Yun | Walk Home | Mom

As I was exiting I turned down the offered escort and didn’t wait for my uncle’s coach. I just wanted to walk.

It was darker now—properly night—and even in the heart of the capital, the stars were visible. Clear skies, quiet streets, and just enough light to see by. I found myself thinking of that night in the woods. When the night-wolf came for us.

If I’d been as strong then as I am now… could I have saved Minah?

She hasn’t written back. Not once.

Itzel sends letters sometimes. Says they’re doing well.

Minah said she didn’t blame me. But the ache in my chest doesn’t go away when I remember that moment. The fear. The cold. The sound of teeth and screaming.

And now, the chill was starting to cut through my clothes again.

I can’t forget.

***

For the second time in less than a year, I made my aunt cry.

The door hadn’t even fully closed behind me when I heard her footsteps pounding down the stairs. She stopped short at the sight of me—dusty, bruised, the back of my jacket burned through.

“Yun, what happened?”

“It’s nothing,” I said, brushing past her. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she snapped. Her voice trembled—part anger, part fear.

Slightly agitated, I said, “There was an accident at the party. A spell misfired. Nobody got hurt.”

She looked me over again, eyes narrowing. “How can you say that looking like that?”

She waved a maid over. “Get him cleaned up, now.”

As I followed the maid down the hall, my aunt came with us, still asking a dozen questions.

“Did anyone help you? Did you even see a healer at the estate? Yun—how did this happen?”

Fed up, I blurted, “MOM, I SAID I WAS FINE!”

She stopped walking.

“What… what did you just call me?”

I turned, confused. “Huh?”

She stared at me, eyes wide. Then they filled with tears.

And I felt it hit—heavy and quiet. My throat closed up. My chest burned. I hadn’t meant to say it.

Mom.

But I had.

And before I could stop it, I was crying too.

Later that night, my aunt told me some stories about my mother. She’d only met her a few times after marrying into the Daisar family, but said she never forgot the impression she left. Things between my mother, my uncle, and my grandparents had always been complicated.

There’d been a falling out—my mother rejected the life they planned for her and walked away. She began volunteering at a local shrine, caring for the sick and feeding those in need. That’s where she met my father. He wasn’t a noble, just a quiet man from Tamuri with steady hands and a kind heart. She followed him back to his village, and not long after, they were married.

My father was conscripted a few years ago. We haven’t seen or heard from him since.

That night, my aunt pulled me close. Nothing could ever replace my mother—but in that moment, I knew my aunt cared for me. And that was enough.