(The cursive text indicates something that happened in the past. Commonly throughout my book, I use it to call back to earlier events or simply things that happened sometime in the past.)

***

"Mama! Mum, mum!" Morio stormed in, flinging the door open, breathing out.

He turned, spotting Gloria on one of the swinging, wooden chairs, gazing at the fireplace lighting up the room. A sword rested on a shelf above the fire.

"Morio?" She put her legs on the red carpet before turning. "I thought you were going to sleep near the fire," she stood up and walked towards him, crouching, then brushing through his white, soft hair. She felt some of the snow hidden through the strands, now moving between her fingertips, prompting a smile.

Soon, she closed the green door and waddled over to the small kitchen, brewing something atop a triangular pot.

"I'll make you some tea, and after you've finished drinking, head upstairs to bed. I'll tuck you in."

"I don't wanna go to bed...!" Morio shouted, clenching both fists.

"Why's that, then?" she continued, lighting up a match, putting its lit end against the metal circle beneath a wood cup. The fire reflected in her blue eyes, and eventually, she blew it out.

"I-I..." Morio breathed in. "I had this bad dream."

"So a nightmare?" she asked, as she helped Morio take off his jacket and brown vest.

"...that a demon attacked our house and burnt it to a crisp!" Morio uttered.

"Really?" she raised both eyebrows.

He nodded. "So I came back, making sure everything's alright, Mama. If someone were to attack you, I'd fight them!" he announced, as Gloria brought the cup to a table, moved the chair and added more logs to the fire.

"You sure would, Morio."

Morio jumped up to his seat. He took a sip before making a sour face.

"I forgot about the snow sugar!" Gloria turned, making her way to a shelf. She opened a small box and threw two small white triangles into the brew.

Morio stirred it around, as Gloria looked out the window.

"You're saying you'd protect me, and yet, you can't add sugar to tea by yourself," she giggled.

"You know I'm too short for the shelf!"

"Well, you did manage to push the chair over and get the sword out of its sheath on the wall..." She folded her arms. "...and get those sweet seeds I told you we would eat at the next ceremony."

Morio rolled his eyes, sighing ostentatiously.

Gloria snickered. "You're still a kid, Morio," she explained, putting both hands on his forearms and crouching. "For now, let me do the fighting, okay?"

Morio moved back, breathing out, a bit annoyed.

"I'm gonna," Morio muttered.

"What was that?"

"I'm gonna train," Morio announced, scratching his head. "So I can be strong and tall, to get that sugar by myself!"

"Just for all that...?" She shook her head.

"No, Mama! I don't think I have to say it again and again, right?" he pointed to the sword before a sly smile appeared. "I'm gonna become a Demonear just like you!"

"I can tell you have it in you, Morio," she added, sitting on the opposite side of the table."At such a young age, though?"

"Of course, Mama!" Morio raised his voice, smiling, his eyes gleaming with determination. "I can't waste a single year. In the next five, I'll already be sailing and fighting against the waves with my crew!"

"It's a world full of dangers."

"I'll conquer them all!" Morio smacked the table, sticking his tongue out. "I'll start by becoming Mistwick's guardian!"

"Mistwick's safe, no matter how you look at it. You're right about everything else, though. I think if we ever were to travel somewhere, we'd need twice the power," she winked. "Don't count on Victoria for that."

"Yeah!" Morio jumped out of his chair. "I'll be in the back, fighting off demons, while you'll be swinging your sword like crazy! We'll be like... like..!"

"Oliver and Norbert?" Gloria continued. "At the end of the Second War?"

"You know that story too?!"

"I read it to you a few days ago, dummy," she grinned.

"A." Morio made a noise. "Mama, is it really okay?"

"Was I ever against it?" she asked, standing up and treading over to the fireplace.

"I m-mean... You always frown a bit when I mention it." Morio picked the cup up, and Gloria stopped for a second before turning.

"I guess so, yeah," she answered, closing both eyes and beaming. "Not because I'm unsure whether you manage to push through or not, but you do seem eager to leave the safety of home as soon as you get the chance."

Morio gulped.

"I'm so proud that it makes me a little sad," she added. "That's what I meant."

"Th-then." Morio jumped off the chair. "I'll make sure that you'll be even prouder that a smile will appear in place of that frown!" he pointed. "I promise, Mama! I'll become the greatest Demonear there is!"

"Sure you will, Morio," she nodded.

Morio opened his mouth, excitedly, before it turned into a yawn. "I'll ask Mr Bancho to help me get started with everything!"

"I think you'll learn everything about Demonears if you're just one of them, Morio. Stories can't portray these certain feelings," She closed her eyes as Morio walked up a few steps, holding onto the blanket.

"Pinky promise," Morio laughed.

"You read about that in the Paladin, didn't you?"

"I'm almost done with the first chapter!" he added.

"No bedtime reading today, though, Morio," she continued. "Sleep well,"

Morio sighed before such turned into a small beam. He nodded before jolting upstairs and landing in his bed. His eyes met the ceiling, and when he closed them, he swore he could see the night lights shining through the thick woods and painting a new landscape for his dreams.

The maps and other papers on the wall found themselves sharing that particular gleam.

Gloria put the empty cup into a bowl filled with water, before glancing at the sword, with a wooden bar from below firmly gripping its end. She frowned before blowing the candle out.

***

Mistwick has changed ever since that fateful night.

The rest of the same night became perfectly quiet. Morio didn't wail much longer, since he didn't have the tears to spare. Bancho could've repeated how sorry he was, that he wasn't any faster, but it wouldn't mean anything. He soon took the woman's scarred body into the hamlets, signalling for the few who were louder to save what can be saved.

