It was supposed to be an ordinary day. Wars raged everywhere - for race, for money, for power, or simply to have more than the other. Nothing new... until the sky began to tremble.
The clouds churned as if they sensed something coming. A deep sound, like glass shattering, echoed above. Then, the impossible happened: a crack split open in the sky. From that rift, a figure plummeted, screaming in a pitch so sharp it made bones shiver.
- AaAaaAaAaAaaah! - the cry tore through the air, ending abruptly with a heavy thud against the ground.
The boy, who looked no older than fifteen, lay still for a moment. The echo of the fall lingered in the earth, heavy and painful. Slowly, the crack in the sky began to seal itself, as if nothing had happened.
The figure stirred, groaning. The boy lifted his head, breathless, dust falling over his messy hair.
- Damn... Kearlin? You there? - he muttered, voice dragging. His eyes darted around nervously. - Not funny, this time I'm serious...
Then, a silhouette began to take shape a few meters away. A ghostly presence, translucent, solidified in the air. The face, however, remained calm - familiar.
- Bruno... what did I miss? - Kearlin asked, scratching the back of his neck, looking embarrassed.
Bruno raised his eyes, sarcasm spilling out naturally.
- I don't know... maybe everything. Like me traveling to another world with no questions and no answers.
The two exchanged a heavy look, silence hanging for a few seconds. Then something broke the tension: a structure in the distance. A tavern, glowing with orange lanterns, carved itself into the horizon.
- Better than nothing - Kearlin said, trying to sound optimistic.
Bruno frowned, still on edge.
- We don't know who's in there Or what thing is there?- he replied coldly.
The road leading to the tavern stretched long and empty, but in this new world, every step could mean danger.....
The wooden floor creaked under hurried steps. A young warrior rushed through the dimly lit hall, his breath uneven as he burst into the presence of the village chief.
"Chief! A house appeared to the southeast of our village!" the boy blurted, his voice trembling with urgency.
The chief, Gorham, barely lifted his gaze from the parchment in his hands. His voice was calm, as if carved from stone.
"How many people did you see?"
"Just one... so far," the boy replied quickly.
"Then why the concern?" Gorham's tone remained steady, almost indifferent.
"It wasn't there before! Two days ago I walked that path-there was nothing but open land. Now there's a house standing there, out of nowhere!" The boy's words tumbled out, weighted with unease.
For the first time, Gorham hesitated. His brows furrowed, deep in thought.
"...We wait," he finally said, his voice slow, deliberate. "If it's a problem, we crush it. Like we always do."
The boy swallowed hard and nodded, though the knot in his chest only tightened.
---
Meanwhile, outside that mysterious house...
She moved carefully, her hooves making a soft thud against the grass as she approached the clearing. Sunlight spilled over her golden hair, tangled in gentle waves, glinting off the small horns curling delicately from her head. Her ears-bovine in shape, fur soft and pale-twitched at every sound as she drew closer to the patch of wildflowers she'd come to collect.
The breeze smelled different today. Unfamiliar. Like something that didn't belong.
Still, she knelt by the flowers, humming a light tune that drifted lazily into the air. Her fingers danced over petals, plucking the finest blooms with care.
Then she froze.
There-just a few paces away-someone was sitting. A men Around 25 26 years old e He looks like someone tired of what I don't know with dark hair messy from sleep. His head was tilted back against a stone Flowers around him, his chest rising slowly in the rhythm of dreams. And floating above him... something strange.
She blinked, heart quickening.
Was he... human? Mostly. But the presence above him wasn't. Its form shimmered like smoke caught in sunlight, faintly humanoid yet ethereal, its eyes gleaming with mischief as it hovered protectively over the sleeping boy.
The spirit smirked-if spirits could smirk. Its voice, amused and mocking, slipped into the wind like a secret she wasn't meant to hear.
"Either she's blind, or her head's full of clouds. My bet's on the clouds."
The boy stirred suddenly, a sharp whisper escaping his lips.
"Why didn't you wake me up?! Damn it-stop saying things like that. It's... degrading."
The spirit chuckled, ignoring him.
Her grip tightened around the flowers. Who were they? Why here?
The boy opened his eyes, blinking against the sunlight. Then his gaze locked on her. She stiffened, her breath caught.
He spoke first. His voice was soft, cautious, but it carried across the still air.
"...Hey. You-girl."
Her tail flicked nervously behind her as the wind shifted, carrying the faint hum of her interrupted song away.
She startled, stumbling back with a soft gasp. The bundle of flowers slipped from her grasp-
-but before they could touch the ground, a hand shot out and caught every stem with effortless grace.
"Whoa-!" she blinked in surprise. The boy, the stranger, straightened up slowly, holding the flowers as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
"I- I'm so sorry, sir! I didn't see you there!" she stammered, her cheeks warm with embarrassment.
