Hours before the festival
The house was far too quiet.
No pots on the stove.
No tea.
No footsteps.
Only the light creak of the wood as the wind hit the window.
Bruno was lying on the bed.
Eyes open.
Staring at the ceiling.
It was already late.
But sleep wouldn’t come.
Chest heavy.
That old feeling.
The same as always.
Before something went wrong.
"Of course it’s going to happen…" he murmured.
His voice low.
Tired.
"…it always happens."
The ceiling didn’t answer.
It never did.
"I never run from problems… it’s my punishment."
A weight sank onto the couch in the living room.
Kearlin appeared, throwing his invisible body as if on an eternal vacation.
"You chose this, little Bruno."
"Don’t call me that, Kearlin."
"Oh, come on. It suits you when you’re dramatic."
Silence.
Kearlin turned to the side, resting his face on his hand.
"Shall we recap?"
A teasing tone.
"You’re going to the festival."
"I am."
"A little problem will show up."
"It will."
"That problem calls another problem."
"Uh-huh."
"And by the time you realize it, half the village is on fire, three monsters, two love confessions, and you’re bleeding."
Bruno let out a sigh.
"…too specific."
"Experience."
Silence again.
Heavy.
Bruno got up.
Bare feet on the cold floor.
Opened the wardrobe.
Simple clothes.
Always simple.
Nothing heroic.
Nothing flashy.
He picked a nicer shirt.
Clean.
Dark.
Also grabbed a fur coat.
Adjusted the collar.
As if trying to look… normal.
He stared for a few seconds.
Standing still.
Then went back to the bed.
Sat on the edge.
"Why did Tila have to tell me this stupid custom…"
Kearlin smiled crookedly.
"The first dance is with your soulmate~"
"Stop."
"Romantic."
"Stop."
"Destined."
"Kearlin."
"Imagine if four different girls decided to pull you at the same time?"
Bruno ran a hand over his face.
"I’d rather fight a dragon."
"Liar."
"…I really would."
Kearlin laughed.
Then fell silent.
His voice softer.
"Y’know… you don’t have to go, right?"
Bruno stared at the floor.
Thought.
Long and hard.
"If I don’t go…"
Pause.
"…I’ll disappoint more than usual. Look, Kearlin, I don’t run from a fight even if it’s… unfair."
This wasn’t heroism.
It wasn’t nobility.
It was just… habit.
Breathing.
He stood up again.
This time, determined.
"Then I’ll go."
Kearlin smiled.
"Of course you will."
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
The door creaked as he opened it.
The night wind entered.
Cold.
And full of that bad feeling that fate was arriving.
Kearlin yawned.
"Good luck, little Bruno."
"…go away."
"See you in the chaos."
And Bruno left.
As always.
Walking straight toward the problem.
That’s what he did.
---
As the sun sank behind the hills, the village began to stir. Doors opened, windows banged, the smell of hot bread and cooked herbs filled the air. Ropes were stretched between houses, flowers hung, colorful pennants danced with the wind.
The garden festival.
Abundance, harvest, music, dancing… and mating.
An old excuse to bring shy people together and turn "I like you" into something less embarrassing.
Bruno watched it all with the same expression he wore on a battlefield.
Serious. Suspicious. Tired.
"…this is ridiculous."
Kearlin floated beside him, lying in the air as if resting in an invisible hammock.
"Which part?"
"All of it."
Couples rehearsed dance steps, children ran with flower crowns, elders tuned instruments. People laughing. People happy. Normal.
Bruno sighed.
"So this festival is literally for that?"
"Uh-huh."
"Fertility, marriage, soulmate…"
"Exactly."
He massaged his forehead.
"All this fuss just because people are too scared to say what they feel?"
Kearlin smiled crookedly.
"Basically a festival for virgins to get some courage."
"I’ve faced more organized necromancers than this…"
"Would you rather fight a lich or dance with four girls?"
"Give me the lich."
"No hesitation?"
"No hesitation."
A group tripped in the middle of practice and fell laughing. Simple life. No blood. No magic. No monsters.
Strangely… that felt heavier.
"…I don’t know how to do this."
"Do what?"
"Be normal."
Kearlin was quiet for a moment.
"Relax. They already know how you are."
"That doesn’t help."
The first drums began to sound in the square.
The festival was starting.
And Bruno, who had faced living towers, insane mages, and soul-made creatures, was more nervous than in any battle.
"I smell trouble."
"Today the trouble is romance, hero."
Bruno made a grimace.
"…that’s worse."
"BRUNO!"
The voice came before she did.
Tila ran down the dirt road, dodging people, holding the hem of her dress so she wouldn’t trip.
