I sometimes regretted changing my station. I hated when I work odd hours, on odd locations, and on very urgent requests. My next assignment is quite perilous, as I was told to be very discreet, not to be discovered by anyone. Not even her. My former liege. I need to find her.

It was a treacherous path, the arid air of the mountain ranges dries out the air off my lungs, making me wonder how she survives this kind of hell. My water jug is nearly empty. And still l have to go down and report after my work is done.

It's not about the pay. It's about the people I meet, the sights I see, everything that makes me master of the strokes. I've had enough of the days when I was fooling around. I stumbled upon a sharp rock, and noticed that my arm was cut and it was bleeding. I quickly blotted it with a parchment I had, because I don't bring fancy healing stuff. I realized that the blood blotted in a pattern resembling her when she's still a princess. I can't help it. And like a maniac thirsty for my passion, I let it bleed and blot even more…


My daughter has nurturing hands. I noticed it three springs ago, after she scattered those plum cherries on her second birthday. Today the plants blossomed, thanking her with its feast of scent and colors. She cheered and hugged her mother, both twirling in a graceful merriment. My wife leaped and she'll follow, their knee length skirts flung the air like dandelions blown by the breeze. The two would fall down the grassy backyard, startling me as I watch from a distance. When laughter followed, I smiled in relief.

"Father!" she called upon me, excitedly running with a handful of blooms, her unkempt hair, soft and flowing like her mother's, whips through her face. She threw the blooms in the air as I walked near them, and her deep amethyst eyes- my eyes- gleamed with springtime light. She blithely dragged me to where her mom sits, and pulled me down. I sat beside my wife and smiled, lifting my head to kiss her temples. Our daughter sat between us, and said, "Mother, are we going to visit Renais?"

My wife took out her brush from her pocket, and ribboned our daughter's hair to keep it neat. "We will, my dear, sometime soon," her promise brightened our daughter's expression, and worried mine. Obviously she noticed it, and my discomfort in visiting in-laws bothers me more than any battles we shared. I felt her hands curled above mine, and she smiled confidently. It was infectious, I was able to smile as well. My unease with Ephraim, my insecurity over Seth, my lack of assurance over the life that I'm giving her versus the comfortable life she left, all of it blurred by her smile…

"Father, I think I saw a man in a funny dress. In the backyard. Hiding in the woods!"

We are both startled. Her remark was so sudden and hyped, it barely registered in my mind. But to my wife, it is different. She might be a deep rustling stream, peacefully unperturbed it may outside, but inside, her thoughts rumble insane.

"How does the man look like?" my wife asked her, worried, albeit hiding it from her.

But I know it. I can feel her worry like it is mine. When we became parents, we suddenly knew.

"I don't know, long hair? Big armor?" she said, confused. Her mother's face give in and saddened with worry.

"I'm going to see who goes-"

"Saleh," She called out, her forehead creased in uncertainty. She handed a tome. I never expected that she'd still bring one here while playing with our daughter. "I was… trying to learn the spells, but I'm doing bad,"

Finding it very amusing and alarming at the same time, I pulled her up to her feet, and she carried our daughter on her arms, "We'll deal with learning spells later, Eirika. I'll look for the man. Be safe in the cottage,"

I held them both in an embrace, and heard her say, "You too, Saleh,"

Eirika. I thought I was giving you enough peace. Where did I lack?


There's no one in the woods.

My daughter could be imagining things. But there is something in me, and in Eirika, that knows when it's child's play and when it is not. I lit up a torch and check everything. An artisan parchment lies scrolled up on the floor, and I picked it up.

"Stay away from us, whoever you are!"


This tiny corner at the back window overlooks the cottage's dining room. A perfect spot to eavesdrop. "Mother," the young child called out. She looked just like her, hair like the skies, the bright, wide smile. She got her father's eyes, and probably some of the soft curls on her tress, "is father mad at us?"

"Why should he be?" she went to the table and place the plate of berries in front of her, which the young girl ate heartily, "I don't see anything wrong with what we did," she grinned, and only she can do it. An assuring grin. I have to work double-time. I needed a sharp point for this scene. All of a sudden, the wooden chimes rattled, the door of the house flung open. I had to hide down for a moment, making sure I wasn't spotted. I slowly peeked again.

Saleh came in. He was holding a parchment.

My parchment!

He whispered to Eirika and immediately, she swooped her daughter, saying, "darling, you need to take your nap," I heard the young girl complained about not being sleepy, and saw her father sitting down the diner, listening intently to the arguing mother and daughter inside the bedroom before he turned his attention to my parchment. I must have dropped it when I was hiding in the woods. I should have been more careful. He looked at it intently, and with a certain spark of worried anger marked his face as he tried identifying what the picture means.

