The clatter of horse hooves.

  After an endless, silent week of travel.

  The ugly dirt road had long become smooth stone.

  “Harlyn!”

  Jukig called.

  Harlyn lifted her head.

  “Look ahead,” he said with a smile.

  Unbelievably, the thing Harlyn had only ever known through words now stood before her eyes.

  A large kingdom.

  Even from afar, it stretched out like a vast forest of stone.

  ***

  A tall, sturdy white wall—probably as high as six of Harlyn’s houses stacked atop one another stood before her.

  From a distance, she had been able to see the kingdom in its entirety.

  Now, the wall seemed endless.

  Harlyn had to tilt her head back just to see the top.

  Their horse carriage stopped before a gate—

  gigantic iron bars woven tightly together.

  Two soldiers stood on either side of the entrance, clad head to toe in gleaming steel armor.

  “Alright,” Jukig said, turning around.

  “Stay here, Harlyn.” he added with a confident smile.

  Harlyn nodded faintly.

  Jukig dismounted, brushed dust from his trousers, and casually walked toward the gate.

  Harlyn watched her uncle in silence as he stepped in front of a soldier.

  Compared to them, Jukig looked frighteningly small—each soldier nearly half a body taller.

  Jukig pulled something from his bag.

  A piece of paper.

  He handed it over.

  The soldier took it and examined for a long moment.

  Suddenly—

  he turned and pointed toward Harlyn.

  She immediately crouched low inside the carriage, peeking out with only her small eyes, watching curiously.

  Jukig scratched the back of his head awkwardly and said something.

  At last, the soldier’s gaze left Harlyn.

  He turned to the soldier opposite him and nodded.

  Seeing that, the other soldier signalled to another one on top of the wall.

  Jukig seemed to exhale all at once—his shoulders loosening.

  He walked back toward the carriage, his face pale, as if he had just shaken off possession.

  Climbing onto the horse, he took a deep breath and smiled at Harlyn.

  “Welcome, to the capital of Talumnor.”

  Hearing that, Harlyn relaxed too.

  Something in that word seemed to catch her thought.

  Talumnor…

  With a heavy groan, the gate was raised, pulling Harlyn back out.

  Their carriage started moving again.

  The wall was thick, while beneath, it cast a layer of shadow—like a boundary between the outside and the new world awaiting.

  The bright sunlight returned.

  Though sad, though she didn’t want to care.

  Harlyn’s eyes betrayed her.

  Rows of houses stretched out before her, each at least two or three stories tall.

  She looked down from the carriage.

  The road beneath them was paved with large, interlocking stone slabs—something even the floor of her own home had never had.

  ***

  They stopped in front of a two-story house.

  “Here it is,” Jukig said, hopping down and stretching his back with a groan.

  Harlyn climbed down after him.

  …

  The door opened.

  Inside, it was pitch black.

  “Wait a moment, Harlyn,” Jukig said, hurrying in to light an oil lamp.

  Harlyn dragged her bag inside, her eyes quietly scanning the room.

  The house was small—about two-thirds the size of her own—but it felt… cozy.

  Jukig rushed to the bed in the corner, tossed his blanket and pillow aside, then carefully brushed and blew dust from the mattress.

  Finally, he placed his hands on his hips and turned to Harlyn with pride.

  “Here. This is your bed.”

  “Make yourself at home!” he said with a smile.

  Harlyn slowly dragged her sack of belongings to the foot of the bed.

  Carefully, she took out the blanket and pillow, then spread them across the mattress.

  Finally, she pulled out her spellbook, climbed onto the bed, and sat there—huddled, hugging the book tightly.

  She didn’t say a word.

  Jukig scratched his head, watching her with a worried look.

  Then, as if struck by an idea, he hurried over to the nearby bookshelf.

  He rushed back to her.

  “Wow! Look at this!” He opened his hand.

  Inside lay a small wooden pull horse.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  He offered it to Harlyn.

  She touched it lightly, then accepted it in silence—her gaze drifting back ahead.

  As she held it in her hands, the string slipped free and fell on the bed.

  Harlyn looked down at it in silence

  Jukig froze, his proud smile stiffening on his face.

  Without a word, he hurried back to the bookshelf.

  This time, he returned with a wooden peg doll.

  But before handing it to Harlyn, he examined it carefully.

  He blew and wiped it with his shirt, like a piece of diamond.

  “Isn’t it pretty?”

  Like before, Harlyn only glanced and gently took it.

  Unsatisfied, Jukig ran off again—

  and again.

  One wooden toy after another.

  ***

  Soon, the pile had grown so large that Harlyn could no longer hold them in her hands.

  She hugged the entire bundle against her chest, her spellbook pressed in with them.

  But—

  the same posture.

  The same distant gaze, fixed on a space that seemed endless.

