The rain had just stopped, leaving behind the refreshing scent of wet earth. Some patches of ground were still covered in puddles, but that didn’t stop the children from running around happily, as if the rain was their playmate.

A little girl with chubby cheeks approached Elira, who was sitting and reading a book. Her tiny hand tugged at the edge of Elira’s clothes.

“Elira,” she called softly. “Come play with us.”

Elira looked up, setting down her book. The little girl wasn’t alone—several other children were lined up behind her, faces bright and eager, as if Elira was their hero.

“Okay,” Elira said, standing up. She placed her book aside and walked alongside the group of children.

Their steps stopped in front of a large tree near the forest’s edge. Elira turned and faced the cheerful little faces.

“Remember, don’t go too deep into the forest. Stay within the boundary! Don’t disturb the adults who are working. If I haven’t found you in ten minutes, come back here right away. Understood?”

All the children nodded at once. They grinned as Elira turned around, hiding her face behind the tree trunk, and began counting from ten.

Laughter and playful shrieks filled the air. The children ran off to find their hiding spots.
“Three, two—” Elira’s voice rang out, “One! I’m coming!”

There were about six children she needed to find. Elira jogged lightly, calling out their names one by one. She laughed whenever she spotted a body poorly hidden behind a tree trunk.
“Got you!” Elira tapped a boy’s shoulder, then ran back to the big tree at the forest’s edge, placing her hand on the trunk. “Nael’s caught!”

Nael pouted, but laughed when Elira lifted him and spun him in the air.

Every child in Ashira loved playing with Elira. Whenever they saw her alone, they would come running to her, begging her to play—and Elira almost never said no.

Only two children were left. Elira walked slowly toward the forest, calling their names softly.
“Gledis,” she called. “Reina. I’m coming.”

She stepped from one tree to another. The two little girls were tiny, making them harder to find.
“Gledis?” Elira frowned. Nearly ten minutes had passed, but neither child had appeared.

Just as she had reminded them, they were supposed to come out of hiding after ten minutes. She had made that rule herself because she was always afraid the children might wander too far.
“Reina?”

The forest gave no reply. The damp air after the rain clung to her skin, and Elira rubbed her arms, feeling an odd chill creep over her.

She stopped near a large tree and looked around. Red ribbons were tied around its trunk, fluttering gently in the wind—a silent reminder: this is your boundary.

Elira bit her lower lip. The children couldn’t have gone this far.

Then she caught a small movement from the corner of her eye—a shadow behind the bushes. Elira stepped closer, hoping to find one of the missing girls.

But the closer she got, the stranger it felt. The small figure looked far too thin. Its back was hunched, as if carrying a weight much heavier than its body.

Elira’s breath caught. The child wasn’t from Ashira. The clothes on its body were torn and filthy, smeared with dirt. The face was barely visible under layers of black grime. The hair was matted and stiff with mud.

Its frail hands—nothing but bones—were lifting heavy pieces of wood. The child’s eyes were hollow, as if light and hope had long abandoned them.

Elira’s knees trembled. She wanted to call out, but her voice was trapped in her throat. The red ribbon brushed against her cheek, warning her again not to go any farther.

But the poor child looked like he could barely stand. Every time he bent down, he grimaced, as if fighting something painful inside.

Elira’s eyes burned. There were so many loaves of bread at her house that she often grew tired of eating them. Every month, the cloth merchant brought her new silk robes she never asked for—most of them just sat unused in the storeroom.

With shaking legs, Elira took a step forward. At the very least, she wanted to help the child lift the wood.

But before she could, a firm grip caught her wrist. Elira turned around, nearly bumping into Raka’s chest.

“Don’t,” Raka whispered.

“B-but—” Elira stammered. “Raka, that child—”

Raka’s hand loosened, his fingers sliding between hers. He gently pulled her away, leading her out of the forest.

“Raka,” Elira said, though her mind was spinning. Still, her feet followed him.

Raka stopped only when the forest’s edge came into view. His hand still held hers, but his eyes were sharp and steady.

“That child—was he from Kamura? Or another village far from here? Why was he near the border?” Elira’s curiosity burst out before she could hold it back.
“Why did you go so far? Gledis and the others were worried sick.”

Elira pulled her hand away, her gentle gaze hardening into anger.
“You know something, don’t you?” she demanded. “Father says Kamura is prosperous, but that child looked starving. Even newborns in Ashira aren’t that thin.”

Raka sighed. “Your father isn’t always right about everything.”

His answer didn’t satisfy her. Elira turned to leave, but Raka caught her hand again.

“Don’t act recklessly,” he said. “And don’t ask your father or the elders anything about this. If you want to help that child, let me do it.”

Elira glared at him. It was clear Raka was hiding something, and she hated that.

“Elira,” Raka said quietly, reading her expression. “Remember—you are Baran’s daughter, the daughter of Ashira’s chief. You must be careful, especially with people from other villages. Things may look peaceful now, but we never know what the future will bring. Believe me, meeting that child will only bring trouble.”

He placed both hands on her shoulders and looked at her seriously.
“Your dance practice is about to start. You don’t want another lecture from Samara, do you?”

There were still so many questions swirling in Elira’s mind, but she knew Raka wouldn’t answer them.

“You’ll help that child?” she asked.

Raka nodded. “Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll go see him tomorrow, quietly. I’ll bring bread and clothes. But you must tell no one. The elders would punish me if they found out.”

“Okay,” Elira whispered, though her heart pounded with doubt she couldn’t shake. Yet Raka’s steady gaze made it hard not to trust him.

He gave her a faint smile and led her the rest of the way out of the forest. As soon as they stepped into the open, Gledis and the other children ran toward Elira, tears streaming down their cheeks as they hugged her legs.

Elira looked at Raka, but he only shrugged. She crouched down and spread her arms, letting the children rush in for a hug.

Raka was right—she had worried them by breaking her own rule.

But even as the children’s embrace warmed her, the image of that starving child lingered in her mind. Her smile felt hollow, as if the laughter and light of Ashira were only hiding something far darker beneath.