The soft creak of the wooden floor betrayed the lightness of the twelve years old boy's footsteps as he wandered through the rooms of the house. The afternoon sun filtered through the cracks in the wall, gilding the floor in streaks. In the kitchen, his mother and grandmother were talking quietly, their words dissolving as they saw him.
"Hey, honey, did you have a nice bath?"
He looked at her and stood up proudly, showing off his clothes.
"Yes, Mom, it was warm. I loved the new clothes you bought me."
She smiled and gently stroked his still-damp hair.
"So handsome, my love. Can you do something for me? You know those herbs we always pick in the forest? Can you get some for me? I want to make tea for your grandmother and that soup you love."
The boy beamed, nodded eagerly, and darted out the door toward the forest.
As he walked along the dirt path, he kicked pebbles and hummed to himself. The wind rustled through the leaves, tousling his hair — once damp, now it had taken on its natural shape: dark brown curls that framed his bright blue eyes. The mission felt heroic: gathering herbs to 'save' the evening — and, of course, securing his favorite soup's place at supper also seemed pretty important.
I think I'll pick some of those pretty purple flowers Mom likes...
Straying from the main path, he followed a trail that led to an open field of lavender. The sweet scent hung in the air like a secret suspended in time. And there, between the lilac of the flowers and the soft blue of the sky, he saw her.
A small girl, maybe his age, stood there wearing a turquoise dress and a white hat adorned with flowers. She touched the lavender carefully — then her eyes darted across the field, a restless look searching for something.
The boy approached slowly, curious and watchful.
"Hi... are you lost?"
The girl turned, startled. There was something unusual about her. Her eyes were large, and unlike the dull leaves around them — the green in her eyes gleamed in a pale hue, so bright he could almost swear he saw his own reflection in them. Her paper-white skin stood out even more with the blush that rose in her cheeks from the heat. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded with a shy smile.
"I wandered off... I'm looking for the main road."
Noah puffed out his chest, feeling responsible like a little guardian.
"I know where it is. I can take you there."
"But before that, I'm going to pick a few of these to take home to my mom."
She nodded as he carefully chose the prettiest flowers — as if he were evaluating diamonds. He stood up and placed the flowers in a straw basket he had used to collect the herbs his mother had asked for, then he bent down again, gently sifting through the lavender as if searching for something precious in that endless purple ocean beneath his feet. After several long minutes, he picked a single bloom and, with a nearly tangible shyness, extended his hand, offering the flower.
"Here. This one's for you — in case you get lost again and I'm not around."
She took the flower, and the red that had only touched her cheeks now suffused her whole face.
"Thank you."
As they began walking, a rustle in the bushes cut through the hot air. Noah spun around. A wolf—a pup, but fierce—emerged, nose to the ground.
The girl froze.
He stepped in front of her, arms wide, heart pounding.
"Run!" he shouted. But she stayed rooted.
Noah grabbed a fallen branch and yelled at the wolf. His legs shook, but he dug his feet into the earth. When the creature lunged, he swung the branch with both hands—just like he'd seen his grandmother do when sweeping dry leaves—and struck its snout.
The wolf growled, snapped, then backed away. Finally, it retreated.
Noah panted. The girl opened her eyes, slowly lowering her hands from her head.
"You're crazy," she croaked.
"You didn't move," he replied.
"I was scared..."
"Me too," he said, grinning, his clothes dust-streaked.
She stepped forward and brushed his shirt gently.
"All clean now. Let's go... before his mother shows up."
She smiled and took his hand.
They walked in silence until Noah spoke.
"You're not from around here, right? I'm one of the few kids in my village—you'd've stood out."
She nodded.
"I'm just passing through. We're heading to the capital. My parents..." She glanced away. "They came on business meetings and wanted to rest the carriage for a bit."
"So you snuck off without anyone noticing, huh?" Noah teased, smirking.
She lifted a finger, eyes closing briefly.
"Technically, to sneak off, you'd have to be locked up. I just... temporarily rerouted without permission."
He laughed, tilting his head right.
"I just didn't expect to get lost during the 'temporary reroute.'"
"A small miscalculation."
Suddenly, his stomach growled. She giggled.
"Looks like somebody's hungry."
Her stomach growled in response.
They averted their eyes for a moment.
Noah rubbed his belly and said, "Nothing a hot soup can't fix."
She paused, curious.
He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know... you think I'm weird craving hot soup in summer."
She shook her head emphatically.
"No, it's just—I love soup too, summer or winter. And if that makes you weird, then so am I."
His eyes widened.
"Really?"
He reached into the basket and held up the contents.
"Look—I came to pick ingredients for my mom's tea and my favorite soup."
She peered inside: mushrooms, herbs, roots.