  “Oh—right, Harlyn!” Jukig said suddenly. “There’s a garden on the second floor. Trust me, it is beautiful.”

  “You should go see it—”

  …

  Her silence caused his voice to trail off.

  “If you want…”

  “Ah, I’m starving!” Jukig clicked his finger.

  “Harlyn must be also, right?”

  No answer.

  Still, he hurried cheerfully into the kitchen, pulling out what he needed.

  A pot.

  A bag of spices.

  He reached for the shelf on the wall, the moment he opened it—

  Clack. Clang!

  Thud.

  Jukig fell.

  Harlyn snapped around, her eyes wide with alarm.

  The shelf hung open—its contents scattered.

  She couldn’t see her uncle; the kitchen counter blocked her view.

  Harlyn lifted her head slightly, her mouth parting—

  as if she were suffocating, no sound came out.

  Just then, a hand appeared on the edge of the counter.

  “Damn it, this shelf!”

  Jukig struggled upright, clutching the swelling bump on his forehead.

  A flicker of worry passed through Harlyn’s eyes.

  But then, slowly she returned to her original position.

  …

  “Hey!”

  A sharp shout from outside caught both their attention.

  “Put the carriage in the right place, or I’ll confiscate it!”

  A soldier’s firm, intimidating voice echoed into the house.

  “I’ll move it right away!” Jukig shouted back.

  He turned to Harlyn.

  “Wait here, Harlyn. I’ll be right back.”

  ***

  It was growing dark.

  Only a single oil lamp lit the house, its glow mingling with the warm aroma of food.

  They sat together on the floor, eating their dinner.

  Aside from the clink of spoons and the quiet sounds of chewing.

  Silence.

  ***

  Crickets were chirping outside, and the moon had risen high.

  Jukig lay sprawled on the floor, long since fallen asleep.

  The oil lamp remained lit—left just for Harlyn.

  The pile of wooden toys and her book had been neatly set aside on the bed.

  The night was eerily still.

  Yet Harlyn sat there, huddled and awake.

  Then—

  As if she made up her mind

  Slowly, she rose from the bed.

  She moved past Jukig like a breeze,

  her steps soundless as she entered the kitchen.

  Harlyn rummaged through the counter, seemingly searching for something—

  A drawer opened.

  A knife caught the light.

  Harlyn lifted it, the blade gleaming.

  She slowly pointed it toward her chest.

  Her small hands trembled uncontrollably, her face twisting.

  She took a deep breath.

  The trembling slowed—then stopped.

  She held the knife a short distance away from her chest, prepared.

  With a faint smile, she thrusted it forward.

  Vroosh.

  …

  Clang.

  The knife was slapped away from her hands and hit the floor.

  Harlyn gasped for breath and turned around.

  Jukig was standing right beside her, breathless—his eyes wide.

  Anxiety.

  Fear.

  Confusion.

  All laid bare.

  “Harlyn—!”

  “What are you doing?!”

  Harlyn broke down.

  “I miss my mom… I miss my dad!”

  It’s like the words pierced straight through Jukig’s heart.

  He pulled her into his arms.

  “Hey—it’s alright.”

  “I want to see them!” Harlyn cried loud.

  Hearing that, Jukig shut his eyes tightly, his face contorting in pain.

  He let out a long exhale and lifted Harlyn gently as she hugged him tightly—sobbing.

  He looked down at the knife, then kicked it into the corner of the kitchen—away, like a piece of filth.

  Slowly,

  Jukig placed Harlyn back on the bed and knelt, lowering himself to her eye level.

  Harlyn turned her face away.

  “Harlyn… you still have me,” Jukig said softly.

  His hands tightened around her shoulders.

  “Are you alive?” he asked, giving her a gentle shake.

  Harlyn shook her head dejectedly.

  “I’m not…” She sobbed.

  The hands on Harlyn’s shoulder became firm.

  “That’s not true—” Jukig muttered.

  …

  “You still could think,”

  “You still could speak,”

  “You’re still feeling my arms.”

  His voice stayed gentle—but it rose, just slightly.

  "You've got a second chance!"

  …

  Harlyn slowly looked up at him—tear lingered in her eyes.

  “Then why didn’t my parents have one?” she choked out.

  Jukig lowered his head for a short moment, before lifting them back up.

  “So that you could—”

  Jukig shook her again, gently.

  He paused.

  “And I’m sure… they’d want you to move on.” his gaze slightly looked away.

  …

  “And I also hope that you can move on Harlyn—" he looked straight into Harlyn’s eyes as he spoke.

  He cupped her face in his palm.

  “You still have so much ahead of you,” he said quietly.

  “It’s waiting for you to come.”

  His hand slowly let go.

  “I want you to think about it.”

  Harlyn quietly watched as Jukig laid back down.

  She stayed where she was, lost in thoughts.