CHAPTER 65: NAME

A while later, several clay basins, each a meter wide and filled with seeds soaking in water, stood in front of their bamboo house.

From the far end of the path, the village chief could be seen making his way toward the house. Wina noticed first and quickly stepped beyond the barrier to greet him, making sure the protective spell wouldn’t turn him away.

Left in the yard were two figures who weren’t quite human, working in silence. The elf crouched by the soaking seeds, while the half-druid seeing over his flourishing herb plot.

Squeekk!

A familiar squeak came from the side. Gara turned just in time to see a small white squirrel leap over the fence and scamper toward him, hopping now and then in excitement.

His hands instinctively opened to catch the fluffy creature.

The white squirrel chirped non-stop, clearly excited. He listened intently.

"Are you sure you’re okay, running here right after giving birth?" His gaze dropped to the squirrel’s now-flat belly. He gently stroked it, feeling the warmth of her fur.

"As a gift for becoming a new mama, I’ll give you the most nutritious herb I have—sweet and tasty, too."

Placing the squirrel on his shoulder, he walked to the herb plot, picked a fragrant flower, rinsed it carefully with his water, and offered it to her.

"You helped me out yesterday. No need to thank me, little white squirrel," he murmured, nuzzling his cheek against her head.

More happy chirps followed.

"You don’t want to be called ’little white squirrel’? You want a name?"

The squirrel bobbed her head eagerly. Gara held her up, examining her small body.

"White fur with a black line on forehead... big round black eyes... like an Oreo!" he chuckled at the thought. "But you’re a girl, so... Orea? O~rea? Rea?"

At that, the squirrel chirped joyfully, clearly approving her new name.

"Then from now on, your name is Rea!" Both human and squirrel giggled together—

—until he felt a gentle tug at the hem of his shirt.

When he glanced sideways, a pair of gray eyes—soft and pleading—met his gaze.

"You... what’s wrong?" he asked, completely puzzled.

The blond-haired elf, whose handsome face didn’t quite match those puppy-dog eyes, pointed at himself.

"You... want a name too?" Gara guessed wildly. Fian nodded.

But you already have a name... he thought internally. Did he forget it? Or does he just want one from me?

Still, in his mind, the elf was already ’Fian.’ And honestly, he wasn’t great at naming things.

After a long pause—Fian still holding onto his shirt—Gara finally spoke.

"You’re an elf, so... Elfie? Elfian?"

"Elfian. We’ll call you Fian for short. What do you think? Do you like it?" He hoped he didn’t sound awkward and overly forced.

Fian looked surprised at first, then nodded with a faint smile. He turned back to the basins, crouching as before.

Gara let out a relieved breath. At least those gray eyes, once empty, now showed different emotion. She turned back to Rea and continued chatting with her furry little friend.

Meanwhile, Wina finished speaking with the old man and saw him off. Then, she walked into the yard and approched Fian.

"You’ll come with me to the village hall later. We need to introduce you to the villagers so they won’t keep asking questions about who you are. The village chief and I have already prepared a story for why you’re staying with us."

Gara chimed in from the side, "Mom, his name is Fian. You should introduce him with that name."

"Fian? That’s your name?" Wina asked.

Fian nodded silently.

...

That night, Gara was left alone at home. While waiting for the two to return from the village hall, he sat under the dim glow of the lantern, scribbling down recipes for herbal medicines he had crafted.

He had made quite a few already—some based on old recipes, others from his own experiments—enhancing their effects or eliminating unwanted side effects.

There was a liquid that could numb any area it touched with just a few drops, available in varying effect’s strength.

The downside was it caused drowsiness, just like its original purpose as a form of anesthetic. Worse, the only neutralizer for its toxic component was his water; no other herb or anything could neutralize it yet.

Then there was a paste for external wounds—everything from small scratches to deep gashes where bone could be seen. It could be made without his water, though without it the paste had a sharp, overwhelming odor. For the most severe injuries, his water had to be mixed in directly to make it effective.

He had also brewed a herbal tea that eased nausea, cleared the mind, and helped banish fatigue. Truthfully, he made it to help with his own morning sickness.

As he wrote, footsteps approached outside.

Wina and Fian stepped in, but Fian looked pale as sheet.

"What happened to him, Mom?" Gara asked, worried.

Wina gave a sheepish chuckle. "The villagers were very curious about him. They kept bombarding questions at him even though the village chief had told them he couldn’t speak. They didn’t care. They just kept asking anyway."

Gara exhaled slowly. The villagers’ enthusiasm was always a bit... intense.

"The chief also announced that the Liner’s training ground project up in the mountains has been officially canceled. He admitted it was all a scam by his son and took responsibility. But not a single villager blamed him," Wina added.

That was no surprise. As village chief, Grandpa Jaya had always been wise and generous. Everyone in the village had received his help least once.

"I’m glad no one was angry. None of this was Grandpa Jaya’s fault," Gara murmured.

After chatting a while longer, Gara went back to his room. Fian had already laid out a woven mat on the floor and was lying on it.

Gara crawled into bed. "Fian, why don’t you talk? You speak to me back in town."

He hoped the elf wouldn’t just ignore him. But his question was met only with soft snoring.

Gara peeked over the edge of the bed. Once again greeted by that strikingly handsome face, peacefully asleep.

...