The stew bubbled gently in the clay pot as Leon stirred in the last of the ant mushrooms. It was the same recipe he'd made weeks earlier, when Eldrin had first told him about the white light and the lost name. He'd hunted another grouse that morning, its meat tender and juicy, and he'd portioned out the best pieces, just like before.
"I'll take this to Master Eldrin," Leon told Isabella. "Meet me at the square later."
He walked slowly, the pot warm in his hands. The forest was quiet, birds singing softly, but Leon's mind was racing. Eldrin had seemed worse the last few days—weaker, quieter, his cough growing worse. He'd tried to ask about the herbs in the cloth bag, but Eldrin had brushed him off.
When he reached the cottage, the yard was empty. Leon frowned, knocking on the door. "Master? It's Leon—I brought stew."
No answer. He pushed the door open, his heart sinking. Eldrin was lying on his bed, his eyes closed, his face as pale as parchment. "Master!" Leon rushed over, setting the pot down. He shook Eldrin's shoulder gently. "Wake up. I brought your favorite."
Eldrin's eyes fluttered open, his gaze unfocused. "Leon… you're here." His voice was barely a whisper.
"You're sick," Leon said, reaching for Eldrin's hand. It was cold. "Let me get my herbs—maybe mountain ginseng will help."
Eldrin shook his head, squeezing Leon's hand. "No. It's not sickness. It's time."
Leon's eyes stung. "Don't say that. You'll get better. We're moving to the town soon—you can come with us."
"I can't," Eldrin said. He took a shaky breath. "Listen to me. There's something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you long ago."
He spoke slowly, his voice fading in and out. He told Leon about the adventure小队 (adventure party), the ancient ruin deep in the Whispering Forest, the chamber with glowing walls. He told him about the white light that had swallowed his friends, about waking up alone, about returning to the village to find no one remembered his name—not even the people he'd known for years. "Magic," he whispered. "That's the only explanation. It erased me, Leon. Made me a ghost."
Leon's tears fell, dripping onto their clasped hands. "Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because I have no one else," Eldrin said. "No family, no friends who remember me. You're my apprentice—my son, in all the ways that matter. I want you to have this." He nodded toward the bookshelf. "The far right corner, behind the jar of wolfroot. There's a hidden compartment. Inside, twenty gold coins. It's all I have."
Leon shook his head. "I don't want your gold. I want you to get better."
"Take it," Eldrin insisted. "Use it to buy books, to build your bakery, to travel. And Leon—if you ever learn magic… if you ever get the chance… go to that ruin. Find out what happened to my friends. Bring them home, if you can. But promise me—promise me you'll put your safety first. Don't be foolish, like I was."
"I promise," Leon said.
"Good," Eldrin said, a faint smile on his lips. "And one more thing. When I die… burn me. Cremate me. If my name is gone, let my body be gone too. Let me join my friends in the light."
"I will," Leon said.
Eldrin's breathing grew shallow. "You'll be a great healer, Leon. Greater than me. Don't stay in the town. Don't stay in the capital. See the world. Learn. Grow." He reached up, his hand brushing Leon's cheek. "I'm proud of you."
His hand fell, his eyes closing for the last time. Leon sat there, holding Eldrin's cold hand, tears pouring down his face. He didn't know how long he stayed, until he heard a knock at the door.
Erika and Garin stood in the doorway, their faces somber. They'd noticed Leon was gone too long, had come to check. Leon looked up, his voice broken. "He's gone."
They buried Eldrin three days later, but Leon kept his promise. That night, he built a fire in the forest, carefully placing Eldrin's body on it. He stood and watched until there was nothing left but ash, then scattered the ash into the wind.
The next day, he found the hidden compartment behind the wolfroot jar. Inside was a leather pouch filled with gold coins, and a small, worn notebook. Leon opened it—its pages were filled with sketches of herbs, notes about the ruin, and a list of names: Kael, Mara, Tomas. His friends.
Leon closed the notebook, tucking it into his cloak. He looked around Eldrin's empty cottage, then turned toward the village. Garin was right—Acorn Village was too small. But before he went to the town, before he went to the capital, he would keep his promise. He would find the ruin. He would honor Eldrin's memory.
As he walked back home, the sun shining down, Leon felt a quiet resolve. He was ten years old, but he was no longer a child. He was a healer, a survivor, a keeper of secrets. And he was ready to face whatever came next.