Then, afterwards, again, it was solemn stares and not even whispers when he trudged through. Jyuzou fixed his glasses, opening his mouth, and Bancho only passed by, walking into the forests. That prompted Victoria to jolt for Per Frisk, without yelling Morio's name.

...and as for the old man, perhaps he was trying to find any plants or seeds which would mend her wounds. He disappeared for days and only returned with silent, unfortunate news. When burns faded over time, there was no telling whether she'd wake up the next day, next week, or even the next season.

Therefore, rumours spread around town, moving like the fire that reduced the hut to a mere memory.

Again, silence. The usual lively town centre was hushed, and all that morians once did daily was turned into uncertainty. What would happen next, then?

Was Mistwick not safe anymore?

Over time, however, things went back to how they were, despite the obvious shift in the air.

Maybe it was the sun that didn't shine bright enough? Maybe it was the animals who so hesitantly listened to commands? Or this... general feeling of uneasiness, knowing that a demon might attack at any given moment, just like it struck Morio's mother.

***

While the first three mornings felt long, the time that followed passed by like a bird soaring over the Brown Mountains.

The seasons changed from Yule to Herbes, and the colours turned purple. Gorro followed shortly after, and the morians went out for their annual day-long hunt when the sun met the moon at its highest point. The violets and dark greens transformed into khaki with the arrival of Dear, and snow started falling as the season shifted back to Yule once again.

Throughout the year, Bancho would set out on long trips, even lasting a third of a season. Victoria eventually spoke with the mentioned townsman, and Morio found himself living under the same roof as Jyuzou.

As for the white-haired morian, each week, he'd visit his mother in one of the hamlets, up a hill and near Mount Aria.

He'd pray to Shin, hoping that one day, she might wake up. He touched her cold hands, believing that she'd open her blue eyes again and tell him that everything would be alright.

Morians kept giving him the same look as if they thought it wasn't right of Morio to hope, waiting for him to accept reality for the cruel mistress it was.

Yet, the young child was stubborn. One could even say that the accumulation of everything was yet another reason for him to strive and become what he swore to be.

After all, the Demonear exam loomed over the edge. Its Shimori variant was held every six years, near the end of Yule, in the town of Magna. It featured a series of unique challenges, proving whether one was strong enough to become someone who could slay demons.

Morio wanted to become a Demonear. The best there was.

Nothing would stand in front of him and his dreams.

***

Year 476 A.F.W, 78th of Yule, Mistwick, Shimori.

On a cloudy day, when snow fell bitterly from the sky, a commotion could be heard outside the hamlets.

It didn't take long for the people to peek their heads out. Some stormed out of those few, tent-like huts and discussed in whispers, turning to the few conifers standing by a hill, with one that had an empty, hacked-out spot in the middle. When the pumped-out smoke from the chimneys swayed to the side, there they were, training, as per usual.

Morio's sword struck the wooden bat Jyuzou held as he gritted his teeth in fear. The white-haired yelled, swinging at the bat's midsection, forcing it to snap.

"M-Morio!" Jyuzou screamed, and Morio pushed him to the ground, pointing the dull weapon against his scared face. He breathed out, and as the morian opened one eye, Morio smiled.

"I won again," The boy announced, brushing off the sweat from his forehead. "Better luck next time, Jyuzou!"

"How can you say that when you're not even giving me a ch-chance?" Jyuzou shook his head, standing up. "...and you're using a stone sword against a wooden stick!"

"It's not the weapon you use, but the way you swing it!" Morio turned around, wagging his finger.

"The way you forge it." Jyuzou corrected him, fixing his glasses.

"The way you forge it...? The nearest forgery is in Magna, though!" Morio took out the map of Shimori, furrowing his zigzaggy eyebrows. "Here, precisely! Kyrkogarde has this one paladian Mr Bancho talked about!"

Jyuzou scoured around the snow before finding one half of the broken bat. With a sly smile, he raised one leg and extended his arm, swinging at the other.

Morio coughed out, with some pain from the strike.

"Jyuzou, bastard!" Morio flopped onto the snow, pushing his hand into a drift and clearing his throat.

As Jyuzou giggled triumphantly, Morio grabbed his leg, dragging him back into the battle.

The two got into yet another small brawl. They rolled down the snowy hill, passing by the few bigger houses, standing on wooden supports with stairs leading up to their orange-coated insides, before hitting a revealed patch of grass and moving further along the road, powered by sheer spirit.

Morio and Jyuzou tumbled through thicker snowdrifts, where the steep hill forced a few of the adjacent trees to grow perpendicularly to everything else in the village, and soon there they were, almost falling into the river going through the town.

Almost, as in, something stopped their continuous brawl.

"STOP!" Jyuzou screamed out, leaping to the side. He pushed Morio away, and the other spun around, before standing still, held by his palm. "You almost stepped on the flowers again!"

"Me?" Morio asked. "You'd be responsible too!" he tried wiggling out of his grasp.

"T-Tomfoolery, Morio! I would always notice a flower's delicate c-crown!" Jyuzou shook his head. "It's all your stupidity!"

"C-crown," he repeated his stutter, mocking him.

"Shut it!" Jyuzou pointed, putting one hand on a small notebook in a bigger pocket of his pants and strutting towards the said plant.

Morio breathed out, grabbed the sword that lay next to his feet, and looked at its stone finish. Jyuzou crouched, taking out yet another book, smiling as he scribbled something down.

"It's the same flower as last Yule. What are you writing down this time?" Morio asked.