"Come on, Mom! You can do it!"
My voice rose louder than the others, even though I was tiny in the middle of that enormous crowd. My little hands drummed on the wooden railing, my feet swung in the air as if I could send her my greedy energy just by kicking my legs.
In the arena, Mom was shining. Not like a princess or a fairytale heroine… no. She shone like a flame refusing to die out. Every sword strike, every dodge, even the way she frowned when dust stung her eyes… it all fascinated me.
People around shouted insults, bets, encouragements. Me, I had only one word: "Mom!" And sometimes, I swore she heard me.
I leaned forward a little more, trying to catch a glimpse of her face through the sparks crackling around the fighters. My heart pounded fast, but not from fear—admiration. If she won, everything would be fine. If she won, it meant I was safe, and it meant I'd be very well fed.
Mmm, food—I love it!
A massive man shoved me with his elbow to get a better view. I squinted, rubbing my sore cheek, but I didn't step back.
"Go on! Go on! You're the strongest!"
I slammed my fist against the railing. The crowd began to press harder, everyone jostling like starving animals desperate not to miss a thing. The wood creaked beneath our feet.
Someone stumbled into me. Then another. I was crushed between two chests, my breath cut off. I tried to cry out, but my voice drowned in the roar.
And suddenly, the ground vanished beneath my feet.
Bam.
I sat up at once, grimacing, rubbing my head.
"Ouch! That hurts! Stupid floor…"
I lifted my eyes, ready to yell at the ones who had pushed me. But… there was no one left.
The stands were empty. Completely. Not a spectator, not a cry, not a single breath. Only the sound of my own footsteps when I pushed myself up.
"…Huh?"
I blinked, stunned. The place that only seconds ago had overflowed with life was now deserted. Flags hung limp, benches lay overturned, and the silence… the silence weighed heavier than my fall.
"…Mom?" I whispered, my voice trembling.
But no answer came.
I rubbed my eyes with my sleeve. No, this wasn't possible. They couldn't have just vanished. A moment ago, there had been shouting, singing, the smell of sweat and dust… now, nothing.
My heart was beating too fast. I took a step, then another, my hands clutched to my chest. Every sound I made echoed like thunder.
"Is anyone there?" My voice shook on its own. "Heeey… stop hiding, this isn't funny!"
No response.
I broke into a run toward the stands, tripping over a broken plank. I grabbed the railing, but the benches were empty, the cushions overturned, even the beer mugs looked as though they had dried out in an instant.
"…Mom?"
The word burned my throat.
I curled up against the wood, my legs pulled in close. My shoulders shook on their own. My eyes stung, but I tried not to cry. Mom had told me I had to be strong. But Mom wasn't here.
A sound. A rustle behind me.
I jerked my head up. "Who's there?!"
Nothing. Just a shadow that had moved. A shadow that shouldn't exist, because there was no one left.
My teeth chattered by themselves. I was cold. Suddenly, so very cold.
"I want to go home…"
And then, far away, I saw a figure. Tall, blurry, motionless, at the end of the aisle.
I clenched my fists. That figure out there was moving, slowly, as if it were waiting for me. Without thinking, I ran. My footsteps clattered on the stone, my ragged breathing echoed in the too-wide silence.
"Wait!"
The farther I ran, the farther the figure drifted away. My heart pounded in my chest—not from the effort, but from the fear swelling in my stomach. Why was I alone? Where had everyone gone? Where was Mom?
I stumbled onto a wide street and stopped, breathless.
There, right in front of me, something appeared. Like a dream forcing itself into my eyes. Market stalls, colorful, overflowing with fruits and vegetables. People laughed, chatted, haggled. I blinked, mouth open.
"Finally! I'm not alone after all!"
And in the middle… a woman. A woman holding my hand. Me. Smaller, even younger than now, tripping at every step. She gently helped me up, then lifted me in her arms. She smiled. Her smile… it hurt, because it was so beautiful, and I had never seen it before.
I stretched out a trembling hand. "…Mom?"
But already, the scene faded. The laughter died. The stalls emptied. Only the wind remained, pushing dust along the ground.
"No!" I cried, running again, tears blurring my sight. "Wait for me!"
I heard noises again, further ahead. I turned into an alley.
A small room, a wobbly table. A man laughed while raising a mug. A woman served a steaming bowl. And a tiny little girl—me again—clapped her hands and giggled. It was simple, poor… but happy.
I stopped, breathless, my legs trembling. I wanted to stay there. I wanted to step inside, sit at that table, feel the warmth of that meal.
But the light went out. The house turned empty again.
I pressed my hands against my face. "Why… why don't I remember?!"
I ran again, my steps pounding like drums. At every corner, the figure guided me, pulling me forward.
And suddenly…
A paved courtyard. Children. Laughter. A messy-haired little girl—me again—chasing a rag ball. Two boys laughed with her, fighting to steal the toy. She fell, scraped her knee, but instead of crying, she burst out laughing.
My hand flew to my mouth. I had never known I once had… friends. Childhood friends.
