The group advanced along the dusty road that led to the city. The sun hung suspended above their heads, and the breeze barely eased the heat. Among the group of men, the atmosphere was light; they talked about what they would do upon arrival, whether there might be a good corner to sit and beg, or some merchant willing to pay a few coins for minor work.

Ga-eun, on the other hand, walked with her arms crossed. “As soon as we arrive, I’ll look for a phone,” she muttered more to herself than to the others. “Or a Korean consulate, anything.”

The others looked at her, puzzled. One of the beggars who had heard her scratched his head. “A… telé-what?”

She sighed. It wasn’t worth explaining. How could she, anyway? The night she had spent with them had already made it clear that none of them seemed to have ever heard of a cellphone, an embassy, or even Korea.

Meanwhile, the young man the group had rescued from the desert walked a few steps ahead. He seemed calm, though he kept glancing toward the horizon. When one of the beggars asked what he would do once they arrived, he replied with an oddly serene tone, “I just want to go home. It’s been an… interesting experience, in a way.”

He clenched his right fist tightly, as if holding onto something.

The conversation faded away. The rest of the journey passed in the silence of dust and the creak of worn sandals. From time to time, she noticed the young man’s gaze on her. But as soon as she met it, he looked away, as if he had been caught staring. She thought maybe he wanted to thank her for the food from the other night, but she had no intention of forcing him to talk if he didn’t want to.

When the city walls appeared in the distance, the beggars sighed in relief. Reddish towers and banners rose above the rooftops, and the bustle of the market reached them even from the road. But before they reached the gate, two guards blocked their way, throwing disdainful looks at them.

“Stop right there.” One of them examined them with contempt. “Where are you coming from?”

The oldest of the beggars tried to answer, but the soldier had already turned toward Ga-eun, who stood out among them for her fair skin and strange clothes. “And you? You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

Ga-eun tensed. “I’m just traveling with them. I suppose you’re the local police—I’m looking for a phone or a help post, I’m not looking for trouble.”

“We’ll see about that.” The guard smirked. “Don’t know what those fancy words mean, but if you want to enter, you’ve got to pay the passage tax.”

“Tax?” repeated the eldest beggar.

“Yes. A silver coin per head. Or something of value—whatever you’ve got.” The other guard had already stepped forward, shamelessly inspecting the beggars’ bags.

One of them protested but was shoved aside. Ga-eun was about to speak up, her patience wearing thin, when a calm voice interrupted.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” the young man said, softly but loud enough to be heard, “but… if I’m not mistaken, judging by the sun’s position, it must be almost noon, don’t you think?”

The guards looked at each other.

“Noon, you say?” asked one, confused.

The other suddenly seemed to realize something and warned his companion. “The inspector,” he whispered.

The young man nodded toward the wall. “Look at that man over there—doesn’t he have a rather peculiar outfit?” Indeed, in the distance, a figure wearing a more ornate cloak was walking toward the gate.

The two soldiers paled. The rumor about punishments for bribes and extortions was well-known. If the inspector saw them…

“You’re lucky,” one grumbled, stepping back. “Get in quickly before we change our minds., and welcome to Ajtenur”

The beggars didn’t need to be told twice. They rushed through the gate, muttering thanks. Ga-eun followed them, not taking her eyes off the young man.

Once inside, one of the beggars approached him gratefully. “Thank you, young man. If it weren’t for you, those dogs would’ve taken even our rags.”

He shrugged. “Just luck. I saw a guy with too many ornaments coming and guessed he was their boss.”

Ga-eun kept watching him, his indifference as he said such precise things… There was something in his tone—too casual—that made her think he was pretending.

The group slowly dispersed. Some headed for the markets, others to inns or to look for work. All of them said their goodbyes, thanking Ga-eun again for the food she had prepared days earlier. “If not in this life, then in the next,” said one, bowing clumsily.

She simply bowed back before finding herself alone before the city’s bustle.

The air changed. It no longer smelled of dust but of spices and sweat—the living pulse of the city. The shouts of merchants filled the air. There were strange fruits, sweet-scented spices, and fabrics so brightly colored they hurt the eyes. She tried asking for directions, but people avoided her as if she were invisible.

