I smelled the familiar scent of wood and earth—something I had longed for.

“Mommy, I’m here.”

I looked up to see a woman smiling warmly. Her green eyes were clear and calm, her silver hair shiny like moonlight. Her smile felt like a gentle spring breeze. She was someone I missed so much, but who wasn’t in this world anymore.

“Mommy…”

A voice like a three-year-old’s escaped me. I lowered my head and saw my scraped knee—it hurt so much, and I burst into tears. Tears fell like beads onto the red scrape from falling onto the dirt.

“It’s okay, Irine. Mommy will make it all better. Don’t cry, sweetie. Don’t worry.”

She wiped my tears and reassured me, rubbing on homemade herbal cream.
“Let all the pain go away!” she said, smiling.

When she said her words, all the pain disappeared. I always chanted along:
“Let all the pain go away!”

“That’s right—good job!”

Mommy hugged me and praised me.
“Does it still hurt?”

“No!”

I smiled and hugged her back.
“Mommy made all the pain go away!”

The little me was smiling. But I felt tears in my eyes, thinking about someone I deeply missed. I wanted to hold Mommy and shout, “Don’t go, stay with me.” But only my little laugh came out.

“Irine!”

I woke up as a cold drop touched my cheek. Edmund was holding me and looking down, moonlight on his face. He had come running when he heard me struggling in my sleep.

“Are you okay? You looked unwell, so I woke you.”

I realized it had been a dream—a dream about my mother, who I missed so much.

“Ah…”

I sighed. After dreaming of her, I always felt sad I didn’t say what I wanted.

Edmund looked more worried as he watched me. I straightened my voice.

“I’m okay, Edmund.”
But he frowned, putting his hand to my cheek.

“You’re sweating—get some water and a towel. Stay in bed.”

He tried to go get a towel, but I grabbed his sleeve.

“I’m fine—you don’t need to do that…”

“You do need it. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Come on, it’s just a towel—”

He shook his head seriously.

“My healing powers only fix physical wounds. I can’t heal a cold.”

He carefully held my hand in both of his and leaned in.

“Ir, if you said you wouldn’t catch a cold and then did, I’m going to—”

Suddenly, he kissed my forehead—quick and soft. I stood frozen for a moment. He smiled playfully and said:

“As a penalty: five million more forehead kisses, just like that one.”

I blinked—how ridiculous!

“Five million?” I protested.

He grinned and tapped his lip.

“And if you still stop me from getting a towel? Next time it might be a kiss on the lips instead.”

He was being sly, fox-like. I barely let him go.

I turned and noticed the golden nameplates on the cabinet, moonlight shining on them: “Irine Nayander” and “Edmund Wolfgang.”

I stared until Edmund came back with the towel and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“It’s real—you really got it.”

He handed me my nameplate—it felt solid and real.

“It’s not a dream.”

“Yeah. You did it.”

I, too, smiled and carefully set the nameplate back.

“Let me wipe your sweat.”

I smiled back at him with the towel.

“Edmund, should I wipe your sweat instead?”

“Not unless you want five million kisses.”

He teased as he gently wiped my cheek and arms.

“So… does that mean you liked the kiss?” he asked softly.

“Not—no, five million’s too much!”

He just laughed, touching my lips.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

I didn’t protest—if I truly hated it, I would’ve stopped it. And something fluttered in my chest—I couldn’t deny it helped feel better.

“Alright, one more,” he said, and another gentle kiss landed on my cheek.

“You’re so unfair,” I said, frowning.
“Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?”

He laughed. How could I resist when he looked this handsome?

“All done.”

He brushed my hair back.
“My love, do you feel a bit better?”

I nodded, and he tucked the blanket around me.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He hesitated, then asked quietly:
“Irine, did you dream of your mother?”

I was touched by how cautious he was. I answered honestly.

“I… don’t mind that you asked. And yes, I dreamed of her.”

He nodded.

“You called out ‘Mommy’ and were crying—it worried me.”

He sounded a bit guilty.

“I hope I didn’t disturb you from seeing her in the dream,” he said softly.

“No, not at all. I wish I could see her more in my dreams, but I’m not running from reality.”

He gave me a warm look.

“You’re someone who keeps moving forward.”
That meant so much—especially after being told I was half-baked and worthless.

“And one more thing,” he continued.

“Mom must have been a wonderful person.”

I was surprised. He looked at me with genuine care.

“Thank you,” I said, and smiled wide—just like the day I became a Golden Named.

He smiled back with me.

We talked for a long time until just before sunrise. Then we drifted to sleep. As morning light crept in, a woman in a white robe appeared silently beside us. She had deep violet eyes. She looked at me sleeping peacefully in Edmund’s arms, her expression soft.

“So you’ve found someone who cherishes you,” she whispered, placing her hand gently on my forehead. Sunlight brightened her, and she slowly faded away.

She seemed to go toward the western temple, maybe to meet others there.

“Did you hear?” one priest said. “Our region’s two Golden Named winners just got the honor.”

“It’s been a while since we had that,” another answered.

“They say the temple was packed for the ceremony,” the first priest said.

They prayed quietly, unaware of the woman who watched them from the corner.

“I hope a guardian appears soon,” one whispered.

The woman, with silver hair and violet eyes like mine, closed her eyes and imagined me.
“Soon, my child,” she whispered.

Then—boom.

“What—was that?” the priests gasped.