The Real Reason I Care

Valeria dragged Zorro outside Adante and Ed's earshot and looked at Zorro in the eye. "Why do you care about Ed so much? I've always wanted to ask you this ever since I joined the royal guard, but you two seem a little too close to be just a commander and a prince."

Zorro's serious face softened and blossomed into a small smile. He placed a hand on Valeria's shoulder. "It's not much".

Valeria looked into Zorro's eyes, and she could see it in his eyes. Genuine care for Ed poured out of them.

He looked into his eyes, and outside on the streets, they saw a small street cart selling some tasty food. The aroma of sizzling spices wafted through the air, making their mouths water. Zorro's smile widened as he looked at Valeria. "Hungry?" Zorro asked while looking at the cart.

Valeria chuckled softly, her heart warming at Zorro's gesture. "Starving, actually." She said it with the excitement of a kid.

They walked over to the street cart, drawn by the fragrant scent of the savory saffron spice skewers. The vendor, a friendly middle-aged woman, greeted them with a smile. "Welcome, young ones! Would you like to try our special Saffron Spice Skewers?"

Zorro nodded appreciatively. "Two servings, please."

As the vendor prepared their order, Zorro and Valeria leaned against the cart, still close to each other. The skewers sizzled on the grill, and the marinated chicken pieces turned a beautiful golden color.

Valeria glanced at Zorro, a hint of a smile on her lips. "You know, it's surprising. I didn't expect you to have such a soft spot for Ed."

Zorro chuckled to himself as the sweet lady held up two plates. "Two Saffron Spice Skewers, coming right up!"

The saffron spice skewers are a local dish that is very popular in Heraklion, and Zorro, being born in this city, has practically grown up eating street food like this. The moment he sank his teeth into the delicious chicken, a wave of nostalgia hit him.

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Zorro! Come back here! Mama won't ask another time! I sprinted down the bustling street, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. I could hear my mother's stern voice echoing behind me, and I knew she meant business.

I was terrified. The thought of being caught and facing the consequences sent shivers down my spine. If she got hold of me, it would mean endless lectures, strict punishments, and, worst of all, being sent back to the dreaded farms to help with the never-ending chores.

I just wanted to be free and explore the vibrant streets of Amberhelm without a care in the world. The wind rushed through my hair as I dodged through the crowd, buildings, and people blurring into a colorful whirl around me.

But my escape route led me to a dead end—an alleyway with no way out. My heart sank as I realized I was trapped. Breathing heavily, I turned around to face my mother's approaching figure. Her shadow loomed large over me, and I could feel the weight of her disappointment and anger.

"Finally cornered you!" she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of triumph and frustration with a tinge of exhaustion. I gulped, and my throat suddenly dried. There was no escaping this time. She was determined to drag me back to the family shop.

I reluctantly agreed to go along with her to not cause any more trouble, and then she put me to work for the rest of the day, doing chores and running errands for her shop. After getting water and raw materials, taking out the trash, and cleaning the plates, I did all of the odd jobs while my mom ran the rest of the shop.

My mother claimed that my dad was away working on the farms, but I never saw him in my life. At one point, I just accepted the fact that my father was a bitch and was too scared to face a reality where he had two people dependent on him.

During one particularly hot summer, her hands were red and calloused from hours of work, yet she continued to arrange the goods on the cart with a smile on her face. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, and her breath came in short, exhausted gasps. It was clear that the heat was taking its toll, but she soldiered on, pushing herself beyond her limits.

I asked her, "Why are you doing this, mom?" Take a break."

She put out a gentle smile for me, but there was a weariness in her eyes that she couldn't hide. "Oh, Zorro, don't you worry about me. We've got customers to serve, and I can't let them down."

Despite dragging that ragtag cart all around the country and moving to a new city each month, my monthly allowance was on time. Every single TIme

As I grew old enough to attend a school, she scraped together enough money to put me in the school dorms.

She did everything that she could to support me. I wanted to make her proud.

Years later, as news of the war reached my ears, my heart clenched with worry for my mother. I had joined the ranks of soldiers, and my determination to protect not only my country but also the family I held dear was fueling my every action. I received a letter from her, assuring me that she had found refuge in the small town of Thornsedge, away from the direct conflict.

I was on the opposite side of the country, and letters addressed to her usually took two weeks to get there, but they were even more delayed due to the war.

It felt like mere days had passed before the news spread through the army's ranks like wildfire. Tales of a brutal clash that reduced Thornsedge to ruins reached me, each word carving a deeper furrow of worry on my brow. My heart raced as I set out, haunted by the possibility of arriving too late.

As I made it to the edge of the town, my fears only grew as what was described as a town barely resembled one. The fighting was so intense and the destruction so total that some people would laugh if you told them there was a town here a week prior.

As I moved through the debris-filled streets, my heart dropped when I spotted the familiar cart, now crushed and broken, trapped under a heap of rubble. The remnants of the cart shop were a stark reminder of the life she had built here. Dread pooled in my stomach as I neared the cart, hoping against hope to find her nearby.

And then, amidst the chaos, I spotted a row of bodies placed in a somber line for identification. My heart stopped as I scanned the faces, my breath catching in my throat as I saw her. My mother's lifeless form lay there, her features peaceful in the midst of the tragedy that had unfolded.

Tears welled in my eyes as I fell to my knees beside her, unable to tear my gaze away from her face. The realization that I had arrived too late and that I couldn't protect her from this horrifying fate was a heavy weight on my shoulders.

After performing the final rites on her body and burying it in a memorial grave constructed outside Thornsedge, I was to return to the barracks. War doesn't end just like that, after all.

I stood before the makeshift memorial grave, a quiet wind whispering through the remnants of Thornsedge. The air was heavy with the scent of scorched earth, a reminder of the destruction that had unfolded. With each shovelful of dirt, I tried to bury not just my mother but also the guilt that gnawed at me—a relentless reminder of my inability to shield her.

As I was walking through my barracks, lost in my own world, still thinking about my mother's death, a soft and sweet voice broke the static around me.

Hey, mister, want some chwicken? I turned around to see a young boy holding the same dish my mother used to make—Friend Saffron Chicken. I hesitated for a second, but this seemed like a sign from the universe. It felt like the universe wanted to give me some food, and I took it.

As I bit into the chicken, tears welled in my eyes again, and I couldn't hold it in. Ed had a look of surprise and curiosity in his eyes, and as I knelt down to the kid's height, still savoring the chicken, he patted me on the head. "Don't be sad. He said it, his voice filled with a sense of profoundness.

"Thank you" was the only thing I was able to mutter in between sobs and gulps of the chicken, and I looked at the boy with a smile on my face. I asked, What is your name, kid?"

"Eduardo Herakles. Yours?" He asked, beaming with a smile.

"Zorro. Zorro Agathos."

Just then, the king, who was acting as the commander-in-chief, was running around the tents frantically, looking for his son.

"Dad! I made a new friend; his name is Zorro. He said this, pointing at me.

"Don't run off like that, Ed! You made me worry so much! The king blew a sigh of relief as he walked over and picked up the boy.

"Thanks for looking after him. I would have lost my marbles if this rowdy idiot had wandered outside the camp. Thank you for your service to the army and for protecting my son. He bowed to me, but I immediately pulled him back up out of respect, and we exchanged a few pleasantries.

As King Solomon eventually led Ed away, I made a silent promise to myself amidst the hubbub of the barracks.

"Eduardo Herakles, I will protect you."