JAMILLAH

The sound of a painful cry tore the silence of the night inside Jamillah's cabin when the man she's taking care of suddenly woke up in the middle of the dead night, holding his head.

"Shhh, it's okay...it's okay."

The tall woman hugged the man tightly to her chest to comfort him and patted his head gently as a way to calm him down. She also stroked his hair repeatedly like he's a spoiled child and whispered words of comfort over and over again.

Born as one of those few people gifted to see mana and freely control it, Jamillah is always on the run for her dear life to escape from the people who want to monopolize her ability and it's been ten years since she started living inside the Rosmerta Forest, alone.

There, she made her own cabin, dug her own garden, planted her own herbs, searched for her own food and lived freely from the eyes of anyone. Once in a while, she goes down to the town to buy necessities that can't be made with her own effort like fabric for her clothes and shoes and metal objects and kerosene and other medicine that she can't create with her herbs.

It was during those occasional trips when she found the man collapsed on the foot of a blackthorn tree with lots of dried blood in his torn up clothes.

She took him in her small house with the use of flight magic and cured his wounds. Blushing on the sight of nude man in front of him, she gently cleaned his wounds with a damp towel and spread ointment made from grounded marybud mixed with a small amount of nightshade on his open cuts to let it heal faster.

"Mister?," she called to him when he moaned from the pain he's feeling on his whole body but he did not answer. He's not fully awake yet to recognize the lovely woman that's treating his wounds for him.

And like that, her night passed like a battlefield. She tried her best to help him in every way she can, sacrificing her sleep to cater to the man that's burning up from high fever, constantly changing his sheets that's getting damp with sweat and smell of medicine and dripping small amounts of warm water from boiled vegetables to replenish his health.

And the winds blew farther to the west. And before she knew it, a week had gone by and it became a routine for her to take care of the injured person in her house.

She's back from weeding out her garden that morning when she's greeted by an unfamiliar sight in her bedroom. The man isn't lying on his back anymore, he's sitting like a dignified person with his face facing the opened window on his right, away from the door where Jamillah was standing. She already guessed that he'll look something like that based on how firm his muscles were when she's wiping his body, but seeing firsthand is a different case.

"Mister?," she called to him after putting down the bunch of flowers of yellow marybud on the table placed near the door.

The man looked at him and immediately, his hard gaze outside, earlier, softened when he saw Jamillah's face.

"Wife," he said and smiled. He tried to stand up from the bed and failed, which made Jamillah run to him in panic that his body can't support too much strength right now.

"Careful!," she shouted when she saw him stumble as he tried to act like he's fine.

He laughed it off and assured her that he's fine. Jamillah, on the other hand, did not buy his assurance and pushed him back to the bed, placing several pillows on his back so he'll be slightly elevated.

"Wife..." he called to him again when Jamillah's about to leave.

"I am not your wife." She sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose. "Stay still. I'll cook something for you, let's talk later and..." she paused before speaking again. "I am not your wife."

She quickly left and headed straight to her kitchen. She took a pot and started boiling rice on it to make a porridge. While waiting for the rice to cook, she chopped fresh vegetables to put in it and squeezed citrus fruits in a pitcher.

It did not take him an hour to finish preparing a healthy meal for the man. After she put the cooked porridge in a bowl, she served it to him with the refreshment she made.

"Do you like this or not?," she asked, holding the glass of juice. "I can make you a tea if you want to...it's just that I think you'll-"

"I'll take that." The man took the juice from Jamillah's hand, brushing her hand purposefully with his fingers. He drank the juice and smiled at her. "Thanks, wife."

"I told you, I am not-"

"Why can't you remember me, wife?" His face suddenly turned gloomy and sadness could be seen in his eyes. "I know that it is my fault that I left you to join the army but wife, all this time, all I have in my mind is you. I never tried to erase your existence in my heart so-"

Jamillah was caught off guard when the man suddenly turned his face to her. He's crying. Tears are falling down on his cheeks like a river.

"So why can't you remember me, wife?"

She wants to repeat her words earlier where she's saying the truth that she's not his wife. Yet that face full of longing and undying love to his cherished wife is making her feel guilty in some way. He must be a soldier who left his real wife to fight on the border. Not too long ago, she heard that the empire of Mizerania fought with Cerunos and a huge war happened near Rosmerta, that's on the border of those two forces. He must be one of the soldiers from either side.

"Why... Why are you denying me, wife? Look, I am sorry." He held Jamillah's hand tightly to his chest and tried to find the words that could convince her of his sincerity. "I love you, wife, please don't push me away."

Jamillah froze. Her conscience is telling her to pity the man in front of her and claim that she is his wife, however, her rationality is shouting and punching the logic inside her brain that lying right now won't do any good and the situation will get harder if they found his real wife.

"Wife, maybe the reason you can't remember me is because you have a memory loss."

No. It's you who has a memory loss, not me! She wanted to shout at him. And I am not your wife.

"It's okay, we can create new memories together now that I am back. I'll say my vow to you once again. Promise you all the good things that I can give to you. Take a stroll in a field full of flowers. Sleep under the-"

"I'm fine," Jamillah finally managed to say. She's blushing so hard especially when he started to kiss her hand multiple times as he enumerated those things he'll do with her to 'create new memories'. Her bashfulness makes her want to set him in fire and run away as fast as possible to hide his blushing face. Thankfully, a piece of reason is still with her and she can find a little patience within her heart. She cleared her throat and took her hand from his grasp. "If you're done, let me take the dishes to the kitchen. I have more things to do in the garden, so please just take a rest for now and-"

"I'll come with you."

"What?! No. Don't push your body to the limits."

She tried to push him back to the bed but the man grabbed her hand, making her fall into the bed with him. Gladly, she managed to support her weight with her hand before she actually crushes to the weak body of the man.

He smiled and played at the locks of Jamillah's silver hair that framed her face with his free hand. "Agni. You used to call me with my name... lovingly." he said. "And don't worry about me. I need to move from time to time so that I can gain my strength once again. Wife, don't belittle the heart of a soldier." Agni said and brushed the tip of her nose with his finger.

Locked on her position, Jamillah winced at the sudden touch. His face is so close to her that she tried so hard not to breathe so that he won't smell her breath.

"At least, let me watch you." Agni persuaded her more.

He's about to touch her face more when Jamillah agrees. "Okay, fine. Let go of my hand first and I'll guide you to the garden."

Agni chuckled at her. He can see clearly how her face turned into a tomato. "Uhm, that's fine." He let go of her hand and watched her fix her crumpled skirt.

"Just sit and watch, okay?," she said again like a mother reminding her toddler. "Don't try to do anything funny."