The year 909, the start of the warring period in all five states. A younger Eshikel was playing in the woods. Just like how other children look at the world, his eyes had a lens of curiosity. He was and had always been observing the things around him. Every leaf was just as interesting as the one he saw yesterday. Whether it was a newly bud leaf or a browning one, all were shown with the same fascination that he poured on to other things. It was his hobby, a job even, to spend the day exploring this mysterious hunk of green mountain. Sometimes he would look unto the setting sun and wonder what's beyond. Today, however, was different. It was the first full moon of this year's spring. The village of Mumadon was getting ready for a feast. The season's harvests were abundant and they plan to thank Mother Vita, the Goddess of life.

Eshikel was watching a caterpillar snack through the leaves when a familiar voice echoed in the forest bed.

"Eshikel! Eshikel!"

Mother is calling. I should go back

He sprinted all the way back home, enjoying the feeling of the fresh wind. Dusk was coming and the fragrance of the Nightviolets was starting to spread, attracting the crickets into its carnivorous mouth.

"Eshikel!" another shout was heard.

"Coming Ma!"

He passed through the forest until he got out into a clearing. There he saw the familiar scene of his village. He had seen it almost a hundred times. The bamboo shacks that made up the majority of the village, the busy market square full of stalls with vendors, and of course their very own house. All of this enclosed in a wooden fence that keeps the wolves away. The sight wouldn't be complete without the figure of Ma yelling at their front door.

Little did young Eshikel knew that this would become one of his most treasured memories. For one never truly realizes the value of something once lost.

He ran up to his home. Later on, after the sun sets, they would go into the bonfire set up near the village plains. There everyone would start dancing the Ikling, a two partnered dance in honor of Mother Vita. He was still too young to participate for he has only survived 7 winters. "To be old enough is to learn how to hunt", as old man Juri would've said.

The thing is, he doesn't want to hunt. He would rather be a farmer, like his Da. There's a difference between a jumping rabbit and a dead one. He had to learn that the gruesome way. One time, he was sneaking up on a rabbit. it looked for something to eat, oblivious that it was being followed. An hour passed and he found himself hiding in a bush. Suddenly, a black wolf pounced on the rabbit. It locked its jaw on the rabbit's neck, shaking it violently. It fought back, struggling to escape but to no avail. Eshikel watched the rabbit slowly go limp. He saw the very moment life left the rabbit's eyes. And that terrified him. Even more so, to be the one that cuts that fragile thread of life.

Of course, he hasn't told anyone that experience except for his parents, in fear that they would think he's a coward. He's already being teased by the Manroy brothers, giving them another reason wouldn't help.

"By the true Gods, I told you to stay clean!" his mother bellowed to him.

"Its just dirt Ma, I'll wash my face later."

"Eat first! Here dinner's almost ready. Da's getting some carrots for the broth."

Eshikel removed his sandals and wiped his feet with a wet cloth. A clean home is a happy home, as his mom taught him. Even inside, the cool air circulates through the gaps of the bamboo hut. The village, after all, prided themselves with their bamboo craftsmanship.

He picked up the red cloth and made the table. Finally, after waiting for some time, Eshikel's father came. He brought with him his vegetables that were harvested today. They ate conservatively, saving space for the festival foods that will be shared later.

"Da, are you dancing again tonight?"

"No, I'll be tending the fire. Why?"

Eshikel chewed his food and thoughts slowly, carefully choosing his next words.

"Well if you're not there then who will Ma dance with?"

Yohan smiled, recognizing the intent of his sly child.

"Hmmm, who could possibly replace me? I'm sure your mother would be lonely," Yohan looked at Mirna

"I could do it!" Eshikel blurted, clearly excited.

"Do you know how?"

"Of course! I always watch you do it."

"Then show me how."

Eshikel stopped eating and suddenly stood up. He then performed his version of the Ikling. He was mimicking the motion of a farmer tilling the soil all while following the imaginary Six stringed Kurdau playing inside his head.

"Not bad, but I think I ought to teach my son how to do a decent one. Mind joining me Mirna?"

Soon enough, Yohan and Mirna joined him in the dance until the broth that they so much wanted, cooled down.