The yellow fabric, almost orange, fluttered lightly in the wind. The knitted flower on her back moved as if alive. The golden flower crown matched her hair so perfectly it seemed born there.
For a second, Bruno just stared.
Frozen.
"…"
She stopped in front of him, out of breath.
"You thought I’d never wear this, right?"
He blinked, returning to reality.
"I thought so."
"I worked up the courage." She twirled awkwardly. "But does it really suit me?"
"Of course it does. I made it."
The response came automatically.
Simple. Direct.
But Tila’s face flushed as if he had said the most intimate thing in the world.
"Haha… yes, I noticed."
She adjusted the crown, looking away.
"My father didn’t like it much… actually, he hardly likes anything I wear. Always says it’s too flashy, too attention-grabbing, any nonsense like that…"
Bruno frowned.
"Flashy?"
"Yeah…"
He looked at her again.
At the dress.
At how the fabric just highlighted how alive she looked…
Not flashy.
Just… beautiful.
"Your father’s blind."
"Eh?"
"Nothing wrong. Looks nice. Functional. Light. Good for dancing. Doesn’t restrict movement. Keeps you warm."
Tila laughed.
"Only you would praise a dress like it’s armor."
"Clothes are meant to work."
"So…" she stepped a little closer "…worked?"
He tilted his head.
"Yes. Worked."
Silence.
People passing by.
Music in the background.
Her heart beating too fast for something so small.
"So… you…"
She swallowed.
"You’re going to dance today?"
"I think so. Loosening up is always good."
"Yes yes yes!"
Tila answered too quickly, looking around as if seeking an excuse not to face him. "Have you tried the sweets from my village? It’s corn with sugar… turns into a kind of lollipop."
"No. Is it good?"
"I like it! Want to try?"
She didn’t even wait for an answer and ran off to the nearest stall, the yellow dress fluttering and the flower crown nearly falling.
"She’s really excited, Bruno." Kearlin murmured in the air.
"You think?"
"No. I’m sure. Two more steps and she’ll crash into the stall."
Bruno let out a light sigh. "It’s good. She’s opening up more."
"You sound like a proud dad."
"Shut up."
BOOM.
A heavy slap hit his back.
"Hey! Anaalyn, I haven’t fully healed yet!"
"You knew it was me, damn it, Bruno!"
"Of course."
"Of course what?"
"Weight, size, way of walking, boot sound… makes it easy."
Anaalyn stared at him for a few seconds. "That’s scary, Bruno."
He thought a moment. "…is it?"
"Yes! Like a demon sniffing its prey!"
Bruno let out a low, almost involuntary laugh.
She frowned. "Stop. You laughing is weird."
But she couldn’t help it and ended up laughing along with Bruno, her deep laughter mixing with his amid the festival noise.
"You don’t seem very excited… unlike the cow-girl"
"Tila has energy for two people"
"Three"
"Maybe three"
Anaalyn crossed her arms, leaning her shoulder on his. Even though short, her presence was heavy, firm as stone.
"And you’re not very excited either, and dwarves usually drink until they forget their own names."
"These festivals aren’t my thing," she huffed. "Too many people, too much music, too many couples staring at each other weirdly… I prefer a small tavern."
"Fair enough."
"Actually…" she kicked a little stone on the ground. "I only stay because… well… you’re the only one here I really know."
Bruno blinked, surprised, then let out a crooked smile.
"Haha thanks, Anaalyn, I’m flattered."
"Don’t get cocky, idiot. It’s just… less boring being near you."
"That was almost a compliment."
"Almost. Don’t exaggerate."
Kearlin floated around the two of them, lying belly-up as if in an invisible hammock.
"Wow, cozy vibes, grumpy dwarf and traumatized warrior, perfect couple damn it! I can’t multiship but I want to!"
"Shut up, ghost," Bruno muttered.
"I heard that."
"Exactly as intended."
Anaalyn glanced sideways.
"Talking to yourself again?"
"Mental issues advanced."
"Makes sense."
They both laughed quietly.
The village music grew louder, laughter, smell of sweet corn, roasting meat, children running with flower crowns. For a second… it seemed normal. Almost peaceful for their lives.
And that made Bruno more uncomfortable than any battle.
Because when everything is calm like this…
something always goes wrong.
Kearlin whispered near his ear.
"Bet how much trouble today?"
Bruno sighed.
"Not a bet… a certainty."
"Are you two going to keep chatting?" a voice came from behind.
Seralyn.
Anaalyn didn’t turn. "Elf, I thought you’d sleep through the whole festival."
"Couldn’t. Smelled a drunk dwarf from afar."
