Junah was seven when her life quietly shattered.
It happened on an ordinary afternoon in the quiet village she called home — or rather, the place where Mirna lived, complained, and scolded while Junah stood by with the face of a calm rock.
A woman arrived that day.
Not a villager — her clothes were too clean, her steps too confident, her voice too polished.
Mirna froze the moment she saw her.
Junah watched from behind a half-broken barrel, her expression blank, but inside her head her tiny inner self was whispering:
Oho? Suspicious adult enters the scene? Plot twist? Lore drop?
The two women spoke in hushed tones by the well.
Mirna's face went pale.
The stranger's voice was urgent.
Junah couldn't hear the words, but she saw the moment her mother's knees weakened.
She saw the trembling hands.
She saw the way Mirna wiped her tears with the back of her wrist — something she never did, not even on her worst days.
That night, Junah watched from behind the doorway as her mother packed her belongings.
No hesitation.
No glance toward Junah's room.
No soft goodbye.
Just quiet packing… and walking away with the stranger into the darkness.
Junah didn't step out.
She didn't call her mother.
She didn't cry.
Outside, she stayed emotionless.
Inside, her mental cartoon self dramatically clutched her chest, fainted, revived, shouted "WHAT THE HELLY—", then fainted again.
But outwardly, all she said was:
"…Well …okay."
She waited.
Mirna didn't return the next day.
Or the day after.
Or the week after.
Junah hunted fish from the river with makeshift traps. She slept in the abandoned house with a blanket she stitched from torn cloth. She practiced her strange, instinctive, chantless magic to pass the time. Days became months.
One year passed.
Still no Mirna.
The house felt like a tomb of echoes and silence — until Junah built something new.
A little magical tool of her own:
A carved wooden charm, infused with her magic, that would glow if a human presence entered its vicinity. She planted it inside the doorway.
If Mirna ever returned… the charm would tell her.
Then, with nothing left tying her here, Junah stepped onto the dirt road at age eight and walked away from the village — expression calm, steps slow and steady.
Inside her mind, she saluted dramatically:
Goodbye, childhood. Time to speedrun life.
She began wandering the world alone.
Wild monsters?
She dodged them.
Goblins?
She bonked them with levitated rocks.
Orks?
She ran. (She has see enough thing on the internet.)
Weeks turned into months.
Her chill face rarely cracked.
Her inside-comic self suffered daily
And then one day — when she was nine — she met the woman who would change everything.
Junah was eating roasted mushrooms over a tiny campfire when she heard footsteps approaching.
She turned her head slightly.
A woman in her mid-30s stepped out of the bushes, wearing a teal cloak, a messy ponytail, a half-torn spellbook strapped to her belt… and the most tired "I swear I didn't mean to get lost" expression.
"Ah! Didn't mean to scare you, i was just talking a shortcut as you can see.. hehe" the woman said cheerfully.
Junah just stared at her and a slight nod "hmm.." she said while still munching her mushroom
the woman continued "Name's Deliah Von Parnorac. But everyone calls me Keychain."
"Keychain?" Junah echoed.
"When I was young, I carried way too many keys on this side."
She gestured at her left hip.
"They jingled everywhere I went. Soooo… people give me the nickname Keychain. and..... the nickname stuck till this day. I regret everything."
Junah nodded once, expression neutral.
Inside, her mental self was dying of laughter.
KEYCHAIN?? AMAZING OHO! WHY DO ADULTS NAME EACH OTHER LIKE NPCS FROM A SATIRE GAME??
"And you?" Keychain asked with a warm smile. "What's your name, kid?"
Junah paused.
Inside, she whispered to herself:
"Junah died that night when that woman left, I mean any seven year old would have died being left alone on that place. THE Junah died that day so I'll be a new ME".
Out loud, she said:
"Sairih Lutharia."
Keychain blinked. "Pretty name. Where are your parents?"
"I don't know." Junah answer flatly
"You don't know? did you mean you lost or seperated from them?" Keychain ask, confused
"Not really"
"What's your parents names?" Keychain asked, concerned
"I don't know" Junah answered with a chill expression, as far as she remembered, her mother never actually said her name in front of Junah so she never knows hee mother's name and just called her "mother"
The truth hurt, but she said it as casually as if she were commenting on the weather.
Keychain's face softened.
A sadness bloomed in her eyes.
"…Come with me," she said gently. "It's dangerous out here alone."
"Sure."
Just like that — no drama, no hesitation — Sairih joined her.
Inside, her mental self was flipping through a checklist:
Stranger danger? ✔️
Is she sus? ✔️
Do I still go with her? ✔️
Why? Because staying alone sucks. Next question.
And so their journey together began.