The campfire crackled softly before me, its light casting faint shadows on the face of the man sitting across. The aroma of roasted meat filled the air, blending with the scent of burning wood that warmed the cold night.
Father sat cross-legged, casually holding a piece of rabbit meat that I had just hunted. I held another piece myself, its heat still lingering on my fingertips. We ate in silence for a while, accompanied only by the rustling leaves and the whisper of the night wind.
I glanced at him, hesitant. Usually, we never sat together like this without a reason. Training, punishment, or orders—those were always the reasons for our time together. But tonight... it felt different.
"Father," I called softly, breaking the silence.
"Hm?" He turned to me without expression.
I tightened my grip on the meat in my hands. "Why do you keep training me?" I asked.
Father raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I know... I'm not the child you expected," I admitted. "I'm not the strongest, not the smartest. But you still teach me how to fight. You didn't just throw me away."
He was silent for a moment before letting out a long breath. "Because you're still useful."
His answer shouldn't have surprised me, but somehow, my chest felt a little tight.
"Don't get me wrong, kid," he continued, chewing his meat leisurely. "You're not the best, but you're not trash either. There's some use in you. And if I can forge that... maybe you can become something more than just a burden."
I stared at the fire, trying to grasp his words. Maybe it wasn't the answer I wanted, but at least it meant he didn't see me as completely worthless.
Father looked at me, his gaze softening slightly—almost nostalgic. "You remind me of someone."
I turned quickly. "Who?"
He chuckled, a rare sound from him. "Someone who was once just as stubborn and too naive to believe the world wasn't this cruel."
I wanted to ask more, but he had already taken the last bite of his meat, as if ending the conversation.
We fell into silence again, leaving only the crackling fire between us. But that night, for the first time in my life, I felt... maybe I truly had a father.