"Saleh, what is it?" she came from the bedroom, and softly called out to him. She joined him on the table.

"Somebody has been here," he muttered, and showed her my painted parchment, "That's you in the painting. The person is after you,"

Eirika was startled, and turned to him, "Where did you get this?"

"In the woods. Somebody must have dropped it," Saleh leaned back the chair, "but what am I most concerned of is the medium that this person used,"

"Medium?" she asked, probably not aware of what Saleh is talking about.

"Eirika, he painted you… with blood,"

Yes, I painted her with my own blood. My very blood when I climbed this damn place. That's amazing.

"That's terrible!" I heard Eirika said, almost trembling in disbelief.


Even if I knew him for five years now, it still bothers me to see him very quiet. Although he is more reserved than most man I knew, I have never known him to be emotionally cold when it comes to me and our daughter. He was looking out the window of the living room, staring at the dark night sky. It looks like rain.

"Saleh," I called out, unsure of how to begin the conversation, "It's late; we should be sleeping,"

"I'm sorry, dear," he said, and looked back at me after I spoke. He wordlessly caressed my hair, stared at me blankly.

"Are you worried?" I asked, holding his arms consolingly, and he responded as he pulled me in a hug.

"Aren't you?... I can't hide from you, Erika. Aside from that, it also disturbs me that you are trying to learn anima. I felt like I wasn't enough to protect you,"

I was silenced as he let go. I stared at him apologetically. He might have misinterpreted my intentions. If he only knew that he is more than enough. "I'm sorry if you felt that way, but I was trying to read the tome just out of curiosity. I would not like you to think that way. You have given more than I need, and I am thankful for that. We are able to raise a fine, intelligent and kind daughter very well. We made it so far, and we will make it still,"

His smile is enough response. I felt his hands moving at the small of my back, and his lips landed near my earlobe, sending shivers in my womb, and his voice crawled my skin like hot fire on smooth oil, making me moan in delight, "You think it's about time for a second child?"

"Mother,"

The voice startled us out, and before Saleh and I can react to that particular, uh, moment, he let go of me like I was a handful of burning flints. We didn't know our daughter was already watching us.

"My dear!" he exclaimed like a guilty child, composing himself, "it's late, we should be sleeping,"

I giggled, realizing that it was also my line earlier. It was funny how a young girl made him lose composure.

"Father, are you hurting Mother? She sounded like she's in pain," our daughter's worried remark. She probably mistook my moans. I heard my husband laughing heartily, partly because of fascination, and partly of relief as he picked up our daughter.

"C'mere you little worrier," he grunted, feeling her healthy weight upon his arms as he carried her to me by the window. Her head buried to the crook of her father's neck and shoulders. "I believe your Mother's not hurt at all, yes?"

I stared and smiled at Saleh, who had been learning his own share of parenthood with me, and to our daughter, I said, "Not at all, my dear, in fact, your Father loves the both of us so much, he won't allow anyone to harm us," and with my hand, I brushed her hair away from her face, dishelved from lying on her bed.

"I love you, Mother and Father," she told us.

It is one of the most tender moments we've shared. She was already drifting to dreams as my husband lulled her to sleep, then I kissed her forehead. "We love you too,"

Her faint, tiny smile, just like her father's, was her response before slumber sets in. "Is she asleep now?" Saleh asked in whispers. I nodded and he smiled. I am amazed how he managed to embrace me and carry our daughter at the same time. "Ah, the two most important females in my life," he uttered and kissed my forehead. I embraced him back and told him sleepily, "and you are the only man in our life… well, until when she grew up and do the same thing we did five years ago-"

"Now, now, Eirika, she's still our baby!" he frowned and cut me short, making me giggle in realizing how he hated the thought of our daughter growing up and, to quote him, 'looking as beautifully graceful as you, Eirika, and being courted and desired by almost half of Magvel's male populace'

"Saleh, I know, do not worry so much, she'll always be our child, no matter what,"

He playfully pinched my sides as he said, "Mmm, I'll let that slip through, but I'd be glad if you are still up for some, uh, private moments together,"

"First one to drop loses" I dared him, smiling, and seeing him react the same way, albeit more mischievously.


It feels a little bit warm. And I need to drink. Why does everything have to be taller than me?

I took my favorite pillow and looked around for my Mother and Father. They are still sleeping in their bedroom. They probably felt warm, too, because they are not wearing their garments, just the blanket to keep the insects away. I let them be, and decided to go to the kitchen anyway.

