As Elifero followed Jon deeper into the village, he gradually realized that something had changed.
The lively noise from the streets they had walked through earlier slowly faded behind them. Laughter became distant. Conversations disappeared. Even the sounds of people working seemed to vanish one by one.
Soon, only silence remained.
The air felt different here.
Heavier.
As though even sound itself hesitated to travel through this part of the village.
The houses stood much closer together than before, their walls old and weathered, their windows dark and watchful. Narrow paths twisted between buildings, creating pockets of shadow that seemed deeper than they should have been.
Elifero looked around.
Then he noticed the eyes.
People were watching him.
From half-open doors.
From darkened windows.
From the mouths of narrow alleyways.
Whenever Elifero turned his head toward them, some disappeared immediately.
Others didn't.
They continued watching.
Their eyes followed his steps.
His posture.
His breathing.
The way his shoulders moved.
The way he looked around.
It made Elifero feel less like a visitor and more like an animal being studied before a hunt.
His pace unconsciously slowed.
"Don't look at them like that."
Jon's voice came quietly from ahead.
Elifero immediately faced forward.
Jon hadn't even turned around.
"Just stay close to me," Jon continued. "Keep your posture straight."
Elifero swallowed.
"And walk like you belong here."
"Got it..."
His response came quieter than intended.
Elifero straightened his back.
He kept his eyes forward.
Even without looking around, he could still feel those invisible gazes pressing against him.
The feeling followed him with every step.
They continued walking.
Neither spoke.
Only the sound of their footsteps filled the narrow road.
Elifero began wondering how much farther they had to go when Jon finally stopped.
"We're here."
Elifero blinked.
"Already?"
Jon released a slow breath, almost like someone finally setting down a weight he'd been carrying.
Elifero looked around.
"I didn't even notice."
He scratched his cheek.
"All the houses look the same."
Only now did Elifero realize how heavily he was breathing.
The walk hadn't been particularly long.
Yet somehow it felt as though he'd been holding his breath the entire time.
The house in front of them didn't immediately stand out from the others.
It was modest.
Old.
Quiet.
But there was something about it that made Elifero pause.
It seemed lonelier than the surrounding homes.
Jon approached the door.
He pushed.
The wood resisted.
Jon pushed harder.
With a dull creak, the door finally opened.
Darkness greeted them.
Elifero stopped at the entrance.
Only a faint glow flickered somewhere deeper inside.
Jon stepped forward.
Click.
Warm light spread across the room.
"I'm home."
His voice echoed softly through the house.
No answer came.
Elifero stood awkwardly near the doorway.
After a moment, he asked,
"You... live alone?"
Jon glanced back.
One eyebrow rose.
"Do I look like someone who'd announce I'm home if I lived alone?"
Elifero scratched his cheek.
"I guess not."
Jon shook his head and continued inside.
Elifero followed.
That's when he noticed the small table near the wall.
A picture frame sat carefully in the center.
Around it were several yellow candles.
Some were already half-burned.
Others looked newer.
Dried flowers had been arranged beneath the frame with surprising care.
Elifero slowed.
Jon approached the table.
One by one, he extinguished the candles.
Tiny streams of smoke curled upward.
"Make yourself comfortable," Jon said.
A casual smile crossed his face.
Elifero didn't respond immediately.
His attention remained on the picture.
Then he looked toward Jon.
"So..."
Jon glanced at him.
"When you said, 'I'm home'..."
Elifero pointed toward the frame.
"Were you talking to the picture?"
Jon paused.
For the briefest moment, his expression changed.
Then it disappeared.
"I was checking if Mom came home early."
"Oh."
Jon walked away from the table.
"She works at the tavern."
"The tavern?"
"Yeah."
Jon leaned against the wall.
"Busy place."
His smile weakened.
"Some nights she barely sleeps."
Elifero nodded.
That made more sense.
Still, his attention returned to the candles.
"Why did you turn them off?"
Jon looked toward the table.
"Aren't candles like that supposed to stay lit?"
A soft laugh escaped Jon.
"That's my old man."
Elifero looked at the photograph again.
Jon's eyes rested on it.
"Yellow was his favorite color."
His voice had changed slightly.
Not enough to sound sad.
But enough for Elifero to notice.
