I awoke to the feel of air gushing through my ear, a sptter of something wet spreading across my face. I turned with a jolt to meet the snout of one of my family’s horses sticking his head through my open window and trying to wake me up. I got up and stretched before reaching my hand up to give him a pat with a giggle.“Want something to eat, boy?” I asked as he snorted before retreating back outside.

  The sunlight fluttered through my window, cascading over my room. The smell of st night’s dew mingled with the earthy scent of hay coming from the stables just outside. As my senses woke up, I heard the sound of a distant murmur coming from the vilge. They were slowly starting to wake up and start with their rhythmic morning routines.

  I slowly dropped my feet to the wooden floor, slipping on my slippers as I padded across my room. I headed straight out the back door and towards the horse’s pen. The cool spring breeze encased me in a flower-filled scent. As I breathed it back, I closed my eyes, allowing the day to start as my body tingled from the gust of wind.

  I just stood there, feet in the grass, wind swirling around me as I took in the morning. Though deep down it felt like something lingered in the air. My mother's distance over the st few days and my father’s constant coughing were ringing through my ears. I forced myself to rex and continue toward our horses, determined to not let it get to me this early in the day.

  As I filled their food and water trays, my mind wandered back to the days where my father’s hearty, deep ughter would fill my mornings every time I would feed our horses. I tried not to dwell on it, but through our hard times, our only rock was my father. But what can you do when your rock is struggling?

  As I tried to shake the thoughts, I heard a ruckus coming from within our house — nothing like my father’s ughter. Assuming it was just my little brother bumping into things with his poor eyesight, I decided to clean up before going inside to check. Upon entering, I quickly spotted my mother in a frenzy.

  She was turning the house upside down, throwing around anything in her way and breaking dishes in her search for something. Her eyes were filled with fear as her hair stuck out in every direction. Her hands were digging through our stash of dried herbs, collecting them into a basket while combing through every corner of our kitchen.

  “Mother? Is everything alright?” My voice came out in a hushed tone, uncertainty settling in.

  “Era, I need your help! Dig around the house and find whatever money you can.” She spoke in a hurry, her voice cracking in a way it never did.

  “Did something happen?” I pushed as I started to help look around, already knowing we weren’t going to find anything.

  “Your father's with the doctor. He said he’s not looking good. He won’t treat him unless we can pay for the expenses!” A few tears glistened in her eyes as she expined.

  A pit opened up in my stomach. “Mother…” I spoke slowly and carefully.“Yes, dear?” She didn’t turn to face me.“How much are the expenses?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I dreaded the answer.

  She froze as I finished speaking before her shoulders slumped and a soft exhale left her lips.“More than we have, dear.” She spoke with a fake sense of calm, not daring to look me in the eyes as I felt my heart sink into the pit.

  The day was spent in havoc with my mother and me digging around the house, finding random discarded coins, and collecting items such as our herbs to sell on the street. My brother was at the doctor’s with my father, keeping him company as we tried to gather more money. But things weren’t looking great.

  The house would have been quiet if not for our chaos, but it never was with my father and his constant jokes and stories — whether it be about the local drunkard down at the bar, or a joke about meeting up with younger women to jokingly rile up our mother.

  I can still remember the times he would run through the market with me on his shoulder. My giggling would spread around the people as his ughter roared with the sound of his stomping feet. There was always something interesting happening whenever he was around. Now, the only thing happening inside our home was a typhoon.

  By the time nightfall descended upon our vilge, I walked back home with a tiny bag of coins in my hand — nowhere near enough to cover the expenses for my father’s treatment.

  The night grew cold as the breeze cut through me, the chill raising goosebumps over my skin. My mind felt heavy and full. With everything happening, it felt like I couldn’t comprehend a single thought — only a desire for everything to be okay.

  The path I was on was dark. The vilge, being fast asleep, heightened the eerie silence, slightly broken by the sound of crickets as fireflies danced past my eyes. Tomorrow I was going to see my father, who had to stay at the doctor’s due to his condition worsening.

  All I wanted was to curl up under my bnkets to fall into a dreamless sleep, only to wake up to my father smming open my doors just to shake my bed to wake me up for breakfast.

  But those moments disappeared as his coughing worsened. His attempts to mask it and act alright never helped as we saw him choke on his own air, clutching his shirt by his chest as tears speckled in his eyes, worried he wouldn’t be able to catch his breath one day. The nights I’d spent having to share my bed with my brother due to his constant night terrors. I could try to wake up happy, try to feel the sunshine, but the darkness never left our lives.

  I slowly pushed open our front door. It creaked as I stepped inside, taking off my worn-down shoes and walking further into the house. It was dark and dreary, silent and empty. A feeling I hated in our home, a feeling that only appeared when something was really wrong.

  I approached the dining room where a faint light glowed. Peering around the corner, I spotted my mother sleeping with her face on the table, papers scattered around with a few loose coins. I softly sighed as I walked up to pce the little bag beside her before grabbing a nearby bnket to sling over her shoulders.

  As I turned to walk out, I saw my little brother by the doorway. His cheeks were puffy and his eyes were red. His clothes were disheveled as he stared at me with hope.

  I forced a smile, walked up to him, and ruffled his already messy hair with my dirty, dry hands.“Come on, kid, let’s get some sleep.”His teary eyes watched me carefully as I took him to my room with a soft smile.

  I helped him into bed and tucked him in. I saw clutched in his hands a thin piece of string with a wooden pendant attached. It was our father’s pendant — a piece of family heirloom that's been passed down for more generations than accounted for. I met his eyes after looking at it; they were still wide and full of tears.“Is dad gonna be okay?” he spoke tiredly, searching my face for an answer.I reached forward to push a piece of hair behind his ear as I replied.“Yeah, of course. You know dad, he always pulls through.”

  I tried to speak with hope, but he knew it wasn’t true from the strain in my voice and the emptiness to the words. He snuggled under the bnkets and closed his eyes, taking the lie as an answer.

  As I y beside him, curling up under the covers, my mind wandered. I wondered what life would be like in the kingdom outside of our vilge — the kingdom of Velthar and its ever-growing popution. Sure, the kingdom still had their peasants and poverty, but there’s a chance out there. A chance to make money, a chance to live a better life. Better doctors, and more of them too. A pce with higher crime but more guards — a pce that could fix all your problems. But that was just a dream.

  Velthar is not a pce for outsiders. It was a pce for hard workers, a pce for Velthar-born people, a pce for royalty. Outsiders like me and my family would never fit in.

  But even now, with my father so sick, there’s no way he would be able to travel on horseback for so many hours. Let alone could he handle the new environment. Let alone could they fit in, or settle down.

  ‘Wishful thinking,’ I thought as I y there, curling up next to my little brother, trying to sleep. But I couldn’t. My eyes were shut, but they still felt open. My mind was so loud yet so quiet. The horses outside were barely snoring, but the sound of my father’s absent snoring was what was keeping me awake.

  It felt wrong. It felt like a chunk of the house was missing — and it was. Without him around, this house was nothing.

  I took another look down at the pendant in my brother’s hands. Its swirls and patterns were marked and worn down. I could still remember my father wearing it almost every day until he got sick, and the string, although it was loose, felt like it was choking him.

  I felt the dread and exhaustion of the day finally start to hit me as my eyes started to slip closed — the day rushing past me like a nightmare as I fell into a dream, becoming surrounded by a kingdom of wealth.