I need to drink but the clay jar was too high, and the lid stone too heavy. I need to…

Aha!

The apples in the backyard! The ones we harvested yesterday! Alright!

I ran outside. I kicked off my slippers. I thanked the grass. I thanked the mist. I thanked the faint sunlight. I dropped my favorite pillow, the morning is too beautiful to miss! There a lots of colorful butterflies and dragonflies and the early morning fireflies! Wow!

Before I can hop my way to the fruits basket, I saw a man. THE man.

"Aaaah! F-"

"Shh," he said and winked, then whispered to me as he gave me an apple, "come here,"


"Saleh,"

"… good morning,"

"Saleh, wake up!"

That's Eirika.

I opened my eyes after her scream. I saw her sleeping robe slid down her naked body, then she hurriedly put on her day clothes. Her tensed, brash movements does not speak sensual at all, although the afterglow of the romantic evening hadn't completely faded yet, I have to ask, "What's wrong?"

"She's not in her room," her voice quivered in distress, "our daughter's not in her room. She's not inside the house, not even in the backyard, and her pillow-"

"Eirika, calm down-"

"-I CAN'T calm down!" she cut me before I can tell her that we'll look for her. That sent off my alarm. I quickly jumped off the bed and put on my day clothes. Eirika was already crying, "I found her favorite pillow lying out on our front porch, her slippers not far behind it. Saleh, our daughter is missing!"

She ran out and left me behind. Panicked, I picked up my pace and checked her room, and all other parts of the house, but she's nowhere to be found. Where could our child be?

Fear set in me as I ran behind Eirika. We had the same concern: the stalker.

"I'm going to the village to check," she said.

"Right. I'll go in the plateaus or in the woods-"

Aaaaaah!

That shrill scream!

"Sierra!" I stopped and yelled for her, and made a turn for the woods beyond our backyard. Eirika followed behind, sobbing.

"Sierra, where are you?!" She shouted. As we ran nearer the woods, we heard her yelling incoherently.

"Sierra!" I screamed as I saw her figure running out of the woods. Then she leapt to me and hugged me tight. I hugged her and worried if she was alright. I listened to her if there would be sobs or wails. But no. She panted heavily, and when I let go, Eirika was just behind me, shouting her name. She hugged her mother. And when she let her embrace go, I turned to see whether she got wounded or not.

She was smiling, and giggling loudly. No wounds, but instead, she has charcoal on her arms, and paint on her hands and cheeks. She was holding up a guiding ring.

"Mother! He's here! We went to the woods and got this! I know that the shining thing I saw two weeks ago is this beautiful green ring!"

I was relieved, and amazed. Her first guiding ring. When the time comes, she'll knew.

"Who's here?" Eirika asked, fear not quenched just yet, and paying no mind to the ring.

"Uncle Fordie!" Sierra exclaimed happily.

"Fordie? You mean Forde?" I asked. If my memory served me right, he's the Forde we know. Knight turned painter. The paint smudges and charcoals on her arms and face. Eirika's portrait sketched on blood. Sierra's description.

Long hair, big armor.

"Forde was here?" Eirika bewilderedly asked. I remained still as I let our daughter explain.

"He was here, he said Uncle Efram sent him to paint a picture of us!"

We heard a rustling noise from the thickets, followed by a struggling voice. I stood up as I saw who the stalker was. I held him up as his left leg got caught in the tangle of dry twigs and ivy.

"I'm so sorry guys," he muttered. Eirika shook her head in relief and laughed in ridicule. She grabbed the parchments from Forde so he can use his hands to stand him up, hearing him say, "your daughter is a hunter!"

"The mountains made her strong, what can I say?" Eirika said, and turned to our daughter, "get inside, dear, we'll have Uncle Fordie over,"

I laughed in relief as I heard Eirika told how voracious Forde was. And as they entered the cottage, I heard Eirika's remarks on his appetite that was too true, it sounded exaggerated.

I turned to the man as my wife and my child got safely inside. I managed to get him off the tangle. He fixed his armor. It was then when I saw his wounded, bandaged arm. Now the blood painting made sense. Artists can have weird inspirations. "You caused so much alarm in us," I feigned indignation, but it wasn't effective now I know our daughter's safe.

"Hey, Saleh, I'm sorry," he said in his scruffy tone, "I didn't mean to. I just have to do this secretly,"

I felt my eyebrow raised, "Why? That reason must be worthy enough to hear,"

He dusted his doublet, and said, "Sure… but can you… spare me some vulneraries?"


