After a little time had passed after the orc’s raid, some hustle and bustle had returned to Carmul. Though unfortunately, only activities had returned whereas gloom still lingered in the air.

  It was the time for some travelling merchants to stop at Carmul on their way to Duraintsburgh and for Carmul’s own caravan to set off to town to sell their harvest. And for most those staying behind, the time to collect their wages.

  “Here ya go.” the alehouse owner said as he handed a pouch to the woman before him.

  “This much?” Alise said after feeling the unexpected weight of the pouch in her hands.

  “Ah, don’t sweat it,” the man said, waving his hand dismissively. “I know Razh wasn’t around for the whole harvest, but I talked it out with everyone else. We’re expecting more money than usual this year anyway.”

  “Are you sure? This is much more than what he usually—”

  “Argh, woman, just take the money and go,” he said with a scoff.

  “A-allright. Thank you.”

  “Yeh, alright.” he said just as Alise turned to take her leave. “Oh, Alise! I’ll have some of the men take your share of the wheat to your house later!”

  Alise then whipped her head around to once again address the man. “You’re giving me wheat too?”

  “What’re you surprised for?! You got wheat every year so far!”

  “Ah—r-right. Thank you.” she said in reply before once again turning to take her leave.

  After her, the man in line behind her stepped forward to the alehouse owner to get his share of the pay.

  These farmers sweat everyday to work the fields, but the fields themselves actually belong to the village. So although it was their hard work that produced the grains, it all belongs to the village and is managed by the village’s head. In exchange, the chief gives them wages according to the work they did and a portion of what they harvested.

  Up until now, they were usually paid during the harvest festival, but since the village didn’t hold a festival this year and the village chief is no longer around, the farmer’s wages and share of the harvest is only now being given to them by the alehouse owner who is the current acting head of the village.

  After receiving her share, Alise made her way outside where the clear sky and bright sun greeted her on the open square together with the racket made by the men of the village.

  “Come on! Keep dilly dallying and the town’s gate gonna close on us!” one of the foremen directing the others shouted.

  They’re loading sacks upon sacks of grain from storage onto the caravan. The harvest festival in Duraintsburg will be held in two days and they have to depart by today if they are to arrive in town by then to catch the market.

  Among the grown men carrying two or three sacks at once on their shoulder, Alise could spot a few children helping out with the loading process. Though instead of two or three at once, it takes two or three to carry one. And when they finally reached a wagon and put down their goods, they let out a collective gasp as if they had to hold their breath carrying the heavy sack of grain.

  “Oi! Get outta here if you’re done!” a foreman said to the kids catching their breath on the back of the wagon, causing them to almost jump out of their skin.

  “R-right!” the children said collectively before scrambling away to make way for the next man to drop off what he’s carrying.

  Now that they’re out of the way, the children went back to catching their breath. There were still some more to be carried from the storage, but they were explicitly told that if they are going to help, they shouldn’t push themself too hard and the adults would be keeping an eye on them.

  Though even if they hadn’t been told to do so, they probably would still have to stop and rest at this point. Nothing else they could do with their arms sore after just a couple trips from the storage to the caravan.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have helped,” one of the children said, still panting a little.

  “What’re you talking about?!” one of the older children said. “My dad said the village is in a rough time right now. We have to help out!”

  “O-oh yeah… yeah, you’re right!”

  “But maybe we can rest just a bit more,” the older child said again before letting himself relax and take a seat on the ground. “My arms are hurting.”

  “So is mine,” the other children all said one by one.

  While resting, the children looked around at the adults working around them. There’s quite a racket compared to the days before, but the adults are still pretty quiet compared to the years prior. Except for the foreman directing the men, no one is talking to each other.

  As children, they weren’t told the exact situation the village is in or what had happened to the village, but they could still pick up enough to know that something really bad has happened. Afterall, some of the other children were never seen again since that hectic night they were rushed into carts and wagons.

  Also, some of the children, the ones that likely know what happened, have this gloomy look on them and they’d often be seen clinging to their parents as if whatever it was they saw that night was still gripping them by the heart. But when asked what happened, they said that their parents told them not to talk about it and kept their mouths shut.

  The children let out a collective sigh as they recall the gloomy look on their friends’ and the adults’ faces.

  “Won’t Vivi come back soon?” one of the children asked.

  “I dunno. But I sure miss her,” another answered.

  Usually when children grew old enough, they would start helping out their parents with their work. Most of the boys would help out their fathers in the field and most of the girls would help out with their mother’s crafts at home. The only exception they know of is Vivian.

