Sometimes I close my eyes and return to that moment. Time has passed so quickly that, even today, I find it hard to accept. Without stopping for a second, the days turned into weeks, the weeks into months... and, without realizing it, two years have already passed since Deto left.

  We haven't received a single piece of news from him. Anyone would think he's dead.

  But somehow, the money keeps arriving home. No letters, no sender, just the echo of his presence in those coins, as if they were a silent message: "I'm still here, don't forget me."

  Maybe it's naive, but that small spark of hope keeps us alive. Imagining that one day we'll sit down together at the table again, that we'll hear his laughter once more... it's the only thing that allows us to keep breathing. Because without that image in my mind, I'm afraid this house would come crashing down.

  The afternoon was falling over the small village. The smell of freshly baked bread mixed with the smoke from the chimneys. Inside the house, the silence seemed bigger since Deto had left.

  I ran through the living room with a stick in my hand, as if it were a sword.

  —En garde! I'm the great soldier Deto, protector of the village!

  Mom smiled tiredly while folding clothes.

  —Be careful, don't break another chair like last time.

  I puffed out my chest.

  —Soldiers don't break, Mom. I'm going to be stronger than Deto.

  Dad was sitting at the table, lighting his pipe.

  —No one is stronger than your brother... but I'm glad you want to be like him.

  Stolen story; please report.

  A brief silence filled the room. Zuna was sitting by the window, looking out at the street with her arms crossed.

  —I wish I could have said goodbye to him better... —she murmured in a low voice.

  Mom looked at her, noticing the melancholy in her voice, but before answering, Dad placed a small leather pouch on the table. The sound of coins echoed in the room.

  —It came again today. The money... again —Dad said.

  Mom was surprised.

  —From Deto? So soon?

  Dad shook his head, frowning.

  —I don't know. It doesn't come with a letter, or with an army seal. It just... appears.

  I stopped dead, still holding my stick-sword.

  —What if it's magic? Maybe Deto is already a hero and he's sending us treasures!

  Zuna turned, with a mix of tenderness and unease in her gaze.

  —Magic doesn't exist, idiot.

  I looked at her annoyed and raised the stick-sword, posing like a hero.

  —Whatever. Look at me! I'm Deto, the strongest soldier of all.

  Zuna rolled her eyes, with half a smile.

  —More like "Deto, the scarecrow with a broomstick."

  I frowned.

  —It's not a broom, it's a legendary sword!

  Zuna raised an eyebrow, amused.

  —Uh-huh... and the legend says it's for sweeping the floor?

  I gave her a gentle tap on the leg.

  —Shut up! When Deto comes back, I'm going to be his squire.

  Zuna bent down a little, looking at me closely with mockery.

  —Squire... more like you're going to be his pack mule.

  I crossed my arms, indignant.

  —Well, I'd rather be a mule than a bitter old woman like you.

  Zuna opened her mouth, surprised, and then let out a brief laugh.

  —You have a sharp tongue, dwarf. But remember I'm stronger than you and besides I'm the one who washes your clothes... I can shrink them all if I want.

  With fake bravery I replied:

  —Then I'll walk around naked like a savage warrior!

  We stared at each other until Zuna let out another laugh, shaking her head.

  —You're unbearable... just like Deto.

  Silence returned to the house, but less heavy than before. Outside, the wind blew against the windows as if it too were bringing a message no one dared to listen to.

  It was then, on one of those sunsets that seemed to promise nothing, that something happened that would change my life forever.

  Near the entrance, right at the end of the bridge that connected the village to the nation, a group of figures slowly made their way forward. They were badly wounded, covered in dust and with lost looks, as if they had escaped from creatures that should never have existed.