It was fun being on this mission, after all. Home bound, at last. It was a lot easier going down to Carcino than climbing up the village. I remembered when I explained to them why I must do it clandestinely. Over tea and bread and freshly harvested fruits, I told them that King Ephraim had been missing them. Therefore, he sent me here.

Forde, please. I want to know how Eirika fares with Saleh in Caer Pelyn. If possible, I want you to capture their moments in its most natural way. If they are aware of your presence, they might feign emotions. I want to be sure that Eirika is really happy with her decision.

Yes, it was all big Uncle Efram's idea, I told them. I handed them two of the parchments I sketched, and will send three for my report. I accomplished my mission somewhat satisfactorily. I was glad to have seen Eirika in her best- in her most responsible, in her most fulfilled, in her happiest. And that is with Saleh and their daughter.

They'd be visiting us in Renais next week. I just have them promised not to tell that I got caught. Stopping for a quick rest, I checked my drawing again. I smiled, seeing three of my best sketches so far- one, during the time when Sierra jumped around with Eirika and Saleh watched them in quiet joy. Second, that evening Saleh was carrying Sierra and embracing Eirika. It was so tender, I grew envious. Lastly, the painting that will make the prudes blush a little…

… hold on.

I have the blood painting instead!

Uhg, luck. I even planned to make a little prank for General Seth with THAT painting. Oh well. It could be one way of Fate saying not to show IT to Uncle Efram or General Seth. Well, I still have some red paint here, I'd add up Saleh beside her, and Sierra between them, make it more natural like a family on a dining room. I painted a bigger smile on her lips.

It didn't look like it was faked. In fact, it looked happier than the original one, where she was alone.

She had always been my favorite muse. And to my astonishment, painting her with another man was not so tough…

Maybe because their happiness is their very own, and yet this beautiful thing they share is universal.


I know I was blushing.

Forde was supposed to give us two paintings. One of them is the time he painted Sierra as she marveled over the guiding ring, and the blood painting. He gave us the former, but he must have given us a wrong second parchment. It is not the blood painting, but something… out of the conventional. He painted THAT scene when Sierra caught us on the brink of our romantic advancements.

"Renais knights have always been weird," I claimed, a little embarrassed as well. I pointed a specific part in the drawing, "just… don't show that to Sierra; look at that, you were holding my …"

He smiled apologetically, "I was, but we both didn't know he was watching,"

I looked at him with creased forehead. He just smiled and assured me, "Well, I'm glad this landed with us. Imagine if that rascal gave this to 'Uncle Efram'. Imagine the horror and the scandal. He have gone a little too far, I know, but think of it this way: it has somewhat 'immortalized' how much love I have for you,"

"You are right," I sighed and smiled, "and besides, Forde carries something with him that will make you more confident next time we visit Renais,"

A grateful nod came from him. He looked out the window, the afternoon sunlight glints on his deep amethyst eyes. It showed an understanding of ages past, and of an unwavering, constant devotion to all things he considered responsibility. But this afternoon it was different. There is a certain sparkle, like tears being held back, in those eyes I have admired and loved. I remembered seeing it when the remains of my old, fallen friend crashes in front of us as I refuge, critically wounded, in the safety of his caped arms. I remembered seeing it when we made a vow to be together for all time. I remembered seeing it when he cradled Sierra for the first time.

He held my hand in such a comforting way my tears welled. He is still silent compared to most men I know, but he knew what I need. What we need.

"Have I told you that you are so beautiful?"

I was blushing like I was being courted for the first time. I suppressed a laugh. He must have sensed, and just remarked, "I'll take yes for an answer when you laugh,"

And so I laughed, feeling the colors rise up my face. I couldn't believe the once quiet sage would be capable of being affectionate. It was a very welcome surprise, though.

"No, you haven't- but you have always managed to make me feel so,"

"Because you are; words fail to describe, Eirika,"

He stood up and knelt beside me. I was somehow reminded of the knights… but he removed my slippers, and then, his. He stood up and helped me off my seat, to the lawn. "Come, Eirika, the springtime's hard to miss!"

It is one of those rare times I saw him genuinely confident in his happiness. A happiness without guilt, nor nagging 'what ifs' in his mind. It is, probably, his first fulfillment as both a father and a husband. All thanks to Forde.

"Saleh, my footwear-"

"Eirika, the grass. They are there for a reason," his lips curved in a handsome, rare smile.

I was grateful that springtime moment, when, once again after a long time, a youthful him celebrated the end of the day with me, and our daughter who was already scattering the cherry blooms in the air.

-finis-