A pure arrow made of fire flew sharply, striking the roof of a house.
If the roof had been made of aluminum or something similar, it would have been fine. However, the roof of the house was entirely made of straw twisted into bamboo. The moment the flaming arrow struck, fire erupted without mercy.
The house was small, with only one bedroom. The walls were made of wood. As the straw roof caught fire, the flames spread quickly. This caused the homeowner – a woman in her late twenties – to wake abruptly from her deep sleep. She jolted awake, drenched in sweat.
The woman was confused for a few seconds, but once her mind cleared, she immediately grabbed her son, still asleep, and rushed out. She didn't bother with anything else.
Surprisingly, there was no trace of shock, panic, fear, or anger on the woman's face. Her long brown hair, slightly wavy, framed her face as her red eyes stared flatly at the house consumed by flames. She looked calm. Very calm. Her gaze seemed to suggest that she had expected this to happen.
"Mum?"
The single word spoken by her seven-year-old son, who was in her arms, caused her expression to change.
"Mariel, hold on tight."
The boy with dark blue hair looked at her with confusion, but quickly nodded – though his red eyes glanced anxiously at the burning house. The boy, carried in front, immediately hugged his mother tightly.
"We'll go find another house," the woman said, her long legs propelling her body to run.
For a woman carrying a seven-year-old child, she was fast. In fact, she ran faster than most – as if trained. She ran away from the burning house, heading west – towards a dense forest that led to a cliff edge.
Yes, they were now in a highland, on the border between two kingdoms.
The woman ran without looking back. The child in her arms closed his eyes, burying his head against her left shoulder. Neither of them panicked. This wasn't the first time they had woken up in the middle of the night and run like this. At least five times a month, this happened.
And, just like before, this time, the woman was determined to escape the pursuit of the hired soldiers sent to kill her.
"...!" The woman was startled, suddenly halting her steps.
"This time, you won't escape." A burly man emerged from behind a large tree. It was clear he had been waiting for her. The moonlight filtering through the leaves revealed that he had blond hair, a thin beard, and one of his eyes was completely covered. "We've been tasked to kill you, and that is exactly what I will do."
The woman clicked her tongue in annoyance, furrowing her brow. One hand clenched into a fist, while the other tightened her hold on her son.
"Surrender, and your death will be swift and with minimal pain."
The woman remained silent, but she knew exactly what was going on. They had expected her to flee here; the man was assigned to intercept her. The one who set her house on fire was behind them – it was just a matter of time before he arrived. The woman knew there was no way out. She was in checkmate, just like a king's piece cornered on a chessboard. No matter which direction she chose to run, there was no escape.
"…Let the child live," the woman said, her gaze sharpening. "In exchange, I will surrender my life without resistance. You can deliver my head to whoever hired you."
The expression of the burly man hardened. His eyes narrowed, piercing through hers. Whether he was truly considering her request or had another thought, the woman couldn't know. All she hoped for was her son's safety. That was all that mattered to her now.
"I understand," the man said after several long seconds. "When a mother sacrifices herself for her child's safety, I cannot ignore it. My client lost his son at your hands, and he would surely be pleased if I brought your son's head too. But very well, I won't kill your son. I won't drag him to my client either."
The man drew a large double-edged sword from the sheath on his back, his eyes still locked on the woman. "Now, lay down your son, take ten steps, and kneel with your head bowed forward. I will end your life quickly, easing the pain as much as I can."
"Can I trust you?"
"I have never broken a promise, and I don't plan on doing so now. I promise I won't kill your son."
The woman's expression was flat.
She knelt and gently placed her son on the ground. "Run, Mariel," she whispered softly, holding her son tightly. "At the end of this forest, there's a cliff. Jump. There used to be a village below, maybe it still exists. Those people once saved me when I jumped off the cliff. I'm sure they will save you too."
"I-I can't…"
"Mariel," the woman interrupted, releasing her son and cupping his face in both hands. Her lips curved softly, her eyes filled with love. "I'm not a good woman. Before I met your father, I lived by stealing. I lied. I killed. I was a very bad woman. I'm sorry you were born from my womb."
"I-I don't—"
"But Mariel," she continued, cutting him off again, pressing her forehead to his. "Having you was the greatest happiness I ever experienced, an unimaginable joy we felt. This world is corrupt, rotten, full of misery and hatred. But you are the light in our lives. Your presence made us strong enough to walk in it. Thank you for being born into our lives. Thank you for giving me the chance to be a mother. I'm not the woman who embodies the word 'mother' perfectly, but my love for you far exceeds any idea of perfection."
Tears welled up in the corners of the woman's eyes, but she held them back.
"From now on, you will live alone, just like I did. Perhaps the gods destined us to suffer, or maybe this is a punishment for my sins. But whatever happens, live on, Mariel, for yourself and for us too. Let us watch your journey from the other side of the world."
"I-I… Mum…"
Unlike the woman who held back her tears, the boy had no strength to do the same. It was true that he didn't sob, but his pale cheeks were wet with tears. His expression was even worse. Too painful to look at; an expression that should never be on the face of a seven-year-old.
"For every moment of your existence, thank you so much. For all of my imperfections in your life, and for every hardship and misery that will befall you after this, I'm so sorry. I'm weak, just a former petty criminal in a dark world. I can't do anything for you. So be strong, Mariel. Then live as you wish. No matter what you become, your father and I will always watch over you from the other side of the world with pride. For now, this is our farewell. You must continue to live. Goodbye, Mariel."
Mariel tried hard to hold his mother back, but she turned and walked away. He shouted, calling for her not to leave, for them to run again. But she kept walking, kneeling after taking ten steps. Her head turned back, smiling softly.
"Go, Mariel, and live on."
Mariel tried to stand, trying to stop his mother from turning away.
But his body was weak. Standing was a struggle. He could only shout and wave his hands to get her attention, doing what he could, even praying to the gods, demons, or anyone who might hear.
But the world never favored him. His mother's head lowered, and the sword swung sharply.
Mariel gathered all his strength to stand and run, but the sharp blade fell faster.
Mariel fell to his knees. His eyes widened uncontrollably, his heart shattered beyond measure. His mouth couldn't even release a sound. His eyes could only focus on the head of his mother, which was rolling away. Blood spread.
"Gob! You… have you—ah, you haven't killed that kid yet?"
Mariel no longer paid attention to what was happening around him; his eyes and thoughts were entirely focused on the head that was no longer attached to the body, on the soft face with the most charming smile.
"No. I promised her mother. I won't kill that kid."
"What if I kill him?"
"Glanz, I've already told you, I can't…"
"You promised not to kill the kid, not to protect him from death. You won't break your promise if I kill him. Think about it, Gob! Our client will pay a lot to see the head of this woman and her child! Didn't you say you need money for your wife's medical treatment?"
"…I'll turn a blind eye. Do it quickly, and do it without making him suffer."
"Got it! Leave it to me!"
Mariel had not blinked since. Clear tears had not stopped wetting both of his cheeks. Even when a sword wrapped in fire was behind his neck, Mariel didn't move at all, didn't give any attention. There was nothing in the boy's mind except flashes of memories of his mother. That gentle face that always smiled…
The sword wrapped in fire swung, and—