The moonlight tonight was brighter than usual.

  But Harlyn’s loneliness

  remained the same as every night.

  The same candle.

  The same window.

  The same longing.

  Her small body couldn’t take it.

  She dozed off by the window with her teddy bear held tightly in her arms.

  ***

  She didn’t notice the familiar footsteps entering from the garden.

  Then—

  Thud.

  The sound jolted Harlyn awake.

  She looked out.

  What met her eyes was Meryl, lying face down on the cold ground.

  Harlyn didn’t think, immediately ran straight outside.

  Knelt down, she gently shook her mother.

  “Mom,

  Mom…?”

  Blood matted Meryl’s hair.

  Harlyn froze—without a moment's hesitation...

  Then closed her eyes.

  Her small hands trembled as they gently touched Meryl’s head.

  A faint green light seeped out, slow and careful.

  Harlyn relaxed slightly when she felt it—

  her mother was alive.

  But Meryl didn’t wake.

  Harlyn grabbed her hand, pulling with all her strength.

  “Mom…

  please… hang on…”

  Her arms burned, it was almost… futile.

  Instinct took over, she cried out.

  “Dad, help—”

  The words stopped in her throat; there was no answer.

  The cold night answered her instead.

  With a quick thought, Harlyn ran back inside.

  She dragged out the heavy duvet.

  Along with a pillow.

  And, of course—the teddy bear.

  She lifted her mother’s head with care, sliding the pillow beneath it.

  She spread the blanket slowly, carefully—

  making sure there were no gaps.

  Finally, she crawled underneath.

  Her head rested against her mother’s arm.

  The teddy bear lay between them.

  Mother and daughter huddled together in the freezing night.

  Beside the moon watched silently.

  Everyone else was asleep, safe in their homes.

  ***

  A breeze brushed against Harlyn’s face.

  She winced and reached for the duvet.

  It wouldn’t move.

  Half-asleep, she opened her eyes.

  Meryl was sitting up.

  Staring at the blue sky above the garden.

  Harlyn’s heart leapt.

  She sat up and wrapped her arms around her mother.

  “Mom!”

  Waited for the familiar touch—

  the gentle hand in her hair.

  It didn’t come.

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  Something felt wrong, she crawled around in front of her mother.

  Sunlight washed over Meryl’s face.

  Her eyes were open.

  But empty.

  No warmth.

  No recognition.

  Harlyn smiled anyway.

  “Mom.”

  No response.

  “…Mom?”

  Her smile faltered.

  Did I do it wrong?

  Did I not heal her enough?

  Harlyn gripped her mother’s hand tightly and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Green light bloomed again—

  slowly weaving between their fingers.

  ***

  Harlyn stood in endless darkness.

  “Mom…?”

  Her voice echoed.

  No answer.

  Then—

  A faint light.

  Harlyn quickly ran toward it.

  Meryl slowly appeared.

  But something was wrong.

  The space around her warped and twisted.

  Meryl stood still, head lowered.

  Her limbs were bound by shackles, cold and heavy.

  “Mom… I’m here…”

  Meryl didn’t move.

  Harlyn stepped closer.

  The distortion worsened.

  The noise grew sharp—unbearable.

  But she didn’t stop.

  “Mom…?”

  Suddenly—

  Meryl lifted her head.

  Her mouth was sewn shut.

  Tears streamed down her face as she struggled.

  “Mm—MMM—!”

  Harlyn stumbled back.

  “Ah—!”

  The light vanished.

  ***

  Harlyn gasped awake.

  The magic snapped apart.

  Her breath came fast and uneven.

  Meryl hadn’t moved.

  Her expression was still empty.

  Unchanged.

  Mom… what’s happening to you…?

  Harlyn swallowed.

  She took her mother’s hand again.

  Slowly—carefully—

  she helped her stand.

  One hand held Meryl’s.

  The other dragged the duvet.

  Step by step,

  Harlyn led her mother back inside.

  ***

  Meryl sat at the dining table.

  Harlyn watched her.

  Silence pressed down on the house.

  Maybe…

  Harlyn’s eyes widened.

  Mom’s hungry!

  When I’m hungry… I feel like I can’t move either.

  “Mom, wait!” Harlyn said quickly.

  She hurried into the kitchen.

  She rummaged through the sacks.

  Two potatoes.

  Then—A carrot.

  Harlyn held them in her hands and turned back towards the kitchen.

  What else…

  A pot laid nearby caught her attention.

  She nodded to herself.

  Soup.

  She rushed outside to a well in front of the house.

  Harlyn scooped up a large bucket of water... it was too much... too heavy.

  She filled it halfway instead, adding water with her hands.

  She glanced toward the woodshed.

  For a moment—

  Hale stood there—smiling bright, arms full of firewood.

  Dad…?

  Harlyn shook her head and the image was no longer.

  Right… we need firewood.

  Thanks, Dad.

  Harlyn left scooping water aside and hurried to the woodshed.

  "Nnh...!" She grunted.

  The logs were too heavy.

  So, she gathered smaller branches instead.

  Ran in and out.

  Again and again.

  Until the stone oven was full.

  ***

  Inside the house,

  Harlyn bent over, hands on her knees.

  Her chest burned as she gasped for breath.

  After a deep inhale.

  She straightened her back, puffed out her chest.

  Like a warrior—

  she stepped back into the yard.

  ***

  Before her stood the greatest enemy yet.

  A full bucket of water.