Samuel's body felt weightless. His limbs were numb, his mind drifting between reality and something far beyond. The last thing he remembered was the roar of the dragon, the world engulfed in flames, and the Shadow Tamer's final scream before everything went dark.
Then—silence.
And then—warmth.
A scent filled his nose. Not the stench of blood and battle, but something familiar. Something… comforting.
Stew.
Samuel's eyelids fluttered. When he opened them, he wasn't on the battlefield. He wasn't in danger. He wasn't fighting for his life.
He was home.
A Mother's Love,
The sun hung high in the sky, bathing the small village in golden light. Birds chirped, and the wind carried the scent of fresh earth and cooking. The laughter of children echoed from a distance, mixing with the sounds of villagers going about their daily lives.
Samuel sat on the ground, a wooden toy wolf clutched in his hands. His small fingers traced the carved edges as he made it run through the dirt, pretending it was hunting invisible prey.
"Samuel! Come inside, the stew is ready!"
His mother's voice called from the small house behind him. It was a soft, warm voice, full of love.
Samuel grinned. "Coming, Mama!"
He jumped to his feet, brushing the dirt off his pants before running toward the house. His bare feet barely made a sound on the wooden floor as he rushed inside.
The moment he entered, the rich aroma of beef and vegetables filled his nose. His stomach rumbled.
His mother stood by the cooking pot, stirring the thick stew with a wooden ladle. Her long brown hair was tied back, a few strands falling loose over her soft features. Her emerald-green eyes—ones that Samuel had inherited—sparkled with warmth as she looked at him.
"You were playing in the dirt again, weren't you?" she teased.
Samuel giggled and nodded. "I was hunting!" He lifted his toy wolf. "Grayfang caught three deer today!"
His mother chuckled. "Then I guess Grayfang deserves some stew too, doesn't he?"
Samuel gasped dramatically. "Really? He can eat with us?"
She smiled and placed a small wooden bowl in front of his toy. "Of course. But only if he has good table manners."
Samuel nodded seriously. "Grayfang always has good manners."
She ruffled his hair. "Then let's eat."
Dinner and Laughter,
Samuel sat at the small wooden table, his legs swinging under the chair. His mother placed a steaming bowl of stew in front of him. The broth was thick, the vegetables soft, and the beef tender. A fresh piece of bread sat on the side.
He grabbed the spoon eagerly and took a big bite. The warmth spread through his body, comforting and familiar.
His mother watched with a gentle smile as she ate her own bowl.
"Slow down," she laughed. "You'll burn your tongue."
Samuel swallowed quickly and grinned. "But it's so good!"
She shook her head in amusement. "You always say that."
"Because it's true!"
She reached over and wiped a bit of broth from his cheek with her thumb. "You're just like your father. He used to eat like the world was ending."
Samuel tilted his head. "Was Papa a good hunter too?"
His mother hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yes. He was strong and kind, just like you."
Samuel puffed out his chest proudly. "I'll be the best hunter in the village one day!"
His mother chuckled. "I don't doubt that."
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the clinking of spoons against bowls.
After a few minutes, Samuel looked up. "Mama?"
"Yes, love?"
"Will we always be together?"
His mother blinked, then smiled. "Of course."
Samuel grinned. "Even when I grow up?"
She laughed. "Even then."
Samuel thought for a moment before holding up his pinky. "Promise?"
His mother's eyes softened. She reached out, wrapping her pinky around his. "Promise."
Samuel beamed.
The warmth of the stew, the sound of his mother's laughter, the feeling of safety—it was the happiest moment he could remember.
The Dream Begins to Fade,
But then… something changed.
The air grew colder. The sunlight dimmed.
Samuel's mother was still smiling, but… she looked sad now.
The room blurred. The scent of stew faded.
Samuel blinked. "Mama?"
Her form flickered, like a dying candlelight.
Samuel reached for her, but his hands passed through empty air.
"No," he whispered. "No, wait!"
His mother smiled one last time.
Then—darkness.