"Sir...?" His tone carried a faint amusement, though his face remained calm. "It's fine. Just... be more careful next time." He turned as if to leave, sliding his hands into his pockets.
"Wait!" she called out quickly. "You're... you're an adventurer, right? I know everyone in my village, but I don't remember ever seeing you before." Her eyes sparkled with the thrill of what she thought was a discovery.
"No," he replied curtly, not even glancing back. "Just... live nearby."
"Then why the rush?" she pressed, tilting her head. "If you don't want to talk because you don't know me... we can fix that!" Her smile bloomed bright and warm, like sunlight breaking through clouds. "My name's Tila-daughter of Gorham!"
For a heartbeat, Bruno said nothing. His eyes lingered on her. Was it fear? Sadness? Worry? No... something else entirely.
"...Bruno," he finally said. "Just Bruno." A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Nice to meet you, Bruno!" She lifted her hand, palm open, waiting.
"Uh... nice to meet you too...?" His voice faltered slightly as he reached out, giving her hand a firm shake.
Above them, the spirit let out an exaggerated sniffle, pretending to wipe a tear from its non-existent eye.
"Look at my boy... making new friends. I'm so proud."
"Shut up," Bruno muttered under his breath, glaring at the spirit out of the corner of his eye.
Tila tilted her head, oblivious, as Bruno crouched slightly to examine the flowers scattered around them.
"Collecting these, huh? Good for calming the mind. Maybe that's why I fell asleep here," he said, brushing dirt from a petal.
Tila froze, color rising to her cheeks at his casual tone-like he'd stepped right into her thoughts. Her fingers curled against her dress as her tail flicked once, betraying her fluster.
"sir You... you know about flowers too?" Her voice carried a spark of surprise, her golden eyes brightening as she clutched the basket closer.
"There it is again... 'Sir.'" Bruno exhaled a soft laugh through his nose. "Why so surprised?"
"Because-" she hesitated, then blurted out with a sheepish smile, "Sorry, but... you really look like a warrior."
Bruno tilted his head slightly, as if the words brushed past him without sticking. His eyes shifted to the horizon instead of answering.
---
The sun was already dipping low, bleeding orange and gold across the endless sky. Shadows stretched long through the clearing, and the flowers now rested neatly in a small woven basket by Tila's side.
The urgency of earlier had melted away. The world felt slower, softer, as though time had loosened its grip just for them.
Bruno sat back on the same stone where he'd fallen asleep, elbows resting on his knees, gaze fixed on the distant hills where light and shadow danced together. Beside him, Tila spoke with uncontainable warmth, her voice painting vivid pictures of places she wanted to see-the great waterfalls beyond the western cliffs, the glowing caverns her grandmother once described, the markets filled with spices and colors from every land.
He listened in silence. And for the first time in what felt like years... Bruno didn't seem in a hurry to leave.
Finally, his voice broke the quiet, gentle yet firm:
"Looks like it's getting late. You should head back home, Tila." A faint smile tugged at his lips.
Her golden ears twitched as she turned toward him, a pout slipping onto her face.
"But I was only just getting started..."
He gave her a look. She gave him one back.
They'd been there for four hours.
"Okay, but first-" Tila spun around so fast her curls whipped the air, jabbing a finger right at Bruno's chest. "We're coming back here, and you're going to tell me more about yourself."
Her confidence lasted all of two seconds before her cheeks flushed crimson. She dropped her hand like it had burned her.
"S-sorry! I mean... only if you want to, of course. You don't have to-"
Bruno blinked, startled for the first time since they'd met. Then, without a word, he gently caught her finger between his own and lowered it.
"Alright," he said, the corner of his mouth curving into the faintest grin. "But only if you bring tea."
Tila's eyes widened. For a heartbeat, she just stared-then nodded so fast she nearly dropped the basket.
"Deal," she whispered.
---
The walk back felt shorter than it should have. The flowers in the little basket swayed with each step, but Tila's thoughts... they never stopped moving.
'Just Bruno?' she mused, scrunching her nose as a ridiculous smile crept across her lips. Who answers like that?
She kicked at tiny stones along the path, trying to disguise the giddy bounce in her steps.
He caught the flowers. In midair. Like those heroes from Mom's old stories.
Her cheeks warmed again at the memory-at the way he'd said the flowers were good for rest. 'Maybe that's why I fell asleep here,' he'd told her. A simple line. Just words. But it felt like he'd seen something in her. Something real.
"...And I called him sir three times. Three!" She groaned under her breath. "Cloud-head, Tila. Absolute cloud-head."
She ran a hand through her tangled curls, trying to tame the chaos the wind had left behind. Ahead, the last rays of sunlight washed the village in molten orange, painting the rooftops and trees with soft firelight.
