4th April 1324
It had been one year since Rudra's name ceremony, and our family had found a new life in a tranquil village situated on the border of the elves and humans. It was a peaceful place, a new dom for us all. The first few days had been hard, but we had since bought a home, and Reyand had been named a village knight. His fame had spread through the whole village, a reputation forged in the few small attacks from wild whores he had bravely fought off. In the daytime, he would train the villagers in the way of the sword, and in the quiet evenings, the two of them—father and son—would simply play.
Rudra was beginning to speak now, his small voice only able to form two words: "Mom" and "Dad". He was walking all day long, and if he fell, he would simply start crawling until he found his footing again. He was always with me, a little shadow in our home, but the moment Reyand returned, Rudra would toddle toward him and say, "Dada, play!" He was enchanted by his father's fire magic, always wanting to see it and be near him. He would sit on Reyand's lap, his tiny hands wrapped around his father's magnificent beard.
At night, my little son would come to me, asking for a book and many more stories. I, in turn, tried to learn new things, to make new food, and to fill our home with as much warmth as possible. I loved every single thing my sweet son did. As I wrote these words in my diary, I heard the sounds of our party members and neighbours gathering outside. They had come to celebrate Rudra's birthday with us. Two years later, on this same date, my heart would not be as full.
4th April 1326
Everything was well settled now. Reyand was teaching many people, and Rudra was even learning how to wield a sword. He had become inseparable from the neighbour's boy, a new best friend. Rudra was a little naughtier these days but still so wonderfully innocent.
One day, the rain began to fall. I moved to the kitchen to prepare dinner, and that was when I felt it—a strange, unearthly silence. It had never happened before. I called out, "Rudra, baby, come!" but there was no response. "Come!" I shouted again, my voice laced with a growing panic. I moved to the bedroom; he was not there. I searched everywhere, from the bathroom to the drawers, but found nothing. My heart felt as though it would faint, and my eyes became blurry. I touched my face and realised the tears were already flowing, though I hadn't felt them.
My feet moved on their own, taking me to the home of our old granny neighbour. She was a woman with a face full of wrinkles, pale skin, and a cloud of white hair, all speaking to her age. Her dim black eyes were magnified by spectacles. When she saw me crying, her face filled with worry. "What happened, dear?" she asked. My voice was gone, my body trembling. It felt as though someone had stolen my very energy. With a ragged breath, I whispered, "Rudra is not at home." She was a truly understanding and knowledgeable woman. She told me to check other places, perhaps the training ground where my husband worked.
I listened to her and moved toward Reyand's teaching area. When he saw me, his face was full of fear. "What happened, dear?" he asked. I whispered with what little energy I had left, "D-d-dear, is Rudra here?" Reyand's face was confused. "No, he's home with you." My voice broke as I said, "He is not there." Reyand replied, "What are you saying? How is he not there? Did you look everywhere?" I confirmed that I had searched every room, bathroom, and drawer.
Reyand took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Don't fear. He will be here. We will find him." With that, Reyand and I began a frantic search. We went to every house and even the small temple in the centre of the village, but we couldn't find a thing. After searching for what felt like an eternity, I could no longer breathe. My body stopped moving. Reyand tried to comfort me, telling me to take care, but I could feel his hand shaking, and his body was sweating. His eyes began to turn red.
Old Granny, who had followed us, believed in the goddess. "Your son—I can feel his presence. He has something we don't know." Just as she spoke, a big, white, floating camellia fell in front of us. I looked at it and recognised it immediately. It was the flower I had worn in Rudra's long, yellow hair today. "I always bring a white from the temple," I said, remembering how the flower made him look like a big, beautiful, soft doll.
I looked at Reyand with a weak voice. "Dear, it's Rudra's flower," I said. "Where did it come from?" Reyand looked at the flower and said, "Maybe it came from our garden." We moved there, and we saw Rudra sleeping in the mud. I just went and tightly hugged him. When he woke up, he said, "What happened, Mom? Why are you crying?" "Oh dear, where have you gone?" Reyand asked him. Rudra tried to remove my tears, but his muddy hands only smeared more dirt on my face. "Don't cry, Mom. I will not play with mud," he said, ignoring his father's words completely.
I finally found my voice. "Promise me you will tell me where you go, okay? You are my heart, Rudra. Don't do this again; your mom cannot live without you." Reyand interrupted. "Same with your father. Tell me where you went, okay?" Rudra, our little light, said, "I was in our garden." A sudden silence was followed by big laughter, and Old Granny said, "You are right, kid. They forgot to check there."
"But okay," she said, her voice gentle. "The end is fine; everything is fine."
The three of us—Reyand, I, and Rudra—hugged each other in the dirt. I knew then that Rudra is truly everything to us. He is our bright sun. Without him, there was no life in us. He is the mana that put magic on our souls.