"He used to say it reminded him of sunlight reflecting off the water when he went fishing."
Jon folded his arms loosely.
"He loved fishing."
A faint smile appeared.
"Said even daylight wasn't bright enough for him."
Elifero listened quietly.
"He used to joke that if he ever died, he wanted candles burning from morning until dawn."
Jon scratched the back of his neck.
"Unless someone was home."
Elifero looked at the lamps illuminating the room.
"So when you're here..."
"I turn the lights on."
Jon nodded.
"Feels closer to what he wanted."
The room became quiet.
Not uncomfortable.
Just heavy.
Elifero looked at the photograph again.
Then, after hesitating, he asked,
"How did your father die?"
Jon's smile vanished.
His eyes lowered.
For the first time since Elifero had met him, something in Jon's confidence seemed to weaken.
The room suddenly felt quieter than before.
"Well..."
Jon began.
The conversation didn't last long.
Jon changed the subject.
Quickly.
Almost too quickly.
His voice became light again.
Careless.
As though nothing important had been said.
As though the strange pause hadn't happened.
As though everything was normal.
But Elifero had noticed.
Something was there.
Something Jon didn't want to talk about.
Elifero decided not to push.
Then a sound came from the door.
Bang.
Elifero looked toward it.
Another impact followed.
Bang.
Then again.
Harder.
The door shook violently inside its frame.
Elifero flinched.
Jon didn't.
Elifero looked toward him.
Jon had gone silent.
Too silent.
His expression had changed.
The color had drained slightly from his face.
His eyes remained fixed on the floor.
There was no panic.
No confusion.
No surprise.
Only recognition.
Elifero's stomach tightened.
"Should I..."
He looked toward the door.
"...help?"
Jon didn't answer.
The banging continued.
Bang!
The door rattled.
Elifero turned back toward Jon.
He wasn't even looking at it.
His gaze remained lowered.
Almost like he was trying not to see what was coming.
Like he'd already seen it too many times.
Then—
BANG!
The door burst open.
Elifero jumped.
A woman stepped inside.
Her movements were uneven.
One foot dragged slightly behind the other.
Her clothes were disordered.
Wrinkled.
Loose.
As though she'd come from somewhere rough and hadn't bothered fixing herself afterward.
A bottle hung from one hand.
It swung lazily as she walked.
The smell reached Elifero immediately.
Alcohol.
Strong.
Sharp.
Heavy enough that it seemed to fill the room before she did.
She walked past them.
Didn't look at Elifero.
Didn't look at Jon.
Didn't say anything.
She simply passed.
Jon spoke.
"Welcome home, Mother."
He smiled.
Elifero looked at him.
Something about that smile unsettled him.
It looked perfect.
Too perfect.
Too carefully controlled.
It didn't belong on his face.
Elifero's chest tightened.
This wasn't the hardworking mother Jon had described.
Not even close.
Elifero opened his mouth.
He thought about greeting her.
Then she looked at them.
Elifero stopped.
Her eyes were cold.
Sharp.
Empty.
Not simply tired.
Not merely hurt.
There was something in them that Elifero couldn't understand.
Something hostile.
Something that didn't belong in the eyes of a mother looking at her child.
"I told you..."
Her voice was low.
Unsteady.
Her fingers tightened around the bottle.
"I told you to stop bringing other people's children into this house..."
Jon's smile didn't move.
"...why don't you ever listen?"
Silence.
Then her voice exploded.
"WHY DON'T YOU EVER LISTEN, YOU LITTLE SHIT!"
Her arm moved.
Elifero barely saw it.
The bottle left her hand.
It flew across the room.
A blur.
Fast.
Violent.
A rush of air sliced past Elifero's face.
Then—
CRASH!
Glass exploded against the wall beside Jon.
Fragments scattered everywhere.
Across the floor.
Across the table.
Across Jon.
For a moment, Elifero couldn't move.
Neither could his mind.
The sound of breaking glass seemed to repeat inside his head long after the room had gone quiet.
Jon hadn't moved.
He hadn't ducked.
He hadn't shouted.
He hadn't even flinched.
Elifero stared.
The room felt suffocating.
His heartbeat became louder.
He looked toward the woman.
No shock.
No regret.
No guilt.
Only anger.
Only hatred.
Her hands trembled.