What’s wrong with them? There’s no reason to be so rude.

"Eh, you," she tried to grab a man by the shoulder while asking if he had a phone, but he merely pulled away and ran in the opposite direction.

Ga-eun, on the verge of losing her patience, saw the same guards walking down the street. Without thinking, she turned into an alley to avoid further trouble. She tried to take a deep breath—then heard a voice that made her spin around.

“Well, you don’t seem to be having such a bad time.”

Zafir was leaning against a barrel, arms crossed, wearing that infuriatingly calm smile.

“You!” Ga-eun jumped to her feet. “You left me stranded in the middle of the desert!”

“You exaggerate,” he replied with a careless gesture. “I told you I needed to rest. And look at you—you’ve reached a city. I call that progress. Keep it up.”

“Progress, my ass!” Ga-eun snapped. “You could’ve helped me—or at least warned me about something.”

“I helped you more than you think. Haven’t you wondered how you can understand these people? Or how they understand you?”

She fell silent, waiting for his answer.

“Being the holder of the djinn’s ring has its perks.” Zafir snapped his fingers, and a golden breeze swirled around him. “Understanding and speaking any language is one of them. Just like that little trick I did in your shed.”

“Cooking studio,” she corrected.

“Yeah, that—‘cooking studio.’ Those are skills that don’t take much magic.”

“I don’t care about that. I want to go home. I don’t know what remote corner of the world you’ve thrown me into, where people don’t even know what a phone is—but you’re getting me out of here, now. That’s my second wish.”

Zafir watched her calmly, then lifted his gaze to the sky. The moon was faintly visible—pale, almost transparent—among the clouds.

“I can’t.”

“What?”

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to do anything until the next full moon,” he said, walking slowly without taking his eyes off the sky. “In about twenty-nine days or so, when it reaches its peak, that’ll be the ideal moment for your next wish. Until then,” he sighed, “I’m afraid I only have enough power to let you understand others. That’s it.”

“You’re kidding me?” Ga-eun felt frustration boiling inside her, but she decided she’d had enough of him and tried to breathe deeply. “So I have to stay here… for an entire month… just because your energy depends on the moon?”

“That’s right. I thought you were smarter, Ga-eun. Did you think the energy came from me? Things would be much easier for both of us if that were the case, believe me. Seems we’re both stuck here until then,” he added. “Though at least you carry my portable home with you—that’s something.”

“I can’t believe this,” she said, turning her back on him. “I’m trying to stay sane, to move forward, and you just keep putting more obstacles in my way! I don’t want to be here! I want to go home, cook, work… live my life!”

Zafir listened in silence, unmoving. When she finished, he spoke in a low but steady voice. “Even if you went back,” he said, “you couldn’t cook properly for work—you said it yourself the other day, you still haven’t found that… feeling. So I think a warm vacation might actually do you some good.”

Before she could reply, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Everything all right?”

The young man the group of beggars had rescued from the desert was standing at the alley’s entrance, watching her with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Ga-eun blinked. “I’m just arguing with…” She stopped. Zafir was gone. She looked around, but there was no trace of the djinn.

“With who?” the young man raised an eyebrow.

“With no one.” She sighed. People passing by on the street looked at her with contempt and a hint of fear. “No one even talks to me here.”

“Maybe it’s that your clothes are too… unique. You don’t exactly blend in, you know.”

“Well, it’s a pretty normal uniform.”

“I don’t doubt it. I tried talking to you earlier, but you left too quickly. I know you’re trying to return home. I might know someone who could help you get back,” he said casually. “Consider it a favor in return for that meal you shared with us—and especially with me…”

Ga-eun looked at him, hesitating. There was still something strange and suspicious about him, but she had no other choice. “Fine,” she nodded. “I’ll follow you.” For now, he was the only person who didn’t seem to ignore her in this city—though she decided to stay alert for any odd behavior.

The prince smiled with an almost melancholic kindness, his face still covered in sand and dirt. “Then come. I promise you won’t get too lost.”

And together they left the alley, disappearing into the noise and lights of the market that was just beginning to awaken. Above them, the moon was barely a shadow in the sky, but its faint light seemed to promise something. Only twenty-nine days remained.