Rachael cocked her head and looked away. "That's very good news. The best we've had in a long time."
"I... I know."
The night air grew colder as silence settled between them.
"Garth?"
"Yes?"
"I have something to—"
"Garth!"
"Big brother!"
Rachael never got to finish her sentence. Garth's father and younger brother appeared, their voices cracking with raw emotion. His father dropped the bag he had been carrying as Garth bolted toward them.
He wrapped them both in a crushing embrace.
His heart ached. He held them so tightly, unwilling to let go. Tears he hadn't realized he had been holding back spilled over. Seeing them shattered something inside him, and now it all poured out.
His father and brother assumed his reaction stemmed from the horrors of war. But Garth wept because he had lost them in his past life.
"Garth, my boy." His father patted his back.
"Big brother, is something wrong?"
"No." He laughed through his tears, a strangled mix of sobbing and chuckling. "I'm completely fine."
He finally let them go.
"I can't imagine what you went through in the war, but words cannot express how happy I am that you're back," his father said.
Garth smiled and wiped his tears away. Then, his gaze landed on their hands, bruised and scraped. His eyes darted to the bag his father had dropped.
"Where did you two go?" He noticed how they shifted and avoided his gaze. Then it hit him. "You went to the building sites."
Their silence was all the confirmation he needed. A little confused at first, Garth remembered something crucial.
"But… I made sure you both had enough food for at least two weeks."
That supposed 'enough' had only been two small meals a day, barely sustaining them. But at the time, it was all he could manage.
"Garth… it was all stolen," his father admitted, head lowered.
Garth clenched his fists in anger but quickly forced himself to stay composed.
"It's alright." He smiled, even as tears threatened to spill again. "Everything will be fine from now on." He turned to his little brother, squatting to meet his gaze. "I swear it."
After settling in, Garth invited Rachael to join them for dinner, but she politely declined, saying her goodbyes before heading home.
Garth cherished every moment with his family, absorbing their presence, relishing the simple reality that they were alive. His closeness did not go unnoticed. His father and brother even wondered if something was wrong, but they chalked it up to the trauma of war. So, they simply welcomed him without questioning it further.
When exhaustion set in, they all moved to their small bedroom—more of a cramped storage space than a proper room, but they never complained. Garth carried the pot of food Rachael had prepared for them and placed it in the corner.
His little brother unrolled a mat from the side of the room, spreading it out on the floor. They set down two pillows and a single blanket, then huddled together.
Back in his past life, Garth would have thought about the comfortable home they eventually moved into. But now, with his family beside him, the hard ground beneath them didn't matter.
A yawn broke his thoughts. He turned to his father, whose lids were already drooping.
"Good night, Father," Garth said softly.
"Good night, son." His father smiled before sleep claimed him.
Garth looked at his little brother, rubbing his eyes.
"Good night, Lionort."
His brother curled into him. "Good night, big brother." His voice was barely above a whisper before he drifted off.
Garth's eyelids grew heavy. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this happy—this at peace.
As he surrendered to sleep, he whispered, "Thank you, Calista."
***
Garth's dreams carried him to a different time. He was an Epic again, mounted atop a brilliant white mare, charging toward victory.
Beside him, his best friends fought valiantly, striking down Demon Kings one after another. The battlefield was theirs.
But then—one by one—his friends fell.
Before he knew it, he stood knee-deep in an ocean of blood.
Corpses littered the surface like lily pads, stretching as far as the eye could see.
Garth stumbled and fell forward. The invisible ground beneath his feet had vanished, and now he was submerged. He kicked frantically, forcing himself back to the surface, gasping, spitting out mouthfuls of blood.
He flailed, struggling to stay afloat—until he found something solid beneath him.
Relief surged through him.
But when he looked down, his stomach twisted.
His father's lifeless body.
He screamed, recoiling, only to find himself surrounded by more floating corpses—his father, his brother, his friends… and his wife.
Then, behind them all, a towering demon loomed—twenty meters tall, fire spewing from its mouth and eyes. It laughed, a deep, bone-chilling sound that made his very soul tremble.
The laughter grew louder. The demon's flaming maw opened wide.
Garth's froze, his body betrayed him.
Then, the demon swallowed him whole.
***
"NO!" Garth jolted upright, screaming.
His father and brother awoke with a start.
"What's wrong?" They spoke in unison.
His chest heaved, his breaths ragged and desperate. Sweat drenched his skin, yet he was ice-cold.
"Garth?" His father reached for him.
Garth forced himself to stop panting. Then he smiled.
"Oh, sorry, Father. Just a nightmare." He laughed weakly. "All the women I ever messed with came after me."
His family didn't buy it.
"Are you sure, brother?"
"Of course." He glanced at the window. The sky was still black. "Now, please, both of you—go back to sleep."
"Garth—"
"I promise, Father," he interrupted. "It was nothing. Get some rest."
His father and brother exchanged glances, but exhaustion won out. Slowly, they lay back down.
Once they were asleep, Garth quietly stepped outside, claiming he needed some fresh air.
He sat on the bench in the backyard, burying his face in his hands.
The horrors of his past life still clung to him.
He lifted his head, staring into the night sky.
Would he be able to do it?
Would he be able to save them this time?