The summer had arrived — the pure lands returning to green, the shuffling grass dancing with the winds, the air glowing under the reflection of sunlight. The fields looked alive again, all green, while the white clouds gently sailed away across the endless blue sky. The scent of blooming flowers mixed with the smell of soil that had just felt rain a few days ago. It was a peaceful day, the kind that makes hearts slow down and souls breathe again.
A wooden cart creaked along the dirt road, its wheels crunching over small stones. Two people sat inside — Master and Lily. The cart stopped in front of a small but beautiful wooden house surrounded by trees. The door opened, and out came two familiar figures — Wood and Aron.
Wood raised his hand with a warm smile, and Aron stood beside him, wiping sweat off his forehead. The travelers stepped down, smiling as the soft breeze brushed past them. Master looked around and nodded slowly, pleased by the sight.
Wood and Aron walked forward to greet them.
"Welcome back, Master, and you too, Miss Lily," Wood said with a cheerful tone.
They exchanged smiles, and the group began walking together — Wood and Master in front, while Aron followed behind, carrying all the bags and items on his shoulders. Despite his young age, his steps were steady and strong. He didn't complain once, even when the weight pressed on his back.
After a short walk, they finally reached the house — a simple wooden home covered in paper flowers that swayed lightly in the breeze. The entire place felt alive. The small field next to it stretched wide enough to grow crops, and the outside was decorated with small plants, vines, and hand-grown trees. It looked like something that had been built with love and patience.
Master stopped in his tracks, amazed. "This… this is wonderful," he said, his eyes widening in surprise. "Thank you, Wood. Truly."
Wood chuckled softly. "It wasn't me," he said, shaking his head. "It was this young man here. He did everything — decorated, planted, cleared the rocks, and even prepared the field for crops. I only helped fix the house floor."
Master turned to Aron, his face softening. He walked closer and held Aron's hand tightly, his rough fingers pressing with the strength of gratitude. "Thank you, Aron," he said quietly, voice trembling slightly.
Aron's heart melted. He wasn't used to such words. For a moment, he didn't know how to react, so he simply smiled and let out a small laugh, his cheeks turning red.
Then Lily, who had been quietly observing, stepped closer. She looked at the paper flowers covering the front wall. "Did you plant these?" she murmured softly.
Aron nodded with a small smile. "Yes. It took me quite some time to set them up. I wanted to make sure they looked perfect… I hope you like it. And those trees outside too — I planted them last month."
Lily smiled, brushing her fingers along a petal. "They're beautiful," she said, her voice full of warmth. "Exactly how I imagined them to be."
Wood clapped his hands together. "Now, you both must be tired from traveling. Come on, let's go inside."
They opened the door and stepped into the house. The air smelled of new wood and varnish. Light filtered in through the small windows, making the floor shine. The furniture was simple — all made by Wood himself. Some of it was old, but still sturdy and full of life.
Master looked around, deeply touched. "Thank you again, Wood… and you too, Aron."
Wood grinned. "It's okay, man. For a friend, it's not much."
Aron stood up after a moment of silence. "Master, I should go now. I still have some work left in the field."
Master nodded, smiling. "Go on then, but don't overwork yourself."
Aron waved goodbye and walked out, his steps fading into the distance.
The sound of his stomps echoed across the fields for hours as he cleared rocks from the soil. Half of his land was already covered beautifully with growing plants, but he still worked tirelessly on the rest. Sweat covered his shirt and face as the sun blazed above. His hands were rough, his body strong — the physique of a warrior, yet humble enough to work the soil.
The afternoon passed, the air thick with heat. The sound of birds slowly faded, replaced by the rhythmic thud of his shovel. Everything seemed perfect — until a voice broke the silence.
"Aron!"
He turned to see Carlos running toward him, panting.
"Your goat… it doesn't look good," Carlos said, worried. "What should we do?"
Aron dropped his shovel immediately and ran with Carlos toward the small shed. His heart pounded as he reached the spot — there, on the ground, lay his goat. The poor creature wasn't moving, its breathing shallow.
"Come on, get up," Aron said desperately, kneeling beside it. He touched its leg — and his expression froze. The leg hung loosely, bent in a way that wasn't natural. "His leg… it's broken," he said, voice trembling.
Carlos shook his head. "I don't know what happened. I just came here and found him like this."
Aron looked around helplessly, his eyes dark with worry. "Come with me," he said firmly.
They left the goat resting on a cloth and began searching for Hakiro — the old herdsman known for treating animals in the village. They searched through the small paths, calling his name. Finally, Aron spotted him — Hakiro was walking with his own goats, his long gray beard fluttering in the wind.
Aron ran toward him. "Hakiro!" he shouted. "Please, I need your help!"
Hakiro stopped and turned. "What happened?"
Aron held his goat tightly. "His leg… I think it's broken. Please, can you help him?"
Hakiro knelt on the ground, taking the goat gently into his arms. He felt the leg carefully, pressing it lightly. The goat cried in pain. Aron clenched his fists, unable to bear the sound.
"Can it be fixed?" he asked, his voice cracking.
Hakiro sighed deeply. "How do I say this…" He paused, shaking his head. "This goat cannot be saved. The bone isn't just broken — it's shattered into pieces. It's not like a human body that can heal on its own."
Aron's breath hitched. "Then… what should I do?"
Carlos stood silently behind him, his eyes downcast.
Hakiro looked up at the sky for a moment, then spoke slowly. "It's too late to save him. Either you let him suffer like this for days… or you end his suffering now."
Aron froze, staring blankly. "No… there has to be something. Some way to fix him. Damn it, there must be something!"
He fell to his knees beside the goat, tears mixing with the dirt on his face. The world suddenly felt heavy.
Hakiro placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know it hurts, son. But this is nature — and nature can be cruel. If you let him live like this, he'll suffer endlessly until death comes by itself. The kindest thing you can do now is to let him go… peacefully. Distribute what remains, so that his life still gives something back."
He placed the goat in Aron's lap gently. The animal's head rested against Aron's chest, breathing weakly.
Aron looked at it — his hands trembling. "Is this nature?" he whispered to himself. "Was the death of my people… also nature?"
The memories flashed — burning villages, screams, the faces of people he couldn't save. His eyes filled with tears. "I have to end his suffering," he murmured. "I can't be a man who lets pain go on forever."
The sun was setting now, painting the fields gold. The wind slowed. A quiet stillness surrounded them — regret, pain, and the weight of a decision no one ever wants to make.
Aron's shadow stretched long across the earth. As the last ray of sunlight touched the goat's fur, he whispered, "Rest now, my friend… rest peacefully."
And in that moment, the summer day — once full of life — became heavy with silence.
The sun went down, saying its quiet goodbye.
And Aron, sitting in the fading light, learned that even in the beauty of life, pain often grows — and sometimes, mercy means letting go.