"Uncle!! The food is ready, come and eat, before it gets cold," standing by the door, his nephew called out to him. His voice filled with excitement and eagerness.
He was well aware of how hard his uncle had been working in the fields under the scorching sun.
"Put it there, I am coming," his uncle commanded, wiping his sweat with a cloth, which he had around his neck and then he returned to plowing the land. His uncle was weak, and had a hunched back.
"Uncle, I made this special dish today, You have no idea how much time it took," Andrew said as he acted cute by pouting his lips and throwing a tiny tantrum, "Please don't delay eating it, uncle.. I had poured my heart while I was cooking it."
His uncle laughed on his words, "Thank you, Andrew. I don't know what I'm going to do without you, all I have is you in the world," his uncle said with a heartfelt smile.
Then his uncle turned around to gave a quick glance at the work that was still left to do in the fields. He stared at it for a while thinking something and then he let out a sigh.
He walked over to the dining table. The table was adorned with the food prepared by his nephew.
As his uncle approached the table, a strange sensation prickled at the back of his neck, raising the hairs on his neck. He felt someone or something staring at him. Startled yet calm, he glanced around, searching for the source of his unease, but the large field before him looked normal as any usual days.
"Uncle, please sit down. I can't wait for you to taste it," Andrew urged, his voice came impatience.
"Yes, I will, however, I am still yet to wash my hands, my dear" His uncle gently smiled looking at Andrew's beaming face.
"Gosh, Andrew. It is hot outside," he commented while taking a seat, he added, "The sun is trying to kill us all," he remarked, "Do you know that Mr. Laces is going outside the village today?" he asked, his gaze observing the served meal.
"I did heard about it," answered Andrew while he served the meal on his uncle's plate, "I hope, he returns home safe and sound."
"Thank you for the food," his uncle while joining his palms prayed to the gods. As he prayed Andrew patiently waited, sitting opposite to him. After done with the prayer, he picked up his fork, and took the first bite, and when he did, his tongue was delighted with joy as he savored the taste of flavors. The dish was a perfect blend of spices and ingredients, each bite was a dream come true.
"Andrew, this is tongue dancing," he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine admiration.
Andrew's face lit up with joy, "Really, Uncle? You like it?" he remarked with happiness, he continued as he narrowed his eyes, "But there is no word as tongue dancing, uncle."
"May I ask you something?" inquired Andrew, his voice which was full of excitement earlier now came serious.
"Yes, ask, ask," said his uncle while he causally licked his fingers.
"I want to know what my mother liked, how she was or about my father?" asked Andrew, feeling nervous.
"You can not avoid this question today! Today is my seventeenth birthday! Not today, uncle!" he protested.
The uncle's gaze softened as he took a deep breath, contemplating how to respond, "Andrew, my lovely nephew," he began, his voice filled with a mix of sadness and affection.
"Your mother was a kind person, full of love and devotion. She had a heart that could move mountains and she was pure like any clear water," his words paused as if he went deep in thoughts, "She loved you with all her being, Andrew. Her love for you is boundless, and she would do anything to protect you, anything...even if it meant making sacrifices."
"Uncle, you have told me this many times," he complained. He soften his voice as he again tried, "Tell me something else, like a memory. What she liked, what she did in her empty days."
His uncle sighed, his sigh was a mixture of frustration and sadness which was also evident in his eyes. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding, "Yes, so do not ask me this question again, understand," he replied firmly.
"Some memories are too painful to remember, and it is best for both of us to focus on the present and the future, leaving past behind us," his voice was strict and stern.
"I understand, uncle," said Andrew, his voice which was excited a minute ago was now came low and down, "I won't ask this question again. You are right, uncle. It is just that... I just... I wish she was with me or that there was something that I knew about her, that is all."
His Uncle's expression softened, as he reached out to Andrew, "I know, Andrew," he admitted softly. "It is a longing, we both share. But remember, her love lives on within you, with you. And that is something that can never change, no force in the world can change it." he said, his voice both soft, and understanding.
"Yes, uncle," Andrew replied, his voice still down, "Uncle, I have to go now. My work is calling me," he said as he moved back to grab his bag.
"You are leaving? Have you done breakfast?" his uncle asked.
Andrew did not replied. He just sat by the door frame, struggling to put on his shoes, his fingers fumbling with the laces in his haste.
His uncle rose from the seat and while walking over to his nephew, "Let me help you," he offered, kneeling down before him and while he skillfully was tying his laces, he added, "You are still bad at this."
When his uncle was done, Andrew hurried grabbed his bag. "I have done my breakfast, uncle!!" he said as he dashed towards his cycle.
"When? Hey! Come back!" his uncle called out.
The day was bright, with clear blue skies. The breeze was cold and refreshing. In the Gear village, a group of warriors was riding their horses, their aura strong and unwavering.
Excitement and fear hung in the air of the Gear village. The locals were excited to see warriors for the first time in their life, curious eyes had gathered on each side of the path, but the fear was there too.
A child in the crowd pointed out his finger to the captain of the warriors, his mother quickly hushed him and instructed him to lower his head before them.
The villagers showed the warriors their utmost respect and care and the warriors too helped the villagers who were in need. And while the warriors assisted, they would also ask for directions.
After days of journeying, the warriors had reached their destination. They stood before the entrance of a modest house in the hills, intentionally far from the bustling village below.
Roger, Andrew's uncle, was sitting beside the main's doorframe, sorting stones from the rice and tossing them onto the ground. He had a cloth wrapped around his head, perhaps because of the scorching heat.
Kale dismounted from his horse, and approached Roger, "Good afternoon, fellow citizen of Labiya. I am kale, fellow member of the 9 and," he gestured towards his captain, vanvi, who was standing beside his horse. "Here, stands the captain of 'the 9', Captain Vanvi. We are here today, sent by the La Isabelle Demore to escort your nephew to the Moon manor," he informed with full details.
Roger lifted his head up and glanced at them, "High-ranked warriors are here to escort my nephew? This is a rare occurrence," he mused aloud, his tone tinged with skepticism as he returned to his work.
Kale kept his composure maintained, "Indeed, your nephew possesses a remarkable talent," he affirmed, "Lady Isabelle, recognizing his potential, has extended an invitation for him to showcase his artistic talent by creating a painting for her."
Roger remained unmoved, there was not a flicker of happiness or concern in his eyes, "Warriors, indeed, are here to escort my nephew," he remarked.
"An escort to the manor for the sake of painting seems... unusual and suspicious, especially considering my nephew's lack of skill in that field," Roger added, his voice relaxed which was strange as high ranked warriors arrived to take his nephew away.
"I empathize with your hesitation," Kale admitted, his voice carrying a note of understanding. "But rest assured, the safety of your nephew is paramount. In these troubled times, with the threat of monsters and demons looming ever larger, the Lady deems it necessary to ensure your nephew's well-being."
As the conversation continued, Roger's hands accidentally crushed a bug, "Ah, apologies," he murmured.
He rose from his place and made his way to a nearby bucket, "That is... so true. The lady must be way too much concerned, regarding my nephew's safety as she has sent high ranking warriors, the famous 'The 9' I must say."
Roger with deliberate movements poured water from the mug onto his hands, cleansing them of the dirt and dead remains from the bug.
The warriors with their expressions composed, stood patiently, waiting for Roger.
"So why don't the lady sent the warriors for the others too? Why because they are nobles?" he asked, his voice filled with sarcasm, while he still was busy washing his hands and face.