The scene went on. The children hid behind a well, scaring each other, laughing out loud. Little Linie stomped her foot and shouted that she had won. The boys pretended to sulk, then offered her a piece of dry bread like it was treasure. She broke it in three.
Tears streamed down my cheeks. I wanted to run to them. I wanted to play too. But already, the ball rolled out of sight, and with it, everything vanished.
I stayed there, shaking hands at my sides. The children's laughter still rang in my ears as the courtyard turned gray and empty again. My heart ached as though someone were crushing it. I wanted to scream, but no sound came.
So I kept running. Because if I stopped, I was afraid everything would vanish forever.
At every corner, another scene.
In another alley, I saw them again. Mom and Dad. Not smiling this time. They spoke fast, sharp.
"…it's dangerous, too dangerous…"
"…we can't stay here forever…"
Their faces were hard. Mom kept glancing over her shoulder as though someone was listening. Dad clenched his fist, his eyes locked on an invisible horizon.
I begged them: "Stop talking like that! Please!" But my words scattered into the wind. They couldn't hear me.
The figures dissolved once again.
I collapsed to my knees. My palms burned against the stone, my eyes filled with tears. But I pushed myself up. I was afraid, so afraid, but I didn't want to lose them. Not again.
So I ran.
This time it was the main square. Dad was strapping on armor too heavy for him, dented, ill-fitting. He tried to smile, but his eyes were full of fear. Mom's hands trembled as she tied a small talisman around his neck. Little Linie—me—screamed, arms outstretched, begging him not to go.
I pressed my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming. My legs refused to move. I wanted to run, to throw myself at him, but I knew it was useless. He was only a shadow.
Dad bent down, kissed the baby's head—my head. Then he straightened, turned his back, and vanished into the fog.
"…Dad…" The word slipped out. It was the first time I had ever said it.
I ran again, tears clouding my vision. I wanted to catch him. I wanted to shout for him to stay. And suddenly, around the corner, I saw him again.
He wasn't in the city anymore.
Before him stretched a gray plain, whipped by the wind. Distant cries echoed, like shadows of war. Other men walked beside him, all armed, all exhausted. They marched forward, gripping their spears, never looking back.
I froze. My heart beat so hard I thought it would burst.
Then chaos.
A roar, figures rising out of the dust, steel clashing, screams. The men fought—badly, too badly. Dad raised his sword, his hand shaking. He fought anyway.
I saw him push back one attack, then another… but he wasn't strong enough. A brutal blow hurled him to the ground. He forced himself up one last time, fingers clutching the talisman Mom had given him. His eyes shone with fear laced with courage. He turned his head for a second, as if he wanted to see us again. Then he shouted something I couldn't understand before the battle swallowed him whole.
The scene shattered.
I stopped dead, my legs weak. My breath caught in my throat.
"Dad…" I whispered, but this time it was a useless word. A word too late.
I cried as I ran. I wanted to see my mother again.
The last time I saw her, she was holding the little one close, sitting in a dark house. Shutters closed. Her eyes red, her face weary. She whispered a prayer I couldn't understand. She stroked my hair as if it were the last time.
Then, a dull sound. Three knocks at the door. Her head snapped up. Her lips trembled. She hugged the baby against her with all her strength.
Her eyes fixed on the door. A tear slid down her cheek. Her lips moved again: "Not my daughter… I beg you…"
The scene cut away, brutally.
I was left alone, in the middle of the empty street. My legs gave out. I fell to my knees, tears striking the stone.
"You… left me…" My voice broke.
The wind swept by, carrying the dust, carrying my sobs.
They were dead. Him in battle, her after… or maybe at the same time. I didn't know. I had never had the chance to know them. And yet… I had seen them. They had existed. They had loved me.
I lifted my head, cheeks wet, fists clenched.
I was alone. But now I knew I came from somewhere.
And, for the first time, I felt the burning in my heart:
I never wanted to lose the people I loved again.
But the city was not done.
As I staggered forward, another vision took shape. Not of my parents this time. Other children. Friends?
I saw them running around a well, playing hide-and-seek, squabbling over a shiny pebble. A little Linie laughed with them, simple joy in her eyes. They shared dry bread, fought over an apple. It was so alive I forgot to breathe.
Then one of them whispered:
"…They say there's a war outside."
"Shh, don't say that!" the other replied with a nervous laugh.
Even the ghosts fell silent. And when I reached out my hand to join them, they all vanished.
I stood trembling, feeling as if the whole world was collapsing.
I kept moving. My breath was ragged, my legs numb, my eyes burning. Every empty street weighed on me like a grave. But I understood now.
I had once had a family. I had once had friends. All swallowed by the war, by that outside world I didn't understand.
And me… I had nothing left.
Except Mom.
Not the real one. Not the one who had given birth to me. But the one fighting there, in the arena. The one shining like a flame.
I straightened, fists clenched.
I didn't know what I was going to become. But one thing was certain: I would never again let anyone tear away the people I loved.