Morning arrived quietly over Elden Hollow.
The violent storm had passed, leaving behind fresh air, wet soil, and the soft sounds of birds singing outside Lara's family home. Sunlight streamed through the windows, warming the wooden floor.
Richard slowly opened his eyes near the fireplace.
For a brief moment, he forgot where he was.
Then he smelled breakfast.
He heard quiet conversation.
And remembered.
Lara's home.
The warmth of the previous night still felt unreal.
He sat up slowly, wincing from the soreness in his leg.
Lara noticed immediately.
"You're awake."
She was helping her mother prepare breakfast while her father sat nearby repairing fishing nets.
Richard stood up quickly out of habit.
"I should leave now."
His injured leg nearly gave out.
Lara caught his arm.
"You're not going anywhere in that condition."
"I've already troubled your family enough."
Lara's mother shook her head.
"Sit."
Richard obeyed quietly.
---
They had barely finished breakfast when Lara's father spoke seriously.
"Tell us about yourself."
Richard hesitated, then slowly answered.
"My father was a hunter."
The room grew quiet.
"He hunted in the northern forests of Silvara. We were poor… but we survived."
"My mother died when I was very young."
When he said nothing more, Lara's mother looked saddened, but Richard continued anyway.
"When I was twelve, a disease reached our village."
Lara's father stopped what he was doing.
"People developed black marks on their skin. Then fever. Then death."
Silence settled heavily.
"My father caught it while helping others… and died within days."
No one spoke for a moment.
Then Lara's father exhaled slowly.
"I remember that disease."
Richard looked up slightly.
"It was called Black Vein Fever," the older man said.
Lara's mother lowered her head. "So many villages were lost…"
"It spread across the region years ago," her husband continued. "The Imperial physicians couldn't stop it."
He paused.
"There were also rumors…"
Richard's eyes narrowed. "What rumors?"
"That it wasn't natural."
The air changed instantly.
"Some believed nobles were experimenting with medicine," Lara's father said carefully. "Something went wrong."
A sharp pain suddenly struck Richard's head.
A flash of images—
A grand throne room.
Kneeling ministers.
A report about disease spreading in outer provinces.
Then darkness.
Richard grabbed his head.
Lara rushed forward. "Richard!"
The vision vanished.
He exhaled shakily. "I'm fine…"
But his hands trembled slightly.
After a long silence, Lara's father spoke again.
"What will you do now? Will you return to that farmer?"
Richard looked down.
"I don't know."
"I need an apprentice," the older man said. "I'm getting old. My sons are gone. I need help with fishing, repairs, and deliveries."
Richard blinked.
"You would take me in?"
"You work hard," the man replied. "You're respectful. And my daughter seems very concerned about you."
"Father!"
Lara turned red while her mother laughed softly.
Richard glanced at Lara. She quickly looked away.
A small smile appeared on his face.
"I'll do it."
"Good," her father said.
---
The Day After (Market Incident)
The village market was usually noisy, but that afternoon it turned sharp and unpleasant.
Richard and Lara had just finished helping carry supplies when shouting erupted near the fish stalls.
A crowd had already formed.
A butcher and a fish seller were arguing.
"I already paid you!" the butcher shouted.
"You paid yesterday's price!" the fish seller snapped. "Not today's!"
The argument turned violent. Shoving. Then a fist.
No one intervened.
They only watched.
Richard stopped.
He stared for a moment.
Then walked forward.
"Stop."
His voice wasn't loud—but it was firm enough to cut through the chaos.
The men ignored him and kept fighting.
The butcher raised his arm again.
Richard moved instantly and caught his wrist mid-air.
The crowd went silent.
"Let go!" the butcher snapped. "This is none of your business!"
Richard didn't move.
"How can you hit a fellow man because he is weak?" he asked calmly. "Explain what happened properly."
Something in his tone made the fish seller quickly explain the misunderstanding about pricing.
Richard listened carefully, then released the butcher's wrist.
Slowly, the tension dissolved. The truth became clear. The crowd began dispersing, murmuring about the strange boy who intervened in a fight that wasn't his.
But the moment didn't fully settle.
A sudden shout broke through the market.
A stray dog burst in from the edge of the stalls, a piece of meat clenched tightly in its mouth.
"That dog again!" a butcher shouted.
He grabbed a stick and threw it.
It struck the dog's head.
The animal yelped in pain, stumbling—but it didn't drop the meat. Panicked, it ran blindly through the crowd.
Straight toward Richard.
"Move!" someone shouted.
But it was too late.
The dog collided with him, and the meat flew from its mouth.
Richard staggered slightly, then looked down.
Thin. Dirty. Shaking.
Hungry.
Without hesitation, he bent down and lifted it into his arms.
"Easy…" he said quietly.
The dog struggled at first, terrified.
Then men arrived behind it.
"Give us the dog!" one shouted.
"Let the butcher deal with it as he sees fit!"
Richard looked at them. "What did it do?"
"It steals meat!" the butcher snapped. "Every time it gets the chance!"
Richard looked down again.
The dog trembled in his arms.
"How much is the meat?" he asked.
The butcher named the price.
Behind him, villagers whispered.
"Isn't he that servant from the farmer?"
"He can't afford that…"
"He's wasting money."
Richard slowly reached into his pocket.
Inside were the exact coins he had received from the farmer—yesterday, after finishing work under harsh rain.
He hesitated.
Then looked at the dog again.
Still shaking.
Still hungry.
He exhaled.
"I'll pay."
Silence fell.
The butcher quickly took the money, as if afraid Richard might change his mind.
When it was over, the crowd slowly dispersed.
Richard loosened his hold.
The dog immediately jumped down—but not toward safety.
It backed away from him, still afraid.
Then it ran into a nearby bush.
It stopped once.
Looked back at him.
And disappeared.
Lara sighed softly.
"You should have saved that money."
Richard stared at the bush.
"It was hungry."
"That doesn't mean it will stay," she said.
Richard didn't answer.
They walked home in silence.
After a while, Lara spoke again.
"You could have started something useful with that money."
"A business. Anything."
She glanced at him.
"You spent it on a dog that ran away."
Richard looked ahead.
"Even if it ran away…"
"It still needed help."
Lara fell silent.
Because that wasn't the kind of answer people in their world usually gave.
And behind them, in the bushes, the stray dog watched quietly.
Still afraid.
Still hungry.
But no longer looking at him the same way as before.