Simon stood up, he opened up his bag, and inside was a pouch of meat. He took it out. “This is to show my gratitude, thank you, dy,” he politely gifted a piece of meat.

  Hearing the words ‘Lady’ made Sarry take it with no questions asked. “I’m sorry, this is all the records that we have,” Sarry was sincerely feeling sad for the boy who was trying to find where he came from.

  The records only contained the mother’s name and the baby’s name if it was a successful birth.

  Simon contempted with a bnk face. Did the old man lie to him?

  ‘No... he wouldn’t bother. Hiding the truth was never his style.’

  It just wasn’t in the old man’s nature to lie.

  “Simon, are you okay? If you want, you can stay here!” Sarry offered, there was a room for all of the apprentices that was rarely used since everyone of them usually went home in the afternoon.

  “No need, I still have somewhere to go,” Simon then stood up. “Thank you.”

  There was no change in his face, but even Sarry could tell that the boy was sad. “Take care!” It was only the words she could offer.

  “Then I will be leaving. I’ve got a pce to stay for the night. Thank you again.” The boy picked up his backpack.

  Sarry just silently watched the boy’s back as he left. She squeezed the records she was holding. As soon as the boy disappeared, Sarry went to the second floor of the house to return the book of records.

  Sierra—her teacher and the vilge doctor—heard her steps and, just by pretending to work on her cabinet that was near the open door of the room, she spoke. “That boy... he was the one who slew the knights? What’s his name?” As she fixed the bottles by their bels.

  “His name is Simon... he was looking for his mother... that’s why I took the birth records,” Sarry, her student, replied as she stopped by her room’s door.

  “So who was it, the mother?” Sierra gulped, but her student didn’t notice it.

  “We have no name. I checked around the years from 31st to 34th Thereon, because he said he was 14 years old, but we didn’t find his name, so we have no clue.”

  ‘14 winter moons!’ Sierra almost dropped one of the bottles... memories of that night flowed into her again, and blood began pumping faster as her heart rushed. She still tried to calm down, but how could she have forgotten? “Where is he now?”

  “He already left... he was strong, even though he was still younger than me... he is weird,” the disciple said, remembering the way the boy carried his heavy baggage.

  “I see…” Sierra nodded and closed the door of her room.

  The student smiled at her teacher’s door and went to the records room to return the book. She didn’t even notice her teacher’s distress. And as she went down the stairs, Sierra’s voice resounded.

  “His eyes... did you see it?” Sierra asked, stopping Sarry in her tracks.

  “No! The vilgers, too, said that he was blind, but he said that he could see a little bit.” Then Sarry continued down the stairs to attend to her duties.

  Sierra, in her room, clenched her fist. They didn’t record it as per the instructions of her te teacher, the te Vilge Doctor.

  Sierra’s hand trembled.

  'It was him... it had to be him—the baby I left at the foot of the mountain. The Banal.'

  She shut her eyes, but the truth was already carved deep inside her. Now that she understood why her teacher had cast the baby away, her chest ached with torn and loyalty.

  Secrets had been passed to her along with the role of Vilge Doctor—secrets that reshaped everything she thought she knew.

  Cold sweat clung to her back. Her breathing deepened.

  'Keep it together.'

  She opened the cabinet, grabbed a bottle, and poured it into the waiting gss that was on her table. Her fingers hovered over it, eyes fixed on the swirl of her favorite liquor. It was a ritual by now.

  Guilt. Conscience. Loyalty. Duty.

  They all weighed on her shoulders.

  'She can’t know...'

  Her voice was barely a whisper. 'Lady Zhisata must never know.'

  She downed the gss in one motion, chasing the heat down her throat—and swallowing the storm inside her.

  Ahas Vilge Outskirts.

  Simon was already outside the vilge when he opened his eyes. He was disappointed that he didn’t find his mother. ‘Old man… what should I do now?’ he continued walking east.

  His mind continued to race. ‘Where to go?’ he was very close to the eastern frontier. ‘Sea Mountains at the east,’ he thought as he turned his head east. It’s at the edge of the known world, and Explorers were stationed there; ‘The old man called them the true cutting edge of the humans.’ Simon didn’t exactly know what it meant, but ‘Exploring the unknown would be exciting.’

  “Wait.”

  ‘How about going around and just trying food?’ Out of all the ideas, this was the most appealing that he could think of. He imagined the tastes he could discover along the way and remembered a friend who showed him how important it was to know how to cook. He ought to visit her.

  “Is this freedom, old man?” Simon muttered.

  ‘Why do I feel like this?’ He wasn’t hungry, but there was still a gnawing emptiness inside him.

  “What now…” he sighed. Talking to himself had become a habit—one of the few things that filled the silence of traveling alone.

  “Old man.”

  His mind fshed with the image of that fierce, grizzled face. The endless training. The bruises for every mistake.

  ‘Why does his face keep coming back?’

  Simon scowled at the horizon. It felt oddly nostalgic, as if he had been staring at it for a long time—an endless stretch of white and mystery.

  “Oh.” That’s when he realized—he’d wandered far from the vilge.

  “Sniff!” 2x

  ‘Huh?’ A familiar scent stopped him in his tracks. He turned his head to where the smell was coming from. It was from the mountains. The mountain that the vilgers called Mosspeak.