another swig, his laughter rumbling in his chest.

“Well, go on!” Fiora said, eager to hear the rest.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “Just trying to lighten the mood.” He set the flask aside and leaned forward. “Anyway, your mom wasn’t in the best state of mind that night. She left the house, too heartbroken to stay. She wandered into the woods and kept walking, deeper and deeper into the forest, until she strayed far from any path. When twilight fell, she collapsed to the ground and cried. She pleaded for an answer, for anything that could save you.”

Fiora watched him closely as he continued, his voice quieter now.

“Then, she saw it—a soft blue glow breaking through the shadows. The light grew brighter, and when she looked up, she saw a Lunaflare flower blooming right before her eyes. To her, it was a sign. She didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the flower and ran back to the house as fast as she could.”

Alaric leaned back onto the palms of his hand “She ground it up, mixed it into a glass of water, and made you drink it. She had nothing to lose. You were going to die anyway.”

Alaric stood, stretching his legs as he paced in front of the steps. “But nothing happened,” he said, his tone heavy. “Your mother sobbed herself to sleep next to your bed, heartbroken and defeated.”

Fiora leaned forward, her breath caught in her chest. “And then?”

“When she woke the next morning,” Alaric said, his expression softening, “you were sitting up in bed, looking out the window. When she stirred, you turned to her, smiled, and said, ‘Good morning, Momma.’”

Fiora’s lips parted in awe as Alaric continued. “She wrapped you in her arms and cried.”

Silence fell between them as Fiora processed the story. Finally, she looked at Alaric, her voice barely above a whisper. “The water here—it’s because of the Lunaflare flowers, isn’t it?”

Alaric smiled faintly, his gaze returning to the sky. “You’re catching on.”

Alaric took another long swig from his flask, his movements slow and thoughtful. Fiora sat in silence, letting everything he had shared sink in, her mind racing to process the revelation.

After a moment, Alaric broke the silence. “The Lunaflare has a healing power that few know about and none can fully understand,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But here’s the key, it only works if it’s picked at night, during its bloom. Any other time, it’s just another flower.”

Fiora’s eyes lit up with fascination. “That’s incredible… But wait,” she said, furrowing her brow. “If I had to drink it to heal back then, how are the flowers around the pond helping us even though we never touch them?”

“Ah, good question,” Alaric replied, turning to face her. “The Lunaflare is normally toxic when consumed directly, the way you did. Your mother gave you a small amount, just enough to work without harming you. But there’s a safer way to use its power.” He gestured toward the dark forest, where the pond lay hidden beyond the trees.

“The flowers bleed their chemicals into the water,” he explained. “When we bathe in it, we absorb their healing properties through our skin. That’s why the pond has such a powerful effect.”

Fiora’s mouth fell open. “That’s… amazing!” she said, her voice filled with awe. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, her curiosity and wonder plain to see.

Alaric smiled at her enthusiasm, but his expression turned more thoughtful. “I’m really glad you became friends with Eldric,” he said, his tone softer now. “There’s no telling how he would’ve turned out if you hadn’t been in his life.” He paused, studying her closely. “Please, look after him. He’s a good kid, but sometimes he’s impulsive. He gets caught up in the moment and forgets to think about the bigger picture. You’ve helped shape him into who he is today.”

Fiora’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she glanced away shyly. “I’m just returning the favor,” she murmured. “He’s helped me too.” She looked back at Alaric, her expression firming with resolve. “You have my word—I’ll look after him. Nothing will happen to him while I’m around.”

Alaric tilted his head, watching her intently. Her voice carried a weight that made him believe her completely.

Fiora noticed his gaze and blinked in confusion. “Are you okay?” she asked, her tone cautious.

“Yes,” Alaric said quickly, snapping out of his thoughts. He straightened and cleared his throat. “Well, you’ll both be happy to know that tomorrow we’ll begin training with the swords. So, get some rest while you can.”

Fiora’s face brightened, her excitement returning. “Finally!” she exclaimed, already imagining the feel of a sword in her hand.

Alaric chuckled as he stood, his silhouette framed by the starry sky. “Head inside and get some sleep,” he said, patting her shoulder lightly.

Fiora nodded and stood, glancing out at the dark forest one last time before turning toward the hut. “Goodnight, Alaric,” she said softly.

“Goodnight, Fiora,” he replied, watching her retreat inside.

Once inside, she returned to her room, the day’s events finally catching up to her. She collapsed onto her bed, sighing deeply as the cool fabric pressed against her skin. Closing her eyes, she drifted into a light sleep.

Her mind conjured vivid images—a fleeting vision of two cloaked women standing together, one cloaked in white and the other in black. Their faces remained obscured, but their presence felt overpowering.

“They will all pay,” Fiora muttered, her voice soft but tinged with fierce resolve. “I’m not going to let them hurt him again.”

Suddenly, a sharp, searing pain shot through her head. Fiora gasped, clutching her temples as she bolted upright in bed. She winced, breathing heavily, as the pain gradually subsided.

“What did I mean by that?” she whispered to herself, her voice shaky. “I’m not going to let them hurt him again…”

She looked around the dim room, confusion written across her face. Was it just a dream? The details of the vision were already slipping from her grasp. With a frustrated sigh, she shrugged, lying back down and staring at the ceiling.

What’s happening to me? she wondered before closing her eyes once more.