"Mother." The voice drifted in, distant and muffled.
"Mother, he stirs."
Sun-warmed dust motes danced in the weak light filtering through the hut's woven roof. The man blinked, the world sharpening into a familiar tapestry of bamboo and dried leaves. He tried to lift his right hand, met by the dull ache of tightly wound bandages.
Movement flickered at the periphery. A blur, gone before he could focus. He pushed himself up, the blanket pooling around his bandaged chest. The pain throbbed, a dull echo of the beast's claws, but bearable.
Then, memories crashed over him, a tidal wave of loss and despair.
A cold blade pressed against his chin. "I saved you for answers," a woman's voice, laced with anger and betrayal. "Why did he want me dead?"
His gaze shot up, meeting eyes he shouldn't recognize, yet were etched into his soul. Sera. Tears glistened on her cheeks, mirroring the turmoil in his own heart.
"Mother?" A child's voice, tiny and curious.
The knife vanished, tucked away by nimble fingers. "Yes, Delena?"
"The chief wants to see you."
Sera nodded, her expression unreadable, and left him drowning in his silent misery.
**********************
Sera walked the muddy path, the cluster of huts receding behind her. Beyond, Delena played with the tribe's children. Two nights ago, facing the bear, she hadn't known their watchful eyes followed. Only Delena's presence had stopped her blade.
The lie she'd spun – of bandits, a bear attack – felt threadbare with each step. Guilt coiled in her gut, sharper than any blade. Branding Fezar a bandit tarnished him further, a final indignity for a man already dead.
The path climbed, and on the hilltop, the chief stood, gazing at the horizon. "Come, guest," he spoke, his voice low, eyes unwavering.
Beside him, Sera waited, her silence heavy. The chief finally turned, his gaze penetrating. "A brave woman, yet something within you…troubles me."
She chewed her lip. Fear had fuelled her first reaction, the urge to fight. Delena's presence had been the anchor, and the lie, a desperate shield. But naming Fezar a bandit felt like spitting on his memory.
"You could have killed the bear," the chief's words came slow, measured. "You could have killed him."
"You knew?"
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "The question is not of caring for those beyond the mountain, but if one life lost saves many, is it worth taking?"
His words echoed, rattling the carefully constructed walls of her justifications. Delena's laughter drifted up, innocent and joyful. Was that one child's happiness worth the wailing of hundreds?
"I…I need to go." Choking back tears, Sera turned away, unable to meet Delena's trusting eyes.
What would await that gaze when the truth unravelled? That her mother, seeking peace, had unleashed havoc, staining their hands with the village's blood.
That her mother, with trembling hands and a shattered heart, had taken her father's life.