Her jaw was clenched so tightly that it looked painful.
Elifero's skin grew cold.
This wasn't an accident.
She had meant to throw it.
She had meant for it to hit near Jon.
Maybe even at him.
"Are you crazy?"
The words escaped Elifero before he could stop them.
The woman's eyes shifted.
They landed directly on him.
Elifero froze.
One look.
That was all it took.
A thought appeared inside his mind immediately.
She's going to kill me.
It didn't feel like imagination.
It felt like certainty.
His throat tightened.
His hands became cold.
His breathing turned shallow.
He couldn't move.
Instinct forced him to look away.
Toward Jon.
And what he saw made something inside him break.
Small pieces of glass rested across Jon's left arm.
A few lay in his lap.
Tiny cuts marked his skin.
Not deep.
But enough.
Enough to bleed.
A thin line of red slid slowly down his arm.
One drop fell.
Then another.
Elifero stared.
Jon remained silent.
No reaction.
No complaint.
Nothing.
That silence disturbed Elifero more than the bottle itself.
"How...?"
His voice cracked.
Jon looked toward him.
"How can you stay quiet after that?"
Elifero's hands curled into fists.
His teeth clenched.
Something hot burned behind his eyes.
He didn't understand why.
Tears gathered anyway.
"What's wrong with you?!"
He turned toward the woman.
"I know you told him not to bring guests here."
His voice trembled.
"Fine!"
He pointed toward Jon.
"But this?"
His breathing grew heavier.
"You could have killed him!"
The woman stared.
Elifero didn't stop.
"Why?"
His voice cracked.
"Why would you do that?"
"What kind of mother are—"
A hand grabbed him.
Firm.
Sudden.
Elifero stopped mid-sentence.
He turned.
Jon.
Jon's hand held his arm tightly.
Elifero looked into his eyes.
They were quiet.
But desperate.
Stop.
Jon didn't say the word.
He didn't need to.
Elifero understood immediately.
And somehow, that made everything worse.
"Why...?"
His voice broke.
"Why aren't you angry, Jon?"
Jon didn't answer.
"Why?!"
Tears finally spilled from Elifero's eyes.
Behind him, the woman's voice entered the silence.
"You little shit."
Elifero froze.
Her voice had changed.
No shouting.
No slurring.
Cold.
Sharp.
Controlled.
Her anger had shifted.
Now it was directed at him.
"Don't ever talk to me like that."
She stepped closer.
Elifero's entire body trembled.
Her eyes locked onto his.
"Or I'll kill you."
Elifero stopped breathing.
A pause.
"Right where you stand."
His legs weakened.
There was no humor in her voice.
No exaggeration.
No drunken joke.
She meant it.
Elifero saw that clearly.
She turned away.
Walked toward the doorway.
Then stopped.
Without looking back, she spoke one final time.
"Better not find you in my house in the morning."
Then she disappeared.
The door shut behind her.
Silence returned.
Jon released a slow breath.
A sigh.
Relief.
Elifero remained where he was.
Then Jon noticed something.
A small movement.
A tremor.
He looked toward Elifero.
Elifero's entire body was shaking.
Tears continued falling.
One after another.
She was going to kill me.
The thought repeated.
She was really going to kill me.
His breathing became uneven.
If Jon hadn't stopped me...
He remembered her eyes.
I saw it.
His chest tightened painfully.
She meant it.
Fear wrapped itself around him.
This feeling was different.
Completely different from anything he could remember.
A fear not born from a monster.
Not from something hidden in darkness.
But from another human being.
Elifero's breathing became faster.
Then—
A warm hand rested gently on his head.
Elifero froze.
Jon stood beside him.
"It's okay."
His voice was soft.
Elifero looked up.
Jon gave him a faint smile.
"You're safe."
He paused.
"Just..."
His eyes shifted toward the door.
"...don't talk back next time."
Then Jon crouched.
He reached toward the broken glass.
Picked up one shard.
Then another.
As though nothing had happened.
Elifero stared at him.
At the blood running down his arm.
At the calm expression on his face.
At the way he quietly began cleaning up the pieces of the bottle his own mother had thrown at him.
And for the first time since meeting Jon—
Elifero realized that perhaps the boy's smile wasn't proof that everything was okay.
Perhaps it was simply how he survived.