Fire flickered in front of my eyes.

Flame tongues twisting and turning in weird shapes.

A mesmerizing dance of yellow, orange, and red.

My eyes were dry, but I continued to watch.

A soothing spectacle.

Something to get lost in.

And a reason to not think anymore.

Flickering flames.

And steps behind me.

“I’m back,” Thea announced from my back.

“Hmm.” I didn’t turn around.

“Uno’s mother missed you. She wanted to thank you.”

“Hmm.”

“The others also wondered where you were but I told them you were unwell.”

“Hmm. Thanks.”

Back to the fire. I shouldn’t speak, or she might notice.

“So…” Her hand touched my shoulder. “Are you feeling guilty?”

“Hmm.”

Not good.

“It isn’t your fault. Nobody thinks that way.”

“But… if they had gone…”

“Enough! Come with me,” Thea responded, threw a cloak around my shoulders, and dragged me outside.

It was night.

Only the moonlight illuminated our way.

We followed the dirt track toward the forest. A black path through the white landscape, leading into the darkness.

“It’s freezing.”

“Hmm.”

“There is no warmth out here.”

“Hmm.”

“They wouldn’t have made it.”

“Hmm.”

“You understand, don’t you? There never was another way…”

I didn’t answer. This wasn’t what I wanted to hear. So we continued in silence. Much better.

The path wove around the edge of the forest and ended on a clearing. A few polished stones broke through the snow mantle, reminding me of guardians.

Thea led me to the left. Towards a small, black rectangle, free of snow. Dug soil, not even one square meter. But still enough to shelter a child.

“Uno’s here now.”

“Hmm.”

This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be right. There was no way that lively brat was so well-behaved. So still. So silent.

Therefore, I stood there. And waited. For a noise, a movement, whatever. Anything would work. But nothing came.

Images from an old documentary resurfaced in my mind. Terminal patients. Dry and boring stuff for over an hour. One of those they didn’t air on the main channels, because nobody wanted to think about suffering and death. But I had searched for them after my diagnosis.

In there, one particular fact had caught my eyes. People suffering from illness often got better out of nowhere. Their pain vanished without a trace and they left their beds and wandered around. Their minds clear, with a new haircut, shaven for the first time in years, laughing with the nurses. They enjoyed their next hours. And died afterwards.

Like a candle flickering one last time, before the wax runs out.

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What fascinated me was less the fact and more the reason behind me. Their bodies stopped fighting against their decline. And all that free energy went towards one last beautiful ray of light. They weren’t getting better. They only stopped fighting for mediocrity. One grand day for three weeks of suffering. Back then it sounded good to me.

Had my treatment helped Uno? Or had he given up on his fight? I didn’t know.

But the outcome lay in front of my eyes.

One new grave, kid sized.

“Uno’s mother wanted to thank you,” Thea repeated. “I promised to convey her thoughts.”

“There’s no need. I did nothing. I could do nothing. After all I…”

“But he woke up after-”

“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!”

Silence.

Again.

Why wouldn’t she leave me alone?

“I won’t go anywhere.”

What? Did she read my mind? I looked up and found her smiling at me. A sad smile. A captivating smile. As if there was a connection.

“How?”

A gentle laugh.

“I was the same back then. When dad died. Everyone pitied me, but I wanted them to hate me. But they didn’t understand. They even praised how brave I was. An immature girl helping her mother in harsh times. And later a young woman surviving all on her own. To them I was a fighter. But to me… it was different.”

She sighed and continued.

“Ma would always make clothes from the furs, so I begged her for a long coat. Like those princesses in the stories. A beautiful dress that would bewitch my prince. But you can’t make those out of a small hare pelt. You need bigger ones. So when a boar killed my dad, I thought…”

Another laugh. Self-mocking?

“Today I understand that dad would never risk his life for a coat. But back then, I thought he died because of me. So I hated myself. And I wanted everyone else to hate me. So yeah, I know how you feel. And thanks to that, I can say… you are wrong. You deserve thanks.”

“But he still died.”

Why would I deserve thanks? For trying? This wasn’t a participation trophy for some stupid middle school tournament.

