I meet a girl with the same circumstance as me—such a small world. She has hair that seems yellow, white as snow—different from the white of this country, more tan—sun-kissed. She is incredibly white, like her skin has never seen the sun, but her hands say otherwise—callused like mine.
I met her in the lounge of this rundown inn—I can say it is incredibly luxurious even for me, in the remains of this country and my life. She says she’s from Europa—I wouldn’t even know what she told me.
Her guide translates for her as we get to know each other. My guide seems to have a solemn face when—she talks happily—something about her country. Her guide had such a surprised face, a hint of abhorrence in their eyes. What did she say?
Arryav looks worried for her. What did she say that’s so detestable, even for someone as open-minded as the guides?
He asks something to her guide. “Peace,” I hear. I only recognize this one word. Peace? How do you bring peace to such a broken continent as Europa—different kingdoms and nations that all point to a single solution for them: war?
Does she speak about bringing peace to her home continent after this sacrifice? If she leaves after the sacrifice?
She will stay alive after one person sacrifices themselves. But why is she saying this? Does she not realize that puts a target on her back?
I have heard her introduction by the guide from the beginning. Same as me, they say. A commoner and a peasant. She couldn’t understand what the guide said. It seemed this guide is a higher-ranking person. She hails from a farmer family, from a country named Lechia. They started their journey months ago.
It seems that Arryav is on guard against the other guide. I also am. If something happens to this girl, I wonder how I will react.
I smile—it seems I have to help a peer with their guide and it seems a peer who will accompany me on this journey.
