A cool breeze touched Cain's face, unfamiliar yet invigorating. The place where he lay was so quiet and soft that he wanted to stay there forever. He opened his eyes and froze: before him stood a beautiful woman with a gentle voice that drew him in like a long-forgotten memory.
"Cain, my son, wake up," she said softly, her voice filled with care and tenderness. "Good morning, it's time for breakfast."
Cain slowly rose, as if awakening from a long sleep. His thoughts were muddled, and his body felt an unusual comfort. He looked around, realizing that he had woken up in a bed, in a beautifully furnished room he had never seen before, yet which felt strangely familiar. Soft light streamed through the thin curtains, gilding the walls and giving the room a cozy warmth.
This room was like something out of his distant childhood dreams, something unattainable, something he could only dream of once. Every detail of the interior—from the carved legs of the bed to the bookshelves filled with colorful volumes—was infused with care and a love for the little things. But no matter how hard Cain tried to grasp his surroundings, his thoughts kept returning to the woman who called him her son.
She approached him, gently adjusting the blanket over his legs as if she didn't want to disturb his peace. Her movements were smooth, almost weightless, but each gesture carried maternal care, sincere and deep.
"I'll be waiting for you at breakfast in five minutes," she said, closing the window through which the fresh morning breeze had been entering the room, and left, leaving behind a light scent of wildflowers.
Cain jumped out of bed, stunned and confused. He ran his hand over the bedding, touched the walls to make sure this wasn't a dream. Every detail seemed so real that it was both comforting and frightening at the same time. But why? Why was he here? Where was "here"? His heart raced, and his thoughts jumbled together chaotically in his head. He couldn't understand what had happened or how he had ended up in this strange yet so cozy place.
He got dressed, finding that his everyday clothes were neatly laid out in a visible spot, as if they had been prepared especially for him. His fingers ran over the fabric—it was clean and smelled fresh, as though it had just been washed. Yet even this small comfort didn't soothe his troubling thoughts.
Once dressed, Cain resolutely headed for the door. Stepping out of the room, he saw that he was on the second floor, and downstairs, on the first floor, he could hear the sounds of food being prepared. They were rhythmic and measured, like a melody calming his tense nerves. His nose filled with such a delicious smell that he didn't even notice how he found himself seated at the table, waiting for his portion. His gaze wandered around the room, noting the carefully arranged chairs, the elegant tablecloth, and the paintings adorning the walls. All this suggested that someone lived here who valued coziness and the warmth of a family hearth.
When the mother returned, carrying a plate of steaming breakfast, her face lit up with a soft smile. She placed the plate in front of him and then sat down beside him, as if it were important for her to ensure that he was truly all right.
"Cain, dear, eat slowly," she said, her voice soothing and enveloping like a blanket on a winter evening. "The food is still warm, and you have plenty of time. Don't leave so quickly like you did yesterday to play with your friends. Remember, it's important to have a good meal too."
Her words were spoken with such care that Cain felt a pang in his chest. She looked at him as if reading his soul, trying to understand what was happening with him, but not daring to ask too many questions. Her hands, soft and gentle, rested on his shoulders, transmitting warmth and that invisible connection they seemed to already have, despite his confusion.
Cain instinctively nodded and began to eat. He tried to focus on the flavors, savoring each bite, though his thoughts remained distant. It was strange to eat slowly, feeling his stomach fill, rather than just quenching hunger as he had done before. Each bite carried not only nourishment but something more—the care he had long since forgotten.
The mother, noticing his appetite, simply watched him with joy. She made no remarks about his table manners, didn't comment on how he held his fork or knife. It seemed as though the only thing that mattered to her was that he ate with pleasure and felt safe and at peace here, in this home.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. The mother went to answer it and soon returned with some children who joyfully exclaimed:
"Cain, finish up quickly and come on! We need to build our base. You're a soldier, you should have arrived earlier, but we forgive you."
Cain was bewildered, but feeling the need to get out and understand what was happening, he quickly asked his mother for permission and went outside. Outside, he was surrounded by a bright forest, in which stood houses just as beautiful and large as his own. The coolness and fresh air filled his lungs, and for the first time in a long while, he felt safe.
He followed the children, who laughed and talked about things he didn't yet understand. But after a few minutes, he began to adapt and even smiled slightly—a rare feeling for him. Soon they reached a treehouse, made with love and craftsmanship. The kids quickly climbed up the tree and settled in comfortably, discussing their childhood affairs.
"My parents are going out today, so we can go there and play cards," suggested one of the boys.
Cain didn't understand what kind of cards they were talking about, but he agreed right away, just so as not to stand out. They played, laughed, and enjoyed their time together. However, when it was time to climb down, Cain hesitated. The height frightened him, and he suddenly remembered moments from his childhood when he had fallen from heights. Fear gripped him, and without realizing it, he slipped and fell.
The tree wasn't very tall, but the fall could have left a wound that would ache for a long time. He shut his eyes, expecting pain, but instead, when he landed, he felt nothing. It seemed as though this impact meant nothing. But as he processed what had happened, suddenly, a vicious fox appeared before him, ready to attack.
Memories flooded back of moments when, as a weak child, he had run from this fox, knowing he couldn't defeat it. He couldn't forget those moments of his life, as he had been so powerless. But now the fear was gone. The fox lunged at him, but he noticed a light, sturdy stick nearby, grabbed it, and quickly dodged the fangs, counterattacking in the same instant. The fox was felled with one blow, and Cain froze, unable to believe his own strength.
It was as though his former, broken, and helpless self had been left behind. Now he felt like he had become what he had always dreamed of being: a strong and brave boy who could stand up for himself. He didn't even have time to process what had happened when, within moments, his friends ran up to him, hugging him and admiring his bravery.
Cain was happier than ever. He no longer thought about his past failures. Together with his friends, he walked on, enjoying the new, happy life that seemed to have opened up before him.