Something inside her felt strangely heavy.
The speaker waited until the laughter faded.
Then he spread both arms toward the royal palace overlooking the city.
"But our kingdom did not fall."
His voice thundered across the square.
"For when one king abandoned the crown..."
"...another chose to bear it."
The drums rolled.
Royal banners unfurled from the surrounding buildings.
Golden confetti drifted through the air.
"Our beloved sovereign!"
"His Majesty, King Eliodan Aurelius Balder!"
"The king who gathered a shattered army..."
"...led the final charge..."
"...drove back the southern invaders..."
"...and secured the peace we still cherish today!"
The square erupted.
"Long live the King!"
"Long live His Majesty!"
"Long live the savior!"
The cheers became deafening.
Sikakama glanced around.
Every face shone with admiration.
Every voice praised the reigning king as though no greater hero had ever lived.
Slowly, she turned back toward the ruined monument.
Rotten yolk dripped from the stone warrior's chin.
Tomato skins clung to the weathered armor.
The birds that had perched upon it only moments ago had already taken flight.
Her gaze settled upon the great sword held firmly in the statue's hands.
Despite everything...
It still looked magnificent.
Still looked...
Real.
Sikakama quietly turned away.
"And now..."
The master of ceremonies' voice echoed across the square once more.
"A tale every child in Solarian knows."
"The tale of the legendary sword."
She froze.
Slowly...
She turned in place.
Her blue eyes lifted toward the stage once again.
The legendary sword.
A trumpet sounded.
The curtains parted.
A trembling king stumbled onto the stage as laughter rippled through the audience.
Moments later, a knight marched in, carrying an ornate sword in both hands.
Sikakama's heart skipped a beat.
The scabbard gleamed beneath the morning sun.
The hilt looked ancient.
For a fleeting instant...
It looked real.
The knight knelt.
"Your Majesty."
"The legendary sword."
"The blade destined to save the kingdom."
The false king grimaced.
"Oh... must I?"
With theatrical reluctance, he grasped the hilt.
Very slowly...
He drew the sword.
The blade slid free—
Wood.
Painted silver.
Crooked.
A knot in the middle made it look even more ridiculous.
The square erupted with laughter.
The king stared at it in disbelief.
"This is the legendary sword?"
He gave it a single swing.
The wooden blade wobbled limply through the air.
More laughter.
Then—
Crack.
The blade snapped cleanly in half.
Children doubled over laughing.
The king tossed the broken sword aside.
"If this is the kingdom's greatest treasure..."
He brushed the dust from his sleeves.
"...I'd rather fight with a broom."
Thunderous applause echoed across the square.
Sikakama didn't laugh.
Her eyes remained fixed on the broken wooden sword.
The hope that had drawn her back to the stage quietly faded.
Even here...
The legendary sword existed only as a joke.
She lowered her gaze.
Turned away once more.
Suddenly—
A small figure burst through the crowd.
Fast.
Far too fast.
He slipped effortlessly between the adults, weaving through narrow gaps with the ease of someone who had done it a hundred times before.
One moment he was there...
The next he had vanished behind someone else.
A furious shout erupted from somewhere behind him.
"Stop him!"
"Thief!"
A city guard forced his way through the crowd, answering the merchant's cries.
The boy glanced back over his shoulder.
And because he wasn't looking where he was going—
He crashed straight into Sikakama.
The impact sent them both stumbling.
He lost his footing and fell onto the cobblestones, his worn cloth bag slipping from his grasp.
Apples scattered across the street.
He immediately dropped to his knees, gathering them with trembling hands.
Sikakama looked down at the boy.
He seemed younger than she was.
A worn brown cap rested low over his forehead, hiding most of his eyes beneath its brim. An oversized coat hung loosely from his narrow shoulders, making him appear even smaller.
The only feature she could clearly make out was the small mole beneath his left eye.
"There he is!"
The guard was getting closer.
Without hesitation, Sikakama seized the boy by the wrist.
"Run."
She pulled him to his feet.
Sikakama led the way, her black hair streaming behind her as she tightened her grip on his wrist. Milo followed in silence, unable to believe what was happening. Somehow, he found himself watching only the girl pulling him forward.
Together they slipped into the crowd, weaving between startled pedestrians until they disappeared behind an old stone wall.
The guard rushed past without noticing them.
Only then did Sikakama release his wrist.
Her eyes fell upon the cloth bag still clutched in his hands.
Without a word, she took it from him and turned back toward the fruit stall.
His eyes widened.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm taking it back."
His face drained of color.
"Are you crazy?"
"You can't go back there!"
She gave no reply.
He could only stare after her in disbelief.
"...No..."
But she was already gone.
Sikakama approached the fruit stall and stopped before it.
Suddenly—
The merchant's rough hand clamped around her wrist and jerked her toward him.
"I've got you!"
His face burned crimson with rage, like a predator that had finally caught its prey.
"I was only returning—"
"Returning?"
He let out a mocking laugh.
"You thieves always have a story."
He snatched the bag from her hand.
"So you're the other thief!"
He turned toward the square and roared,
"Guards!"
"I've caught the thief!"
His sweaty grip tightened painfully around her wrist.
Only then did Sikakama realize the predicament she had walked into.
From behind the stone wall, Milo watched everything.
Guilt twisted inside his chest.
He reached into his oversized coat and pulled out a single match.
Keeping low, he slipped silently behind the merchant's legs.
He struck the match against the stone.
A tiny flame sprang to life.
Without hesitating, he touched it to the cuff of his own trousers.
The fabric caught almost instantly.
The moment the heat reached his leg, he let out a startled yelp and began hopping wildly as the flames spread.
"My leg!"
The merchant instinctively released Sikakama and rushed toward the frantic boy.
He grabbed a nearby bucket of water and plunged his burning leg into it.
Before Sikakama could even understand what had happened—
A small hand seized hers.
"Come on!"
The boy pulled her away, and together they disappeared into the maze of streets.
He darted into a narrow passage squeezed between the back walls of two buildings, barely wide enough for a child to pass sideways. At the far end, a jumble of crates and broken barrels made it seem like a dead end. He dropped to one knee, shoved aside a small crate, and revealed a narrow opening beneath a low stone arch.
"Crawl."
He slipped through first. Sikakama followed without hesitation. They crawled one after the other through the cramped passage until it opened into a secluded courtyard hidden behind the surrounding buildings.
He scratched the side of his nose with his thumb, sounding far more confident than his age suggested.
"They won't find us here."
A loud growl came from Sikakama's stomach.
It sounded almost as though it were trying to devour itself.
He reached into the inside pocket of his coat.
He pulled out a single apple.
He tossed it toward her.
She caught it with both hands and stared at it.
"I managed to keep this one," the boy said with a grin.
Sikakama looked from the apple to Milo.
"Go on."
"One won't hurt."
The apple was bright red, its skin polished and fresh.
Her hunger finally overcame her hesitation.
She raised it to her lips and took a bite.
It was sweeter than she had expected.
He smiled.
"I'm Milo."
He held out his hand.
She looked at him for a moment before answering quietly,
"I'm Sikakama."
"Sikakama... that's all?"
Milo asked, blinking in surprise.
She nodded once.
Something clicked in his mind.
A small smile spread across his face.
"Then..."
"You don't have parents either."
Sikakama looked up.
"...What?"
Milo shrugged.
"People around here who don't have a family name..."
"...usually don't have a family."
He smiled again.
"...just like me."