The Flower Is Finished

Farrel continued talking about what he had experienced while I was gone, and every now and then he chuckled when recalling his own foolishness.

"I only learned the technique after you left yesterday, and now I'm already able to sense what you're feeling."

"Didn't you smell something strange?" he asked, and I nodded.

"I know you may be suspicious of me, but after looking into it, I found this."

He immediately took something from his pocket—a small bottle.

"When I smelled it, I felt nothing. It didn't have any strong scent. But when you hold it for a while, your head starts to feel dizzy, doesn't it?"

I quickly grabbed the bottle and inhaled it.

This scent… it feels so real, and I remember it clearly.

"Where did you find it?" I asked tensely, staring at Farrel while he glanced around.

"After you told me about it, I tried searching for the source, but I still couldn't find the cause."

"When you left, I sensed someone entering our space. So I set a trap, and sure enough, I saw this perfume bottle under your bed," he paused.

"I can't smell it, but I believe this is the cause."

The moment I inhaled it again, a sudden pain struck my head. It wasn't strong enough to make me dizzy, but I recognized it—this was what caused my headaches.

What is their purpose? To weaken me?

The question echoed in my head, but I decided not to say it out loud to Farrel.

"What happened after I left the kingdom?" I asked, and he let out a harsh breath.

"There were a few rebels, but the King managed to hold them off. I believe they were possessed by demons."

"You know how aggressively they behaved—it overwhelmed us," he said in a serious tone.

I stayed silent, then told Farrel to get some rest.

"What happened to you during that time?" he asked suddenly, causing the image of Lira and Michelle to flash through my mind.

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

Then I urged him to go to bed.

---

Inside the dream

The forest felt suffocating. I had no idea who the figure in front of me was. Small in body, crying loudly. My legs were heavy, unable to move, and my eyes were fixed on the baby lying before me.

Rain poured relentlessly over the forest, and then I saw a middle-aged woman dressed in a kebaya. She was carrying firewood on her back and holding a basket filled with things I couldn't identify. The baby kept crying, and then I realized… it was Grandmother Wilona.

"Is that her when she was young?" I whispered. She approached me—and passed straight through my body.

"Whose baby is this?" she asked, lifting the child without caring about the basket in her hand.

"Why are you in the forest?"

"This is heavy rain—where is your mother?" she asked, trying to calm the baby, but he kept crying even louder.

"Oh dear, in this rain… come, let's go home."

Without considering her own struggles, she dropped the wood around her waist and began carrying the baby along with the firewood and basket she had gathered.

Even though it was midnight, she was still searching for food. I followed her wherever she went.

Upon reaching the village, she immediately approached the village chief. She kept trying to soothe the baby, but he wouldn't calm down, and a conversation followed—one I couldn't understand.

"Whose baby is this, Wilona?" asked the village chief's wife, who appeared to be the same age as Wilona.

"Sari, I found him in the forest. I'll explain later. Is there someone here who's still nursing?" she asked anxiously.

Sari instantly remembered someone.

"Yes, there is. Let's go to her house."

Despite the rain pouring over the village, they continued their way.

They reached an old, worn-down house. Sari impatiently opened the door. The sound of a small child came from inside.

"Is anyone here?" the village chief's wife called out. A voice responded from within.

"Yes. Who is it?"

"It's me, the village chief. May we come in?"

The baby's crying blended with the sound of the wind and rain. There was a faint rustling noise from inside.

"Oh—village chief? Grandmother Wilona? What's happening?"

"Whose baby is this?" she asked, startled as she looked at the child.

"Could you nurse him for a moment?" the village chief asked loudly, trying to be heard over the rain.

"I… I—" she stuttered, glancing inside to ensure no one else would hear.

"I'm willing, but the situation isn't ideal," she said softly, though I could still hear her.

"Please save him and feed him. I'll repay all your kindness," Grandmother Wilona pleaded, kneeling in the rain-soaked ground.

"Please stand up. I don't feel comfortable seeing you like this," the woman said gently, helping her to her feet.

"I need to ask first—whose baby is this?"

But without waiting for an answer, she took the child from the village chief and nursed him without hesitation.

"Wilona, stand. I will feed him and help him."

Surrendering, Wilona stood.

"Come inside first."

They all entered the house, and I looked around.

Is this Farrel's house? And is that his mother?

I saw a little girl crying in her older sibling's arms—Shasha.

"Are you short on food?" Grandmother Wilona asked with concern. The woman hesitated before nodding.

"Sari, please look after this child. I will return home to fetch some food."

Then she rushed out of Farrel's house.

I continued to follow her. When she reached her home, she opened the door without caring about her condition. The dim lighting caused her to stumble several times, but she kept moving.

I didn't know what she was searching for at first, but she grabbed some cassava and sweet potatoes, placing them in a basket. She added some fruit, then took rice and corn. For the first time, I looked at her with deep sorrow—as she stared at the rice, likely her very last supply.

"No… I must give this to that baby. Perhaps this way, her milk will flow properly, and the baby will be able to drink more," she whispered.

Then she took all the remaining food from her home and brought it back to Farrel's house.

She hurried inside and handed everything to Farrel's mother. Everyone in the house was stunned by how much she had done for the baby.

"What is all this, Grandma?" the woman asked softly as she looked at the basket full of food. The baby now slept peacefully in her arms, and Farrel seemed to be asleep as well. I gazed at Farrel's home with deep sorrow.

How could I have ever suspected her?

"Please eat. I will look for more later. Raise him well, as if he were your own child."

"Grandmother Wilona, this is too much. I can't take all of it," she said, trying to refuse.

"No, I truly give this to you wholeheartedly," Wilona replied, her voice weighted with sincerity. I bit my lip to keep myself from crying at the kindness she had shown me.

"I will give him my milk, but you don't need to trouble yourself by bringing all of this," the woman responded gently.

Grandmother Wilona then turned to the little girl staring at the basket.

"Shasha… come here."

Shasha approached hesitantly, glancing at her mother for approval.

"It's alright, don't be afraid. They'll give this to you," her mother reass

ured her.

And with that, Shasha stepped closer to Grandmother Wilona, ignoring her mother's earlier warning.

---

End of dream POV