PREVIEW

... llage of love, other side stalls.

As we returned to the village, something about the air felt different. The wind carried laughter, distant music fluttered like warm petals in spring, and dozens of vibrant stalls had popped up like wildflowers—each one colorful and shimmering under the mellow golden sun.

Travelers, merchants, and adventurers bustled through the street, their cloaks swaying as children tugged along their parents, cheeks flushed with festival joy.

...

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Life from birth has been nothing but hell. I lost my parents to some stupid aristocrats whom they offended. Executed for no good reason.

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“Haven’t I suffered enough? Can’t I just rest?” I cried out. Why would I want to stay back in such a cruel world?

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