That morning, the sky was clear without a single cloud. Sunlight slipped through the cracks in the leaves, dancing among the dewdrops that had yet to evaporate. The warm air touched my skin, signaling that today would be a tiring day.
I let out a long sigh, gazing at the yellowing wheat fields before me.
"Well... it's hot," I muttered as I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.
I've been used to working like this since the age of ten. It didn't make me rich, but it was enough to support me and my mother. It was enough-more than enough, in fact.
"Yo, Rey! As usual, you're too excited!"
I turned my head. The heavy, excited voice came from a middle-aged man with silvery hair tied back. His face was full of wrinkles, but his smile never faded.
It was Jagu Ixiliar, the head of our village. He'd been leading Hago for over three decades, and under his guidance, our small village had become the top wheat producer in the Moniyan Kingdom.
"Not really, Jagu," I replied briefly, offering a small smile.
He let out a good-natured laugh. "How old are you now, Rey?"
I rubbed my chin, trying to recall. I'd been working so long, I'd nearly lost count of my own age.
"Hmm... seventeen, I think."
"Seventeen already, huh? Time flies." Jagu looked at me for a moment, something faintly sorrowful in his eyes. "Have you ever thought about becoming a soldier of the kingdom? With your skills, you'd definitely make it."
I fell silent. That wasn't the first time I'd heard that suggestion. But my answer was always the same.
"No, Jagu. I want to stay here. My mother... she's still sick. I want to take care of her."
Jagu gave a slow nod, as if he understood but still regretted it. Maybe, in his eyes, a young man like me should be aiming for more than just harvesting wheat and tending to medicine.
After finishing the harvest, I handed over the last sack to Jagu. He opened a leather pouch from his belt and handed it to me.
"Here's your pay for today."
I accepted it with both hands and bowed deeply. "Thank you so much, Jagu."
"Get home quickly. Your mother's probably waiting."
I walked home with a light step. Sweat still clung to my temples, but my heart felt warm. The money I earned wasn't much—just a hundred Piah silver coins—but every single coin mattered. Every one of them brought me a step closer to my hope: to cure my mother.
On the way home, I looked up at the sun climbing higher in the sky. I raised my fist with quiet determination.
"I made a hundred coins today! Thank you, God..."
When I reached our front door, I drew in a short breath. Our house wasn't big—just a round building with wooden walls and a dried clay roof. But... it held memories. This was where I grew up, and where my mother raised me all on her own.
I gently pushed the door open and called softly, "I'm home, Mom."
From behind the bedroom curtain, I heard a dry cough that tightened my chest.
"Huk-huk... Rey, you're home already..."
I rushed in and found her lying weakly on a thin mattress. Her eyes, once so bright, now looked tired—but they still shone with the same warmth.
"Mom," I said as I sat beside her. "Look, I made a hundred coins today."
She looked at me for a while, then smiled.
"Rey... you've really grown up. I'm happy to see you like this."
There was a short pause before she continued, "But... I want you to chase your dreams too. I want you to become a soldier of the Moniyan Kingdom."
I lowered my head, gently holding her hand—warm, yet frail. "I can't, Mom. I don't want to leave you alone."
She just smiled, then closed her eyes. I panicked.
"Mom?!"
"I just want to rest for a bit, Rey…"
I let out a breath of relief and kissed the back of her hand. I couldn't cry. Not in front of her.
I slowly stood up from her bedside, watching as she drifted off. Her breathing was still there, though heavy and occasionally interrupted by soft coughs.
I had to make something. Something to give her strength.
I headed to our tiny kitchen. It wasn't any larger than a cabbage patch, but it felt familiar. I'd spent so much time here ever since she got sick—mixing, tasting, trying out recipes with whatever I could find.
I opened the pantry cabinet. My eyes scanned the contents.
"Carrots, potatoes, mushrooms, and… ah, venison. Not bad."
I'd bought the venison yesterday from a traveling merchant who passed through Hago's small market. It wasn't much, but sometimes I got lucky with good finds like this.
I rolled up my sleeves and grabbed a knife.
The moment the blade touched the meat, that wild, gamey scent rose up. I split it into two chunks and diced it into small cubes.
Next, I sliced the carrots and potatoes quickly. I cut the mushrooms with care, making sure there were no spoiled parts.
I lit the firewood stove, placed a large pot on it, and poured all the ingredients into the boiling water.
"Wait... something's missing..."
I smelled the broth, but it was bland. I took a small sip.
"Blegh. That's awful."
I scratched my head.
"Oh right… I forgot the seasoning, hahaha!" I smacked my forehead.
How could I forget something that important? I quickly added what I had: salt, dried basil leaves, a bit of pepper, and some fried shallot flakes.
I leaned in close to the pot, inhaling deeply. This time, a wide smile spread across my face.
"Now this is venison stew!"
I cupped my cheek with my left hand. The warm aroma filled the room.
Without realizing it, I felt calm. Somehow, I felt like I was making something far more important than just food.
"Venison stew with love... ugh, that name's kinda embarrassing." But I didn't care. I'd poured my whole heart into this meal.
I grabbed a plate from the wooden rack and carefully ladled the stew into it. The meat looked tender, the broth golden and fragrant.
Before taking it to my mother's room, I tasted a spoonful.
"Tastes great," I murmured, satisfied.
I stepped into her room, holding the plate carefully so nothing would spill. When I arrived, she was sitting upright with a pillow behind her back. Her face still looked tired, but she smiled when she saw me.
"What's that, Rey?"
I raised the plate with a bit of flair.
"This... is venison stew made with pure love!" I declared proudly.
She chuckled softly. "That's a funny name, Rey… just like you."
My cheeks turned a little red. "Ehe... as long as it tastes good, right?"
I sat on the edge of the bed and began feeding her gently. Every time she opened her mouth, it felt like I was feeding her hope. One spoonful at a time… and her gentle smile never faded.
"Hey, you should eat too! Don't make me eat alone," she said, gently scolding me.
I chuckled. "Alright, Mom."
We ate together. In this simplicity, in this small house that sometimes leaked when it rained, in the midst of a sickness we hadn't yet conquered, we laughed.
For a moment, time stood still.
But I knew... I had to do more than this.
I had to go to the Moniyan Kingdom.
For medicine, for hope, for Mom's dream.