"Wow, so much stuff. It'll be amazing. Just missing—"
"Potatoes!" they said in unison.
"First time I've met someone with such good taste," he said, playful.
She nodded, grinning.
"I must agree with you, sir."
They laughed, breathless with joy, and strolled without hurry—like two old friends on any sunny summer day.
When they reached the stone path, he offered to escort her to her parents. She shook her head, a sad smile playing on her lips.
"It's okay. I slipped away... If they see me with you, they'll blame you."
She pulled a necklace from her pocket. A delicate silver cord strung a dark matte blue stone. Its center bore two crossed swords behind a shield, with a heart-shaped flame and leaves twisting upward along the edges.
"It's to thank you for the flower—and so you won't forget me. One day, I'll repay you for saving me from that... monster."
She stepped forward, fastening the necklace around his neck. He flushed bright red, hunched shoulders, hands gripping his shirt.
"Bye, flower boy. We'll meet again, I'm sure. Then I'll take you to the place with the best soup in the world."
She began walking away. He waved slowly, then turned away singing, a wide smile lighting his face—as if his heroic mission had become even more unforgettable.
They parted ways. After a few steps, she stopped and looked back.
"Wait... I never asked his name. HEY! Flower bo—"
A shadow fell behind her. Her expression shifted instantly.
"Turalon... how long have you been following me?"
Behind her, a silver-and-blue armored guard knelt.
"A few seconds, Princess Syl. I must say it was cunning of Your Highness to wait for shift change to escape your other guard. Please, join me—your parents are worried."
Syl turned, stern-faced.
"It's not my fault he wasn't paying attention. But first—I just need to ask the name of the boy who saved me."
She took a step forward, but Turalon blocked her gently.
"Unfortunately, that's impossible, princess. If I delay any longer, I risk losing my position. I ask you to consider this..."
She sighed, resentful, eyes lingering on the path where Noah had disappeared into the woods.
"Fine... let's go. I can't stand another guard treating me like an idiot kid. At least you've never done that."
As they walked, Turalon spoke softly:
"I'm sorry. He seemed like a good boy. But, Your Highness, as heir to our realm, you shouldn't have contact with humans—especially in these times."
She took of her hat, and two pointed ears, unfolded like origami beside her head.
"I know, I know... Do you think I'm wearing this hat for decoration? Father explained why we're heading to the human capital—to decide if our alliance should remain. And it's not your fault. He'd pitch a fit anyway. Better we don't delay longer."
She halted once more, glancing over her shoulder.
"But he was different... not like the humans I've been warned about. Even trembling with fear, he faced a monster just to protect me."
Turalon nodded.
"That's courage, princess. It transcends race and lineage. Many mistake courage for the absence of fear. True heroes are those who face their fear—despite being terrified. Now come. If your older sister uses her Link, she'll freeze the entire forest trying to find you."
When Noah returned home, he carried the flowers—now slightly wilted—hidden behind his back. He still wore a smile, thinking of the girl he'd met. But upon stepping through the door, everything felt off.
His grandmother sat on the couch, face buried in her hands. The house was silent.
"Grandma... are you okay? Where's Mom?"
She paused, voice fractured.
"She... she had to leave, dear. Said it was something important. She might not come back soon."
Noah didn't answer. He just stood there. The flowers slipped from his hand, petals crumbling like hushed farewells.
The sunlight filtered lazily through the curtains as Noah laced up his boots. The house was still the same, only quieter now. He reached for a silver necklace on the nightstand and fastened it around his neck, the motion as familiar as someone who had done it a thousand times to start the day. He picked up a glass of water and some medicine, then walked to the next room.
His grandmother was sleeping upright, her hair now as white as morning mist. He gently touched her shoulder.
"Grandma... time for your medicine."
She opened her eyes with effort. "Is it Tuesday? Off to the bookstore?"
He chuckled softly.
"No, today's the forge. Bookstore is Tuesday and Friday."
"Oh, this head of mine... be careful with those sharp weapons, son."
"Don't worry. And remember, I only got that weekend security job because I turned eighteen last month and the forge master taught me how to fight, right? So I've got to give it my best."
She smiled, even through her tiredness.
He kissed her forehead and adjusted her blanket.
"I'll be back by lunchtime."
"Good luck, my boy."
Noah stepped outside, the light now brighter in the sky — but part of him still lingered in that lavender field. He looked up for a few moments.
"The sky's especially blue today. It reminds me of the dress she wore. I hope she's doing well... and doesn't get lost again."
He smiled and shook his head as he resumed walking.
"No way. I'm sure she's already gotten lost again. No doubt about it."
Still smiling, he tucked the necklace beneath his shirt — and melted into the sea of people who, like him, moved through life carrying private universes in their pockets.