Lara caught the man’s wrist with an unbelievable speed, her grip tightening like an iron vice. The man howled in pain as the knife clattered to the ground. His breath came in ragged gasps, his eyes wide with panic.
The boy darted forward, scooping up the weapon and quickly handing it to Lara. But in that fleeting moment of distraction, the man seized his chance—bolting into the crowd, his figure disappearing into a narrow alley.
Lara let him go. Chasing him would only invite more trouble. It was already getting late.
She looked at the two children with guilty eyes. She thought they betrayed her, but she was wrong.
With a steadying breath, she refocused on her task. She bought ten kilos of rice and wheat, a dozen eggs, and two loaves of bread. The market stalls were clustered close together, making her errands swift.
At a nearby pharmacy, she bought fever medicine and remedies for wounds and colds. The medicines were simple herbal concoctions wrapped in small cloth sachets with drawstrings—an old-world remedy but effective. She purchased plenty to replenish her supplies and left some for the Lenard siblings.
Once they had finished shopping, they exited the bustling market, where they found Barett and the bull cart owner waiting.
The three climbed aboard, and as the oxen trudged forward, the boy pointed toward a shortcut leading to the temple.
"By the way, what are your names?" Lara asked as she studied the faces of the two children across her. She noticed that their facial features were beautiful. If not for the dirt that covered their faces and the rugs on their bodies, they might look like child celebrities in the modern era. They also looked similar, so Lara had deduced that they were twins.
"I am Omega, and he is Alpha," the girl answered without hesitation.
What was it with the people she met and their obsession with names?
The journey passed quickly, and soon, they arrived at a dilapidated house behind the temple. The walls were fashioned from thin bamboo poles, and the thatched straw roof sagged under years of wear.
Before the cart stopped, Alpha and Omega leaped down and rushed to the door, pushing it open with urgency.
"Grandpa!" Their voices carried worry.
Lara followed them inside. The moment she stepped over the threshold, her gaze landed on an old man lying motionless on a narrow bamboo bed.
She hurried to his side and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. It burned with fever.
"Alpha, bring me water," she instructed.
The boy quickly fetched a mug from a nearby jar, handing it to her with shaking hands.
"Do you know how to cook porridge? Your grandfather needs something warm and easy to digest."
Alpha nodded, grabbing the basket of supplies. He pulled out a small sack of rice, while Omega, without needing instruction, headed to the small kitchen at the corner and started kindling a fire.
Lara turned back to the old man, her voice gentle as she tried to rouse him. "Grandpa."
The old man’s eyelids fluttered open at the unfamiliar voice, and his cloudy eyes struggled to focus on her face.
She helped him sit up, letting his frail frame lean against the wall for support. The bed had no headrest, just rigid bamboo slats.
"Please open your mouth and take this pill," she said, holding out a small tablet. "It will help reduce your fever."
The old man’s nostrils flared as he caught the scent. A flicker of recognition crossed his face before he parted his lips, swallowing the pill with Lara’s help.
He barely managed a few sips of water before exhaustion pulled him back into sleep.
Lara scanned the small house. It was sparse—just two tiny beds, no table, no chairs. Survival was a daily struggle here.
"You two, eat this bread first," she said, taking a loaf from the basket. "The porridge will take some time to cook."
"Sir, thank you so much for your generosity. If we have the chance, we will repay you in the future." Alpha bowed slightly as he accepted the bread.
Lara chuckled inwardly at the mistaken identity but let it slide.
Alpha tore off a large chunk and handed it to his sister. Omega hesitated.
"Brother, this is too much. Let’s save some for tomorrow," she murmured.
Lara’s heart clenched at the sight.
"You should finish that," she said softly. "There’s more. Bread won’t last long anyway."
Reluctantly, Omega took a bite.
As the porridge simmered, Lara explained how to brew the medicine, though she was surprised when Alpha confidently replied, "We already know. Grandpa taught us."
The sun had started it’s slow descent to the horizon.
"It’s getting late. We should head back," Lara said, brushing off her pants. "The village is still a bit far. Once the porridge is ready, make sure your grandpa eats and takes another dose of medicine. He should recover soon."
She took fifty coins from her pocket and handed it to Alpha.
"Keep this safe. This is to nurse your grandpa back to health."
Apha’s eyes reddened as he accepted the coins. He took a pouch hidden under one of the bed’s legs, carefully placed the coins inside, and put it back.
What a good place to hide the coins.
Lara was about to open the door when a weak voice called behind her.
Turning back, she found the old man struggling to sit up, his frail body trembling from the effort. He had to be in his mid-sixties.
Lara quickly returned to his bedside, steadying him.
"The pill you gave me earlier," he rasped, his eyes searching hers. "Where did you get it?"
Lara tilted her head. "Oh, that? My master taught me how to make it."
The old man’s expression shifted. His cloudy eyes suddenly seemed sharper and clearer.
"What is your master’s name?" His voice carried an edge of urgency.
Lara frowned. Why was he so interested? Was there something special about the pill?
"My master’s name is Jethru."
The old man stiffened.
"I knew it!" he exclaimed, but his excitement triggered a fit of labored coughing.