Kelen looked like a piece of laundry that had been dragged through the street, dipped in mud, then hung out to dry badly. His hair stood in different directions, dust caked his cheeks, and his once-dark tunic now looked like something a farmer would throw out. He stumbled into Jinsha late that night, feet sore, stomach growling like a wild dog.

The village was quiet, but not asleep. The people were gathered in the square, seated on low stools and blankets, watching a stage play lit by lanterns swaying in the night wind. The actor on stage wore bright makeup, red paint on his cheeks, and a big fake beard. His robe was blue with wide sleeves, and every gesture made the crowd laugh.

Kelen crouched low, hiding behind a stack of baskets. He leaned forward to get a better look, head stretched out, his butt sticking up in the air like he was doing some sort of bad prayer position.

One of the guards spotted him.

Before Kelen could blink, a hard slap landed on the back of his head.

He yelped, jumped, arms flailing like a startled chicken. In his panic, he knocked over the lantern stand holding the stage lights. The flames went out. Darkness.

“Who is that?!” someone yelled.

The actor froze mid-sentence. Mothers hushed their children. Then the man on stage waved everyone off. “That’s enough for tonight! Go home!”

Before Kelen could escape, two guards grabbed him, one holding his arm like a sack of rice, the other dragging him like he weighed nothing.

Inside the big hut, the guards dropped him on the floor. He rolled a little, groaned, then lay still like a man who had no bones left.

He raised one finger weakly. “I want to see your chief. I want to see your chief...”

From the back, a man appeared tall, lean, still in costume but now removing his fake beard.

Kelen blinked. “Wait... you were the man on the stage?”

The chief didn’t smile. His face was stone.

“Why are you looking for me?” he asked in a calm voice that didn’t match his hard eyes.

Kelen opened his mouth, then clutched his stomach. “Before I talk... I need food. Please. I’m starving.”

The guards looked at each other.

The chief stared at Kelen for a moment, then nodded once. “Bring him food.”

A whole roasted chicken was placed in front of him. Kelen attacked it like a wild animal. He didn’t care who was watching, he chewed, tore, sucked the bones. At some point, he even tried to hide a leg in his sleeve.

When he was done, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up straight like someone reborn.

“I’m here to save my young mistress!” he announced, voice loud.

The chief blinked. “Your... mistress?”

“Yes!” Kelen stepped forward, chest out. “You kidnapped her on the way to her wedding. You and your men!”

The chief raised a brow. “Maybe... you’ve come to the wrong place.” He spoke slowly, like he was reciting a poem.

“No. You took her! I saw it myself!”

There was a pause.

Then the chief said, “You must be in love with her.”

The guards laughed.

Kelen gave them a sharp look. “She’s my mistress. I’ve served her since I was Younger. I would die before I let her get hurt.”

“Die?” the chief repeated.

“I’m not afraid.”

The chief turned away. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m tired.”

“You can’t marry her!” Kelen shouted after him. “She’s betrothed. If you marry her, you’ll die young. That’s what the elders say!”

The chief paused. Turned slightly. Smiled.

Then left.

Kelen sat down beside his leftover chicken and chewed slowly, still watching the guards.

“Eat well,” one guard said, laughing. “You’ll need the strength.”

---

Morning came with a bang.

Vela was brought out, wrapped in her bridal robe, hair messy, face pale but eyes sharp. The guards stood in a line, straight as sticks.

Kelen jumped up the moment he saw her.

“Young mistress!”

He tried to run to her but was yanked back by two guards. He struggled, but they held him like a child.

Vela’s eyes widened when she saw him. “You! why are you here?”

The chief stepped forward. He clapped once. A guard brought out a small wooden stool and a plate with water.

Another guard came out, leading a skinny dog on a rope.

Kelen and Vela looked at each other, confused.

The chief bent down and gave the dog the water. It drank eagerly. Within seconds, the dog stumbled, staggered, then fell to its side, still.

Kelen’s eyes widened. “Poison...”

The chief stood. His voice was no longer calm.

“You said you’re loyal,” he said. “Let’s see.”

The guards laughed again.

“This water is poison. If you drink it, you die. But I’ll let her go.”

“Don’t!” Vela shouted. “Kelen, don’t do it!”

Kelen didn’t wait.

He grabbed the bowl and drank every drop.

Vela screamed.

Everyone held their breath.

But nothing happened.

Kelen stood, wiped his mouth, and looked around. “Hmm... tastes like river water.”

The guards burst into laughter.

The chief stepped closer, his face unreadable. “You’re loyal. I see that now.”

He turned to Vela. “This man, your servant, is not ordinary. Don’t ever treat him like one.”

He raised his hand. “Let them go. Escort them back safely.”

Two guards stepped forward and nodded. “We’ll take you. You’re welcome to visit again,” one said to Kelen, grinning.

As they walked out, Vela moved closer to Kelen, tears still in her eyes.

“You idiot,” she whispered. “You could’ve died.”

He didn’t look at her.

“I would’ve done it again,” he said.

They left Jinsha at sunrise. The hills stretched before them. The road home would be long.

But not quiet.

Not anymore.