“Yes. He died,” Thea confirmed. “But what was the alternative? His father carrying him through ice and snow for days? Even with your care, inside a warm house, he didn’t live that long. No way he would survive.”

“But…”

“And even if they made it.” Thea cut me off. “We are a poor village with no money. We can’t afford a doctor’s cost. So he could only go to the herb woman’s house, kneel in the snow, and beg. That was the entire plan. Their only hope. A lie. On top of a lie. On top of another lie.”

“But why would she… thank me?”

“Because Uno was her son…”

“Just… that?” It couldn’t be that easy. Right? Even if I didn’t make it worse, Uno still died.

“Do you remember when I told you about the three biggest regrets of a mother?”

I nodded.

“One.” Thea counted. “Not being able to find a wife for your son. Two. Not being able to shelter your own child. And three… being forced to bury your own child. Uno’s mother realized he would die. Everyone understood. Even elder Rolf. He finished Uno’s stone before he woke up. We all knew there was no hope left.”

“Everyone…”

“But.” Thea pointed at me. “You gave her the biggest present. More time with her son.”

“Only… a few hours…”

“To you, those were only a few hours. But to her, those were a priceless gift. Just hearing his voice again, seeing his smile again, and saying goodbye. These small things will accompany her for the rest of her life. And you are the one who gifted her these memories.”

Thea continued. But I didn’t listen anymore.

A mother would do anything for another hour?

Things like eating less to pay for another doctor’s bill? Or things like taking up a second job, working day and night, just to afford a modern hospice? Would people call it a mother’s love when she sat beside her ill son in silence, watching him play a video game she didn’t see, before leaving without another word? Only leaving some flowers behind?

And I realized.

How would such mother feel, when she comes back to the hospice and see her dead son? Gone weeks before the expected date. Without so much as a goodbye. Only the caregiver talking about suicide. No last words, no letter, no gratitude. A silent corpse.

How would such a mother…

I dropped to my knees.

How would my mother feel?

I didn’t even talk to her on my last day.

I just… ran away.

Left her behind.

Betrayed her hopes.

Hey! What have I done?

My vision blurred.

Cold traces down my cheeks.

I’m sorry, mom.

I didn’t want to.

I should have said something. Anything.

Leave a message.

Talk more with you.

Smile more for you.

Share my pain with you.

And share your pain…

Now I understood.

I wasn’t the only one crying at night.

Not the only one cursing god. Or fate.

Not the only one wishing for something else.

Anything else.

She only hid it better. Smiled at me. And I didn’t notice.

And now I was here, in the middle of nowhere, crying in front of an unknown girl.

For an eternity.

Until my freezing knees woke me from my stupor.

And left me behind. Perplexed. Helpless.

What should I do now?

I looked at Thea. She had stood there in silence, waiting for me.

“You know.” Her soft voice cut through the swoosh in my ears. “When my parents died, the entire village came to a standstill. A muddled puddle. No more hunting, no new fields, nothing. Every day the same routine. And I hated it. But then you started hunting again, and the elders talked about fresh blood, and everything moved again. You think those small things don’t matter. Just a hare, only a few hours, a handful of logs, nothing much. But to others, those might be their treasure. So if they thank you, accept it, and don’t belittle yourself. Let’s go, it’s cold.”

She sighed, pointed at my knees, and left towards the village.

And I followed in silence.

What should I do now? In this unfamiliar world?

Did it even matter whether or not this was a dream? Was there a difference between me dying at the end of a dream or at the end of a second life? Would I lose anything if I took this dream serious? If I gave it my best?

No, I wouldn’t.

I could die any day, just like Uno. It didn’t matter whether it was the end of a dream or some monster that killed me.

But there also was the chance this world existed. A second life. A chance I bought with my mother’s grief. Therefore, to give it my best. And to live to my fullest. Shouldn’t I owe her at least that much?

I was stuck in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t save a child. But maybe I could change this village for the better and prevent a recurrence. Wasn’t this something I, with so many hours in the game, would be able to do?

And so I followed Thea back to her hut.

Our hut.