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... around his waist and a little cloth bag on his back. Although it was dark, his golden hair gleamed brightly.


“Who are you?” Rody was nervous and on guard. His body was taut, all ready to rush forward.


“Relax!” The man smiled. He did not look old. “In fact, I am the one who should be asking that. Who are you?” His voice was slow. “This is my home!”


“Your home?” Rody was a bit confused.


"Of course!" The man smiled and moved two steps closer. The moon ...

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It was a cold and lonely death on the battlefield despite the thousands of warriors around me and the beating sun shining upon my corpse.

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The country girl, Emily, was an orphan. She survived off the scraps that she could find from families around her. Every one of them despised her.

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