It had been four months since Archus' birth, and Laya was already eager to return to work.
For the past few weeks, the small hut nestled deep in the forest had begun to feel confining.
Though the quiet of their temporary home had once comforted her, restlessness had begun to creep in.
The bare wooden walls, once a haven, now felt more like barriers than protection, and the stillness weighed heavily on her.
Laya longed for the bustle of the mansion-the rhythm of her chores, the echo of footsteps in wide halls, and the warmth of her friends.
She couldn't bear the thought of letting Lyndis and Rin shoulder everything alone, especially when they had been visiting her every day, bringing food and supplies.
Knowing they were doing all this on top of their duties at the mansion made her heart ache with guilt.
Despite their gentle protests for her to rest a little longer, her mind was already set.
Her wounds had healed, and she felt strong enough to return.
So clad once more in her cream linen maid uniform and dark brown apron, she wrapped her son, Archus in a thick fur blanket and secured him snugly to her chest.
She stepped out onto the small porch, taking a deep breath as sunlight filtered through the forest canopy. Behind her, the door creaked softly as Lyndis followed, closing it gently and locking it behind her.
Just before they left the clearing, Lyndis paused by the garden.
There, half-shaded by ferns and wildflowers stood a small, weather-worn statue-barely taller than her knee. It depicted a woman robed in flowing garments, her arms extended as if offering shelter or a blessing.
Lyndis approached it in silence, her footsteps were gentle over the dew-covered grass. She bent slightly, brushing a few leaves from the base and pressing her fingers to her heart.
"Thank you for your protection, Goddess," she murmured, her voice barely above the whisper of the wind.
Rin, already waiting at the edge of the path, watched her quietly. When Lyndis returned, the three women exchanged nods.
No words needed.
Together, they set out along the narrow trail, silverleaf trees arching overhead. Leaves whispered in the breeze, and birdsong threaded through the woods.
-----
As Archus lay cradled against his mother, his tiny eyes fluttered open. For the first time, he truly saw the world outside.
Sunlight pierced the canopy in dappled rays, warming his blanket. The air smelled of damp earth and blooming wildflowers. Above, iridescent birds darted between branches, their feathers flashing like jewels as they flitted through the trees.
Everything pulsed with a subtle, living magic. And though he could not yet speak, Archus felt it. Everything was new. And it was beautiful.
They walked for some time along the forest path, the trees gradually thinning as the ground sloped upward. Roots jutted from the earth beneath their feet, and patches of sunlight danced along the way.
After crossing the slope, the forest gave way to open sky.
A vast field of wheat stretched into the horizon, its golden hue signaling the approach of harvest season. Scattered across the land were small farmhouses, with smoke curling gently from their chimneys. Farmers moved with quiet rhythm among the crops, tending the land in peaceful silence.
"It's nearing harvest season again, Lyn," Laya said, her voice tinged with excitement as her eyes lit up at the familiar sight.
Lyndis gave a small nod, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Yes, Laya."
"At last, I'll get to have that delicious bread again," Laya sighed longingly before turning to Rin with a grin.
She gently took Rin's hands. "You've never had any, right, Rin? You arrived during the winter after all."
Rin shook her head. "No, Miss Laya. But I've heard you talk about it so many times."
"Oh, you'll love it," Laya said warmly. "Freshly baked harvest bread is something you never forget."
Rin glanced at the golden fields, her brow furrowed slightly. "Miss Laya, the wheat seems so ready already. Back where I come from, it takes much longer."
Laya smiled, her eyes twinkling. "That's the beauty of this land, Rin. The magic here coaxes the wheat to ripen early. It's a blessing we cherish."
Rin nodded, her curiosity satisfied. "I see. That's amazing."
As they spoke, Archus listened, wide-eyed and alert.
For over four months, this had been his routine-whenever his body could resist the urge to sleep, he focused on every word they said.
Over time, he had begun to piece together the language they spoke. The grammar and rhythm felt oddly familiar, similar to the thoughts in his head, though not quite the same.
His vocabulary was still small, and his body was still too young to speak - but that didn't matter.
He had time. And he would learn.