After my conversation with Wilhelm, we returned to the tent to rest.Nothing significant happened after that, and the night passed by like a thief making its escape.I barely even felt it, until the warm sunlight gently woke me up.
I woke up with a feeling I hadn't experienced in a very long time: a sense of peace and freedom, as if the burden that had been weighing on my shoulders had been lifted.I was grateful for having shared everything that had been locked away in my mind with Wilhelm.I felt genuinely thankful that I had met a friend like Wilhelm, someone who could support me and share so many things with me.
We first met at the orphanage, when I was seven years old.I remember that afternoon vividly, when someone from the Holy Order—probably a Lector—came carrying a whimpering boy who couldn't stop crying.His eyes were swollen, his clothes stained with the dust of travel.He kept calling out "Mother" between his sobs.
Our caretaker tried several times to calm him down, but failed.Even when night came and all the other children had drifted off to sleep, the sound of his quiet sobs still echoed from the corner of the room.
That night, Mother told us that Wilhelm's parents and younger sister had been killed by a group of pirates who attacked the village where he had lived.She asked us to be understanding of Wilhelm's situation.
And when she said that the boy would be sharing a room with me, I could only nod weakly.
"Try to be his friend, Yohan. He needs one," she said before gently closing the door.
I didn't speak to him right away.I simply watched him from across the room.He was curled up under his blanket, his body trembling like a leaf in winter.
I let out a quiet sigh.
"Hey..." I murmured, trying to sound gentle.
"What's your name?"
There was no answer.Only soft sobbing that refused to subside.
I felt frustrated—not because he was crying, but because I didn't know what to do.I didn't know what loss felt like, because I had never even known who my own parents were.
"Can't you hear me?" I said more firmly, stepping closer.
I yanked the blanket away roughly.His eyes widened in shock, and then—
"WAA... AA... AAA!!"
His crying grew even louder.Panicking, I grabbed the blanket that had fallen onto the floor and hastily threw it back over his face, trying to muffle the sound.But it seemed like, this time, effort had betrayed result—the crying was too loud to be silenced by a thin blanket.
"H-hey! Stop it! Mother will get mad!"
"I... I want my mom... I want to go home... I hate this place..." he sobbed between his wails.
The crying wasn't just loud.It was raw.A cry that came from the deepest place in the heart.And somehow, for the first time, I felt like... I understood.
I slowly sat down on the edge of his bed.
"I don't know what it feels like to lose a mother..." I said."But I've never had one either. So... maybe we're both lonely."
His crying began to subside a little.He peeked at me from beneath the blanket, his eyes cautious.
"My name's Yohan," I said."What's yours?"
He didn't answer right away.But after a few seconds, between the leftover sniffles...
"Wilhelm..."
I gave a small smile.
"Well then, Wilhelm... would you let me be your friend?"
For the first time that night, he nodded softly.His sobbing hadn't completely stopped, but there was a faint light returning to his eyes.
That night, after his crying had calmed, we didn't go straight to sleep.I opened the window and gazed outside, letting the cold air wash over me.
"You know? I always do this whenever I feel sad, or when I'm upset after fighting with the other kids.When I start looking at the thousands of stars, somehow... I start forgetting all about it," I said while staring at the night sky.
"But sometimes Mother suddenly barges into the room and scolds me for staying up late just to stare at the stars, hahaha."
Suddenly... Wilhelm walked over and stood beside me, looking outside.Then, slowly, he began to speak—his voice soft, almost as if he were talking to himself.
"I lived in a small village... south of Eltheria. Near the Brivelle border.It was a quiet village... very peaceful.We had vegetable fields and herds of sheep."
I looked at him.He lowered his head, gripping the edge of the blanket draped over his shoulders.
"I used to help Mother in the garden.She always said I had gentle hands...She told me to care for each plant like I would someone I loved, so that the plants could be happy.""My father was a shepherd. Big, strong, always full of energy.Every evening he would come home carrying bundles of wild grass and the scent of the sun.Even though he must have been tired, he always smiled and stayed cheerful when he was with us."
Wilhelm smiled faintly.But that smile was like a cracked, fragile window.
"My mother... she was the most beautiful woman in the world.I always told her, 'When I grow up, I want to marry someone just like you.'She would always laugh whenever I said that."
"And my little sister... Lucy... she had just learned how to walk.Every time she fell, she would laugh instead of cry. Funny, isn't it?" Wilhelm said with a heavy smile.
I found myself smiling too, imagining that family like a warm painting framed in memory.For a moment, I could almost feel what it might have been like to have a family.
But then his voice changed.It was the sound of someone about to jump off the edge of a cliff.
"One day, Father asked me to go herding with him.'Son, come with me. You need to learn to be a great shepherd like your old man,' he said proudly."
"But I said... 'I want to stay home with Mom.'"
"Father insisted. 'You need to learn how to be a man,' he said."
"Mother then came over and gently persuaded me, 'Wilhelm, go with your father. I'll stay home with Lucy and bake your favorite berry pie.'She stroked my face and smiled."
Wilhelm fell silent for a moment, staring at the empty floor.
"And that... was the last time I ever saw my mother's smile."
"In the evening... as Father and I returned, we reached the eastern hill, from where we could see the village."
"I saw smoke... fire... houses burning... and our dogs barking in terror."
His hands clenched into fists.
"Father immediately scooped me up and ran.I didn't understand why, but deep down... I knew something was wrong."
"When we reached our house... blood was flowing from beneath the door."
"And... and I heard Mother's voice... crying."
Wilhelm turned to me, his eyes now brimming with tears.
"Father kicked down the door.And... I saw Mother... she... she wasn't wearing any clothes, her hair a mess.Three men were standing around her... their faces hidden."
"I didn't understand what was happening... but I knew Mother was... in terrible pain."
"When Mother saw us, she screamed: 'Honey... take Wilhelm... get our son out of here!'"
"Father froze.He asked, 'Where's Lucy?'"
"But before Mother could answer, one of the men turned toward us and said... 'Who's Lucy?'"
"Then another man bent down... picked something up from the floor..."
Wilhelm stopped.His breath caught.I could feel the terror in his eyes.
"I saw it...He... lifted Lucy's head.Only her head.Without her body."
"After that... I don't remember anything else..."
"When I woke up, I was already on a horse-drawn carriage of the Eltherian soldiers.My eyes were wet from tears that wouldn't stop falling.For a moment, I wished it had all been just a dream..."
"But someone from the soldiers reluctantly told me... that I was the only survivor from that cursed village."
That night, I truly felt the pain and sorrow Wilhelm carried.And on that very night, our friendship began.Who would have thought that the crybaby who could do nothing but weep back then would grow into the friend who became even stronger than I was—with a resolve I could have never imagined.