  She had always been playing with the other children so she’s also the one closest to everyone else. What they know is that she wants to be a soldier and is training with her dad until she’s old enough to enlist herself.

  “You think she became a soldier already?”

  “Nah, uncle Robert said it’ll be a couple years still.”

  “Oh, didn't uncle Robert came back the other day?”

  “He did! I saw him!”

  “Vivian didn’t come back with him?”

  Another child shook their head. “Didn’t see her around.”

  The other children let out another collective sigh.

  “I wish she’s here now.”

  “Wonder if she can carry a sack by herself.”

  “She probably can! She’s so good with her sword!”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “And she’s going to hit you for lazing around.”

  “Hey, you’re lazing around too!” the child said, referring to the fact that everyone is now sitting around in a circle, resting.

  Everyone let out a laugh.

  “Say.” one of the older children then said, a hint of seriousness in his voice as he brought everyone’s attention to himself.

  These past few days, he’s had this gloomy look on his face and the others just know that he probably caught a glimpse of what happened that night so they hang onto his every word.

  “I’m going to be a soldier when I grow up too.”

  “You’re going with Vivi?”

  He nodded. “That night, you all saw the soldiers came to help us, right? Did you see what they were fighting?”

  “Hey, stop that. We’re not supposed to talk about that,” another child chimed in.

  “I don't care!” he said rebelliously.

  “Wh-what was it?” another child asked.

  “I got nothing to do with this. The adults are going to yell at you,” the previous child said again.

  “I said I don’t care! Listen—” the gloomy child then said as he brought his face forward to share the secret he knows. Then, with a low whisper he described what he saw that night. “Giants!”

  “Giants?!” one of the other children yelped in surprise.

  “Ssh! Not so loud!”

  The child that yelped then quickly brought his hands to cover his mouth.

  “Yeah, the soldiers were helping us fight giants! And I’m going to help them when I grow up!”

  The other children then took a moment to look at each other, as if discussing what each of them were going to do. Then, one by one, they voiced their own opinions.

  “Me too! I’m going to be a soldier too when I grow up!”

  “M-me too! That way, we’ll all keep playing together right? None of us will stop coming to play like— like…” one of the younger children said, trailing off as tears began to form in the corner of her eyes.

  “But soldiers fight with swords like uncle Robert is doing right? I don’t think I can do that…” one of the meeker children said.

  “It’s fine! I’ll protect you!” another child said.

  “Hm. Then, let’s everyone have uncle Robert teach us to become soldiers! No more playing!”

  “Yeah!” the other children then said together.

  “For now, let’s help carry more wheat and get stronger!”

  “Yeah, okay!”

  The children seemed bright and optimistic, as they should be. Children shouldn’t have to have much care in this world. The problems of the village need only burden the adults while they let the children go about doing their own things.

  With that thought in mind, Alise found her son waiting for her to finish her business, away from where the other children were gathered—keeping to himself without showing any interest in the other children. He had never shown much enthusiasm in making friends so he’s also never made the initiative to interact with the other children of the village, so this wasn’t anything new.

  Alise approached her son and placed her hand on his head to pat him gently. His head reached just a little over her own hip—still but a small child. And just like the other children, Gale shouldn’t have to have any worry looming over him. He should just live his life as free as possible, without any care in the world.

  She was so proud when she heard that the small boy had fought with all he had to protect his mother. He had exhausted himself protecting her to the point that he apparently passed out the moment all the tension left his body. That was not something a child should experience in their young age. It should have been a parent’s duty to protect their children, not the other way around.

  Her son had been more active ever since Robert came to visit their house last year, and maybe it’s weirdly getting to her head that her son has been interacting more with the other children lately and has been showing more initiative to do things himself rather than just obediently following his parent’s instruction.

  Razh had loathed his family because of Gale. He hated how odd his own child is compared to the other children and he hated his wife for giving birth to him. And Alise had always found him unfair for it. But really, deep down, even she has to suppress the same thought sometimes. The thought of how she actually wanted a normal child.

  Alise kneeled down and pulled her son into a tight hug. He seemed to be at a bit of a loss as to what she’s doing as he took a quick moment before returning the hug, and when he did, Alise could feel his warmth in the chilly early fall morning.

  “I’m sorry…” she said in a whisper as tears started to form in the corner of her eyes when she thought of the wrongs she’s done to her son and she needed a few moments to regain her composure. Once she did, she let go of the hug and pushed herself a little away from her son.