Her legs ached, but her heart... it felt like a melody she couldn't stop humming.
'He said he'll come back... if I bring tea.'
That's when the flutter in her stomach turned cold.
'I'll bring the best tea in the village. Even if I have to steal the leaves from old Yelna herself. And I'll find out who this 'Just Bruno' really is.'
She quickened her pace, determination lighting her face. For the first time in forever... the day felt worth something.
But when she turned the last corner of the path, her steps faltered.
There-leaning against the doorframe, a heavy axe resting casually against his shoulder-stood Gorham. Her father.
The steel edge glinted in the fading sun.
Tila swallowed hard, but kept moving, clutching her basket tight.
He watched her approach with a squint, his jaw set like stone. She passed him without a word. No cheerful 'Hi, Dad.' No polite 'I'm home.'
Just... silence. And a tune on her lips, soft and sweet.
Gorham's grip tightened on the axe handle.
"...Hm."
She vanished inside, the door clicking shut behind her. Seconds later, muffled giggles slipped through the walls like smoke.
The chief's brow furrowed.
"That smile..." His voice was low, rough, like distant thunder. "That has a name. And it's masculine."
---
Far away, atop the hill-
Bruno stood with arms crossed, eyes fixed on the small house below. The glow from its windows flickered like a secret waiting to be told. Beside him, Kearlin floated lazily, yawning into the breeze.
"I give it two days before her father comes to kill you," the spirit said, voice dripping with mock concern.
"That'll depend on the tea," Bruno replied dryly, never looking away from the house.
Kearlin tilted his head. "You're impossible. That man looks like he sharpens axes for fun."
"Good," Bruno murmured. "Makes the conversation easier."
Kearlin let out a long sigh, folding his arms-if you could call that folding.
The village at night smelled of rain and small problems-the kind that don't explode, just poke at you slowly until you either fix them... or die ignoring them.
And in that perfectly rural scene walked Bruno-a man nobody knew where he came from-carrying two carrots, a leek, and... an awkward head of lettuce trying to escape the bag as if it wanted to run for freedom.
"Impressive. You've been here a week and already losing a fight to a lettuce," Kearlin commented.
"It started it," Bruno muttered, shoving the lettuce back inside the bag with his elbow, without even looking.
People watched him pass with the kind of look you'd give a well-dressed toad: a mix of curiosity, a little fear, and the certainty that he didn't belong there.
Bruno didn't care. He walked like someone who had been there for years-maybe because he'd been in far worse places, or maybe because he truly didn't care.
"You should talk to someone. Just for a change. Last time you interacted with a human, she ignored you completely."
"She seemed busy," he said, as if that was reason enough.
"Busy telling bedtime stories to someone else's brain."
Silence. Bruno stopped in front of a vegetable stall. The vendor smiled-then froze when he realized who it was. Bruno picked up a carrot. It was crooked. He bought it anyway.
"Seriously? A crooked carrot? Who are you feeding with that? Your wounded ego?" Kearlin asked, rolling his eyes.
Bruno shrugged, voice dry with sarcasm.
"Fits me. Straight... but with curves of sorrow."
Kearlin stared for three seconds.
"That was poetically awful."
Bruno ignored him. He walked on, giving a small wave to a kid playing with pebbles in a puddle. The kid ran off screaming:
"The weird man!"
"You're a real people person."
"Working on it," Bruno said with the face of someone who definitely wasn't working on it.
He was almost home, satisfied with the healthy level of anonymity he'd maintained, when he heard something behind him. A shout? No. A thud. Then a quick, shaky voice:
"G-give me everything and no one gets hurt!"
Bruno turned slowly, biting into the crooked carrot. In front of him stood a boy-too skinny to scare anyone-holding a dagger... a dull one.
"I'm... robbing you," the boy repeated, trembling.
Kearlin sighed, rubbing his face.
"Perfect. A thief. Just what your day needed."
Bruno took another bite of the carrot, staring calmly at the boy. Then-movement. In an instant, the boy flinched, shocked to see his dagger stuck into something. Not flesh... but lettuce.
"See? I can dodge a fight without throwing a punch," Bruno said, elbows raised like a champ.
"The real fight is gonna be that kid trying to pull the lettuce off his knife," Kearlin muttered, glancing back.
Bruno didn't even listen. He kept walking until he reached his door. But just as his hand touched the handle, he froze.
"What is it?" Kearlin asked.
"Someone's inside my house," Bruno whispered, eyes scanning the shadows.
Pause.
"Gone now."
He pushed the door open. Nothing. Everything was in place.
"Weird. Didn't steal anything? Means they weren't here to rob you. They were here to..." Kearlin scratched his chin.
"...watch you."
Bruno stayed quiet, putting away the groceries. But then he noticed something on the floor-something dark. Black as midnight. Not his.
