Chapter 12: Chapter 12 - Taming Gratitude
The edge of the common forest was near.
Ren could see in the distance, about 5 kilometers away, the first houses of the outskirts, small lights flickering in the darkness like fallen stars.
Soon he would have to face the consequences of his actions.
He paused for a moment, adjusting the backpack where he kept his obtained treasures.
How would he explain all this?
The scratches, the mud, the golden fungus, the plates, the core? Perhaps he could slip in through his window and...
A movement in the darkness made him freeze.
For a moment he thought they were frogs expelled from their territory. Dangerous, as so hungry and lacking mana they would act differently than normal.
But...
Two silhouettes moved near the forest's edge, one carrying a dim lamp. Even at this distance, he recognized the way they moved, not monsters, but his parents.
His father led the way, hoe in one hand and his mature plant ready for combat. His mother followed close behind, her own vines subtly spreading across the ground, prepared for defense.
Of course, it would have obviously revealed his path and pointed the exact way he'd gone…
The map.
As soon as they realised Ren wasn't in his room...
His father would have noticed the map's absence immediately. How many times had he seen Ren studying it, asking details about that desperate adventure in search of medicine?
It was obvious where a child who had just received the weakest spore would look for hope.
Ren watched them move in the darkness.
Despite their basic beasts, they moved with the coordination that only years of working together could give. He had seen them like this before, in the kitchen, working in perfect synchronization.
But now...
His new knowledge let him see more of it. How his father's plant extended in specific ways to detect movement, how his mother's vines created precise defensive patterns with the surrounding roots.
Even with only mature Iron-rank beasts, they had developed effective techniques.
The mushrooms in his hair glowed more intensely. He was tired, covered in mud and gray spores, but alive. And now he would have to face what was coming.
He had no choice…
He took a step toward the light.
Just one...
The yellowish glow of the mushrooms in his hair betrayed him.
"There!" his father whispered. "A frog so close to the prairie could have attacked Ren!"
The vines moved with surprising speed, and Ren felt the familiar grip of his mother's plants wrapping around him. For a moment, he considered explaining how mature Iron-rank vines had a growth pattern that...
"REN!"
His mother's cry cut through his thoughts. The vines loosened instantly.
Ren prepared for the worst. He now knew the biology of dozens of beasts, understood the most complex behavioral patterns, but had no idea how to handle what was coming.
The punishment would be severe, he knew.
He had stolen his father's precious map, had run away in the middle of the night, had...
His mother reached him first, practically knocking him over with the force of her embrace. His father arrived a second later, enveloping them both in his arms.
They were...
Crying?
"My child," his mother sobbed, squeezing him so tight he could barely breathe. "My little one..."
"We thought..." his father couldn't finish the sentence, his voice breaking.
Ren stood rigid, waiting.
At any moment the shouting would begin, the scolding, the punishment he deserved for being so reckless. He knew he deserved it. He had acted without thinking, had...
"I'm so sorry," his mother whispered through tears.
"If we had chosen to get you a better egg instead of a better school, even if you couldn't cultivate it properly..."
"We shouldn't have risked your future like this," his father added, his voice trembling. "We shouldn't have believed you would get the same plants as us with such certainty. When I got sick we should have..."
Ren blinked, confused. Were they blaming themselves?
"But I..." he tried to explain, "I was the one who ran away. Who stole the map. Who..."
His father hugged him tighter.
"We drove you to this. With our expectations, with our..."
"No!" Ren pulled back enough to look at them. "You sold everything for me, even the house. Worked so hard to get me a place in the best school, to get me an egg, any egg, and I..."
Tears began falling down his cheeks, mixing with the mud and remaining gray spores.
"I just wanted..." his voice broke, "wanted you to be proud..."
"We always have been," his mother whispered, gently cleaning his dirty face. "Always."
There was no shouting that night.
No punishments or severe scolding.
Just three people embracing under the light of the twelve moons, crying together while the mushrooms in Ren's hair glowed softly, like fallen stars.
And for the first time since the invocation ceremony, Ren understood something that no knowledge about beasts could have taught him: his parents' love was stronger than any disappointment, deeper than any failure.
It was unconditional.
♢♢♢♢
The walk back across the prairies was silent, interrupted only by his mother's small, contained sobs as she held his hand.
As if afraid he might disappear if she let go.
At home, the feast they had prepared to celebrate his invocation was still on the table, now cold.
His mother immediately began reheating it.
"It's not necessary," Ren began, but she was already in the kitchen.
"You must be hungry," she insisted, wiping away tears while she worked. "You've been outside in the night so long..."
To his own surprise, when the aroma of reheated stew filled the room, his stomach growled fiercely.
He ate as if he hadn't tasted food in days, each bite awakening a deeper hunger. His body seemed to cry out for energy, as if the transformation had awakened a voracious appetite.
"I'm so sorry, son," his father broke the silence, his voice breaking. "If we weren't so poor, if we had worked harder, if we could have gotten you a better egg..."
"We shouldn't have pressured you so much with our own worry," his mother added, serving another plate of stew that Ren immediately attacked. "You must have felt so..."
"If something had happened to you," his father interrupted, "we... couldn't... the sorrow would have..."
"Don't pressure him with emotional blackmail!" his mother scolded his father. "Can't you see he's suffered enough? Being alone in the forest so long, hiding from frogs in the mud..."
She approached Ren, stroking his dirty hair tenderly. "Would you like a hot bath, darling?"
"Forgive me," his father covered his face with his hands. "I'm useless. I couldn't even get you a decent beast. But I promise... I'll go to the forest myself. I'll find a miracle medicine, something to replace that spore or to give you a second beast like in the legends. Anything for you, son. Don't misunderstand me, I love you even if you only have that fungus, but for you I..."
"No!"
The vehemence in Ren's voice surprised everyone, even himself. He stood from the table, fresh tears in his eyes.
"Please, don't say that. Don't apologize. I... I was foolish." His voice trembled but was full of conviction. "This fungus... your gift... is the best gift in the world. I was stupid not to see it before."