  His shirt seems to have been dishevelled from her impromptu show of affection. The collar has been pulled a little towards one side and its loose opening showed a glimpse of the newly formed scar Gale now has on his shoulder. Seeing that, Alise’s eyes then wandered towards his right upper arm where a large mangled scar is hidden beneath his shirt’s sleeve.

  Those scars are the marking of a man—his history of bravery and her proof of failure. And as she fixed her son’s shirt, she resolved to shame herself as a mother no more—from now on, she will be the one to protect her son, not the other way around.

  Once his shirt was all fixed, Alise stood up and grabbed her son by his hand, with the pouch given to her dangling from her wrist. She opened her mouth to tell him that they’re going home, but before she could get the words out of her mouth, a voice called out from behind.

  “Hey, it's Gale!”

  Alise turned around and found a small group of children carrying a single sack among them.

  “Gale! Hey, help us out! This thing’s heavy!”

  Looking at her son, she found him looking up at her. As always, it’s hard to tell what the boy is thinking just by looking at the face that he makes, but since he immediately turned to look at her when the other children asked for his help, he must be asking her what he should do.

  “You can help them if you want, Gale.”

  Then, once again from behind her, the children called out to him. “Hey, hurry up! I can’t hold this much longer!” the boy said with his face red as if he’s forcing himself to stop his rear from leaking.

  The mother and son turned to look at the group of children again and back towards each other. After a moment of hesitation, Gale then slowly let go of his mother’s hand and made his way towards the group of children to help them carry the heavy sack.

  Alise can’t help but let out a smile seeing his son work together with the other children. Usually she would have just asked him to go and help them out, but really she shouldn’t be telling him to do anything he doesn’t want to. Her child should be free.

  But then again, it might be that her son is too used to obediently listening to his parents that Alise telling him to do what he wants was taken as he should go do it. After all, the boy isn’t letting much of a smile show on his face.

  It could be that she’s overthinking things. Her son never was one to show much of anything on his face. It seems like just resolving herself to do better as a parent wasn’t even a start and she really needed to learn more about a lot of things.

  “Hey, you usually spar with Vivi, right?” Alise overheard one of the children asking Gale in the distance.

  Gale then turned his head to look at the child that asked him, but offered no response. Instead, the child continued.

  “You always do well with her, how are you so good? I mean, you’re so small!”

  The boy then tilts his head ever so slightly, as if falling into thought. Or maybe expressing confusion towards the question. But then again he might not have tilted his head and the other children just thought they did. They don’t know.

  Exchanging an awkward look with each other, the children then all let out a dry laugh at the boy’s lack of response. They never did get along with him. Even though they always spend time together at Robert’s place for sword practice, they never interacted with each other much.

  “Hey, come on, teach us how you do it too! We wanna get better with the sword too!” one of the children then continued to break the ice.

  “Yeah! I wanna be a soldier,” another added.

  The children all look at Gale expectantly, but before he could offer them a response, they had reached the wagon where they’re supposed to put down the sack they’re carrying. They made their way up into the wagon one by one before letting the sack down on top of another one already loaded on the wagon. Once they’ve made sure that it’s not slipping away, they then make their way off the wagon.

  “Okay,” Gale then suddenly said with a slight nod.

  The other children then turned to look at him with sparkles in their eyes.

  “Really?! You’ll teach us?! Promise!”

  Gale replied with a nod.

  “Alright! Hey, let’s go to the for—” one of the children said before having his mouth forcibly muffled by another.

  “Sshh! We can’t go there yet, remember?”

  “Oh, right.” the child then said quietly. “Let’s go find some sticks and practice!” he then added in a hushed tone.

  The other nodded.

  “Allright! Let’s gather up everyone and go!”

  “Yeah!”

  One of them then grabbed Gale’s hand and pulled him along to gather up the other children. They went to help the ones still carrying a sack and once every one of them was done, they ran and made their way to the edge of the forest, leaving behind the adults to load the caravan.

  “Where’re those rascals off to now?” one of the ones that noticed the children taking off said.

  “Eh, just let them be. Better than having them make a mess here.”

  “But what if the orcs—”

  “Hey, don’t say that,” another villager said, cutting off the other guy’s words. “The soldiers already checked the forest and said there ain’t nothing more there.”

  “Ah, r-right. Sorry.”

  “Yeah… there’s nothing there,” the previous villager then said again, this time in a more hushed tone, as if the words were meant to convince himself.