High up in a tree outside, something moved. Silent. Precise. Watching Bruno until he closed the door.
The figure didn't stir, blending into the leaves like part of the tree-or like someone who had mastered the art of being forgotten by the world.
A curved black tattoo pulsed faintly under the sleeve of their clothes... then went still again.
"He's different."
And then, like wind, the figure vanished without a sound.
"Sweet dreams."
---
The sun hadn't even risen fully when the rooster forgot to crow, and Bruno was already awake, making breakfast for one. A small meal... but with the strange feeling it might not stay that way.
"Up early again. Is it fear... or just can't wait to see someone?" Kearlin teased, tapping Bruno's shoulder.
"You, of all people, should know my schedule. I always wake up early," Bruno said without looking.
Pause.
"But yeah... maybe I'm a little anxious."
Kearlin smirked-the smug kind Bruno hated.
"Anxious, huh? But isn't it a little early to leave?"
"She doesn't seem like the type to be late."
Bruno stepped outside, knowing the village was just a short walk away. But with every step, thoughts crept in:
What did that person want in my house? I just moved here, and already someone's watching me? It's been years since... since anything happened. I keep my head down. I stay out of everything. And yet...
Forget it. Don't think about it. Of course, she'll like the tea. Not that we're meeting for tea. That'd be stupid. It's not about tea. Definitely not about her. Or him. Or whatever this is-
At the same time, Tila walked, trying not to think about the same thing... and failing.
Until they bumped into each other. She stumbled, almost fell-but Bruno caught her hand in time.
"This is getting good. Where's my popcorn?" Kearlin whispered.
"Looks like we're early," Bruno said, trying to break the ice.
"Y-yeah..." It didn't work.
"Congrats, Romeo. Stealing hearts already."
"Shut up," Bruno thought. "Let's go."
"I brought cookies too... but they broke on the way. So now they're... crumbs with personality."
Bruno chuckled softly-the kind of laugh that didn't escape him often.
"Crumbs are good. Less work to chew."
Tila smiled, relieved like he'd just handed her a blessing. They walked together to the flower field where they met yesterday. Same place, but somehow different now. The sun was higher. The air lighter. Or maybe... it was just them.
Bruno sat on the same rock he'd napped on before. Tila knelt on the grass, unpacking her basket.
"Don't mind the cups. They don't match. One has a duck... the other... I think it's a goat?"
"Fits us," Bruno said.
"Us?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Duck and goat. Loud and stubborn." Bruno stirred the tea with a thin twig.
"I'm not stubborn!" she shot back-and immediately proved his point, a shy smile on her lips.
Kearlin floated lazily behind Bruno, lying in the air like a hammock.
"This is it. The moment. He's gonna say something deep, she's gonna blush. Oh, I've seen this in every drama ever-'And then their eyes met...'"
Bruno ignored him.
"Why did you really come yesterday?" he asked, calm but direct.
Tila blinked, caught off guard.
"Uh... flowers. I like walking alone. Thinking. And then I found you asleep. Got curious." She lowered her gaze. "And you... you seem like someone who's lived through a lot, even though you look so..."
"Young?"
"No. Tired." A tiny victorious smile curved her lips.
Bruno stared at the horizon. Took a breath. Didn't answer right away. Just took the cup she handed him.
"This tea's good," he said after a sip.
"Really?"
"No. It's awful. But thanks anyway."
Tila laughed out loud-and suddenly, the weight in the air was gone. Just the two of them, tea, and... Kearlin.
Emotional connection alert! Repeat: We're having a moment! Can I shout "kisssss"
Or is it still too early?
"Oh, come on, Bruno. You only drank that tea so you'd have an excuse to sit here with her," Kearlin teased in a sultry tone only Bruno could hear.
Bruno gritted his teeth, ignoring him.
But Kearlin didn't stop.
"You couldn't handle a simple 'hello.' You needed bad tea to play casual. Adorable. I'm emotional."
Bruno exhaled through his nose like a man enduring torture.
"You okay?" Tila asked.
"Better now. Just... an internal mosquito."
"You get those a lot?"
"Just one. And he's very persistent."
She smiled, not understanding-but finding it oddly cute.
"And who made this dress?" Bruno asked. "That dress? My mom, why are you asking?" Tila replied
"It's very tasteless for someone like you"
"tasteless, what do you mean"
" nothing no"
And they stayed there until nightfall, talking about dreams, fears, broken promises, lost time, and things they didn't dare say out loud.
Until-
"Guess it's time to say goodbye."
"Yeah... if I'm any later, my dad will kill me. Or worse."
"Worse?"
She smiled.
And then-Bruno froze. Felt something.
Eyes.
"Come out."
Six men stepped from the shadows.
"Looks like someone spotted us," one of them said.