CHAPTER 12: Starfrost

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Daisuke suddenly stopped in his tracks.

From where he stood, he noted that his house was shrouded in darkness, and to make the scene even more ominous, he spied a flicker of movement—a swift shadow retreating from the front entrance of the house.

Daisuke dropped his sack. The fruits and vegetables inside scattered on the ground. His stomach twisted with dread as he bolted toward the house and charged into the bedroom.

Moonlight suffused the cold chamber from the open window. His mother was on the bed, her features bathed in its soft light. And she was breathing.

Still very concerned for her well-being, he hurried to her side, his footsteps quick and anxious. Suddenly a soft, telltale crunch echoed under his shoe, causing him to halt. Bending down, he inspected the source of the sound, revealing a small, rectangular vial with a rounded bottom. A hint of purple liquid clung to the interior, marking its ominous nature—a color often associated with poison.

"..."

Daisuke's heart fell into a state of wild palpitations, panic gripping him as he turned his attention back to his mother. Her cheeks were flushed and her breaths, labored.

Gently, he reached out, brushing her forehead to gauge her fever. Her skin was warm to the touch, and unyielding lines of worry creased his forehead at that realization.

She's burning up! he thought, a sense of helplessness gnawing at him. "Hang in there! I'll fetch some water!"

Before he could make a move, his mother's frail hand gripped his, her fingers weakly coiling around his wrist.

Her voice, though faint, carried a sense of urgency as she panted, "It's too late."

Daisuke's heart sank at her words. He saw the struggle in her eyes, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon them both.

"I don't have much time left," she whispered, her voice a fragile thread. "...Come closer."

In that moment, time seemed to stand still, and Daisuke bit his lip in anguish. In video games, he always made it his point of duty to have «antidotes and other «potions» stocked in his «inventory». But, in this world, the power of a player had somehow eluded him.

Why? Why was this happening, again?

Daisuke held his mother's hand, his fingers intertwining with hers as they faced an inevitable farewell, the reality of the situation hanging heavy in the air.

"I'm... so sorry... for being so stubborn and stuck in my ways," she whispered repentantly. "I'm sorry... I couldn't... give you the life you deserved."

Daisuke frowned with a dejected smile. "Why are you speaking in the past tense? I'll definitely figure something out; we'll make it past this and work together to turn our lives around."

The woman gave a wanly smile. "Is there anything... you would like to ask me?"

Daisuke's eyes widened. He was taken by surprise by the unexpected question, but he knew exactly what to say. "...What's your name?"

"Evandria... Evandria Starfrost," she confessed with a light titter, and then a cough.

"Mom!"

"I'm...I'm fine," she managed, her voice weak. "But I thought... you would ask a more personal question. Though... I suppose it's better if my past... fades away along with me. Delving into it... would only cause more harm than good."

Letting go of his wrist, she gently placed her hand atop his, her eyes softening with affection. Daisuke's eyes widened in contrast, because standing on the other side of the bed now—in what looked like a surreal projection—was his biological mother and father. They held each other's hands, their expressions filled with empathy and compassion.

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