"Oh, go away."
She ignored the insult and went straight, stopping in front of Bruno. Her gaze slowly traveled down the bandages, the still-dirty dressings, the way he tilted his weight on his feet.
"You’re really here… you said you weren’t even recovered yet."
"I’m stubborn about lying down. Too much bed irritates me."
Seralyn looked down, hand gripping her own arm, almost nervous.
"Idiot."
"Sorry."
"Fine."
The silence between them felt strange. Music, laughter, smell of sweet food and campfire smoke mixing in the air. People dancing. Children running.
And the two of them, standing still.
Then—
CRASH.
Glass breaking.
Someone screaming.
A fight starting near the drink stalls.
At the same moment, Anaalyn turned her head.
When she looked back—
Bruno was gone.
Seralyn too.
"YOU BITCH!"
Cutting through the crowd, Seralyn pulled Bruno by the wrist with too much strength for someone so thin.
"Hey—calm—"
"Quiet."
She didn’t look back. Just walked fast, opening a path through the crowd, past lanterns, away from the noise, until reaching a darker part of the village, near the trees and river.
Quieter. Only crickets and the distant sound of the festival.
She finally let go of his hand.
The red mark of her fingers stayed on Bruno’s wrist.
They stood there, unsure what to say.
The festival noise seemed from another world.
"The two of them are coming… unfortunately, we don’t have much time."
"What do you mean?"
Seralyn didn’t answer immediately. Just took two more steps into the shadow of the trees, away from the lantern light. The festival noise became a distant echo.
She pointed upward.
The sky was clear. Dark. Full of stars scattered like salt on snow.
"Have you ever looked at the sky like this… alone with me?"
Bruno lifted his face slowly. Stayed silent for a few seconds.
"I remember when Tila was also with—"
"Then no."
She cut him off sharply.
Not harsh. Too quick. Almost… nervous.
Bruno blinked.
"Ah… okay."
Silence again.
The wind stirred the leaves. Music far away. The smell of sweet smoke from the village.
Seralyn took a deep breath, as if preparing to jump off a cliff.
"You helped me a lot."
Pause.
"I’m grateful… thank you, Bruno."
He froze.
Really.
Arrows, monsters, magic—fine.
But this?
No.
Mouth opened… nothing came out.
"No need for that. I’ve helped so many people for far less."
Automatic. Cold. Simple.
As always.
She let out a small, tired laugh.
"Always like this…"
Her eyes finally met his.
"You never change, Bruno."
Not an accusation.
Not praise either.
Just… observation.
Like someone saying snow is cold.
Bruno scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable.
"I… don’t know how to change much."
"I know."
She stepped closer. Too close. The light scent of herbs and leather mixing with the night’s cold.
"And maybe that’s why…"
She stopped.
Bit her tongue.
Huffed irritated.
"Ah, forget it."
Footsteps in the distance. Familiar voices.
Anaalyn cursing someone.
Tila calling Bruno’s name.
Seralyn turned quickly.
"Let’s go before they misunderstand."
She began walking.
Two steps.
Stopped.
Without looking back:
"…but thanks anyway, idiot."
And returned to the festival light, as if nothing had happened.
Bruno stood for a few seconds, staring at the sky.
"Did I say something wrong…?"
He murmured to himself, confused.
Then sighed and followed her, as always.
COUGH COUGH
The taste of iron hit his mouth before he even realized what was happening.
Blood.
Hot.
Dripping from the corner of his lip.
Bruno pressed a hand against the wooden wall of the cabin, the world spinning just enough to annoy him.
"Waking up so early instead of staying in a coma doesn’t help… damn it, Bruno… why do you have to be so stubborn…"
Spat the blood on the ground. Dark red staining the dust.
His whole body ached.
Ribs hurting.
Arm still torn.
Burns tugging at the skin.
Felt like someone had used him as a punching bag all night.
Maybe they had.
"You know this isn’t normal, right…"
Kearlin floated upside down in front of him, arms crossed.
"Normal people rest. You look allergic to being alive."
"Shut up…" Bruno muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "If I lie down again, I won’t get up."
"Exactly. That’s the point."
Light footsteps on the grass.
Seralyn.
Coming from the village, hair tied messily, still sleepy… but smiling.
A small, rare smile.
"Bruno, are you coming?"
A bit more energy in her voice.
A little… lighter.
He froze for half a second.
Chest tight.
Not from pain. From something else.
She seems… happy.
Damn it.
He straightened quickly, hiding his bloodied hand behind his coat.
Took a deep breath.
Forced his shoulders back.
The old mask.
"I’m coming."
A lie.
Big. Brazen.
