That night felt like a tomb for Entya’s heart. She hid behind a ger. Through a gap in the stack of firewood, she could vaguely make out the shadows of a few Salkha warriors arguing in front of the dwelling. Their voices were hoarse and laden with doubt.

"Do you truly believe it was necessary to restrain Yul so harshly?" asked one warrior, his tone heavy.

"We had no choice; he kept raging," the other replied, trying to convince himself. "But he is our comrade, our sworn brother, a true hero."

"A hero, yes, but one who openly challenged the Elder and the Talrakia Commander," the third voice countered, cold and final.

Entya’s face was grim. She remembered Elder Eldeghai, who had now chosen to appease the foreign commander and imprison Yul for the clan's safety. The betrayal felt sharper than a knife.

Entya had to see him. One last time.

With her small body, she moved with the light steps of a shadow. She avoided the weary guards until she reached the storage ger where Yul was being held.

She slipped inside. The scent of damp earth mingled with the aroma of blood and despair greeted her. There, in the gloom, she found Yul. Her childhood friend, the man who had taught her archery and riding, now sat on the dirty floor, embracing his defeat. Yul was tied behind his back to the ger's main support pole, his wrists raw and bleeding, his face smudged and etched with disappointment. His eyes, usually radiating determination, now showed the pain of being betrayed by his own comrades.

"Yul," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Yul turned his head. His sky-blue eyes, now shaded with sorrow, met Entya’s tear-swollen larimar gaze. For a moment, the world around them vanished. There was only the two of them, trapped in the painful silence. But then, shame burned Yul's face. He lowered his gaze, unable to meet Entya’s stare. He, the brave warrior, had failed to protect her.

"Don't go, Entya," he hissed, his voice hoarse and desperate. "Don't go with him."

Entya shook her head slowly, a bitter smile twisting her lips. "Go where, Yul? Hide in the mountains? Live life on the run, constantly pursued?"

"We can go far away. To a place where no one knows us," Yul pleaded, his voice now filled with desperation. His blue eyes, usually sharp, now begged painfully. He tried to lunge forward but was stopped by the rope that bit into his arms. The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony gnawing at his soul. "Since I first opened my eyes in this village, my memory begins only with you, Entya. If you leave... what will be left of me? You are my entire world."

Those words, which should have been sweet and comforting, felt instead like a dagger plunging into Entya’s heart. Entya was his memory, not his future.

"I need to know one thing, Yul," Entya whispered, her voice trembling but now more determined. She stepped closer, looking straight into his tearful eyes, searching for the truth. "Just one thing before I leave forever."

She took a deep breath, gathering the last shreds of courage hidden behind her brave girl mask. "Do you love me?"

The silence that followed was painful. In the darkness, every beat of Entya's heart felt like a hammer striking.

"Answer me, Yul," she insisted, her voice breaking, demanding an answer she knew might destroy her. "As a woman. Not as a little sister you must guard. Not as the orphan you pity. Do you love me?"

The question hit Yul like a storm. His heart screamed, YES! YES, I LOVE YOU MORE THAN MY OWN BREATH! He wanted to embrace her, to crush that doubt with a kiss he had repressed for years. He wanted to tell her that he dreamed of her face every night.

But his mouth remained locked.

How can I speak of love? his mind screamed, cursing himself. How can I look at that small body, the purity in her eyes, and utter those selfish words? A man's love for a woman? That would make me a monster. A predator preying on her innocence. I cannot... I will not defile you like that.

The love in his heart fiercely warred with the guilt that choked him. He looked at Entya, and what he saw was something sacred, something to be protected, even from himself. He feared that if he confessed his feelings, he would taint her purity, trapping her in a bond he couldn't fulfill with her immature body. He feared the judgment of society, the pitying looks, the bitter reality he couldn't change.

He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a choked sound, a deadly silence, an unspoken rejection.

Entya laughed. A soundless laugh that was sharper than a blade, a laugh that tore the remnants of her heart to pieces. Her last hope was extinguished, turning into cold ash.

"You couldn't even lie for me," she whispered, her eyes now empty and lifeless. "My guess was right. All this time, I was just a burden you had to protect, not someone you desired."

"It's more complicated than that, Entya—"

"Then what is it?!" she cried out, tears finally streaming down. All the emotional dams she had held back collapsed. "I spent every night dreaming of the day I would finally grow up. The day you would finally see me. Not as a child, but as a woman. I imagined our marriage, our children... I hoped that one day, you would love me."

She wiped away her tears, a new resolve beginning to form behind her sorrow. "How foolish I was. That dream... was mine alone."

Entya looked at Yul one last time, carving his suffering face into her memory. She let their gazes meet, an unspoken farewell, a vow never made. "Goodbye, Yul."

She turned around. One step. Two steps. Then she ran out the ger door, heedless of the standing guards.

"ENTYA!"

Yul lunged forward, trying to chase her, but the ropes on his arms violently yanked him back, making him collapse onto the dirt floor. His wrists were raw and bloody, yet he felt no pain.

"ENTYA, DON'T GO!" he screamed, his voice hoarse with despair. He futilely tugged at his hands.

"PLEASE, ENTYA! DON'T LEAVE ME!"

But Entya did not turn back. She kept running, tears blinding her, leaving Yul there, tangled by his ropes, roaring into the silence that was now his eternal prison.

The confrontation with Yul, that unspoken rejection, shattered her love. Entya wiped her tears with a renewed determination. She would go. Not as a coerced victim, not as a desperate runaway, and certainly not because Yul had never truly loved her. She would go to learn. To master the power within her, so she would no longer be a burden, so she would no longer be ashamed of her body. She would acquire a power that ensured her capacity to love and be loved on her own terms, free from this unbearable pain.