At that moment I approached close enough for Elma to feel my presence.
I didn't touch her right away; I didn't want to scare her or break that fragile instant in which the pain still floated in the air like frost.
She turned slowly toward me, with watery eyes, red, swollen from so much crying. Her trembling hands still tried to cover her face, as if hiding her eyes could also hide the sadness.
—… Mother… mother is gone… and father too… —she murmured with a broken voice—. Elma… Elma is completely alone right now… there's no one by Elma's side…
Each word fell like a stone on my chest.
I wanted to say something.
I really wanted to. I searched for phrases, promises, heroic comforts… but I found nothing.
Because there were no words capable of filling a void like that. There were no speeches that could give back what she had lost. In that instant I understood something cruel: sometimes pain doesn't need answers, just company.
So, without knowing what to do, without thinking more, I extended my arms.
I wrapped her in a firm, sincere hug, as if with that I could hold her so she wouldn't break.
At first her body tensed, but little by little it gave in. Her shoulders began to shake and, finally, everything she had held in came out at once.
She cried.
She cried without shame, without restraint, soaking my armor with her tears. I didn't move. I didn't say anything. I just stayed there, being an improvised refuge.
—Ahh… was I a good daughter…?
She said it between sobs, with a voice so small it hurt to hear.
Her hands clung tightly to the back of my armor, as if afraid I would disappear too if she let go.
I didn't respond. Not because I didn't want to, but because any answer would have been insufficient. Instead, I tightened the hug a little more, hoping that gesture would speak for me.
Time passed slowly. The crying faded, turning into irregular breaths.
Elma, exhausted emotionally and physically, ended up falling asleep right there, curled against me, overcome by fatigue.
When I made sure she was sleeping deeply, carefully I laid her under that frost-covered tree. I arranged her body to be as comfortable as possible, protecting her from the cold with my white cape.
Then I called in a low voice.
—Leaf, I need a favor from you.
—Yes? Tell me, what do you need me for? Hehe —she responded appearing with her usual energy, though upon seeing Elma she lowered her tone.
—I need you to watch over Elma. She's too mentally tired from her mother's death… so take care of her, please. I'll be right back. I'm just going to explore the place.
Leaf nodded seriously for once, and sat beside Elma, watching over her as she slept.
With my heart still heavy, I moved away from the spot.
I headed to the bonfire to teleport back to the desert. There was something I hadn't explored last time, an uncomfortable feeling, like a thorn stuck in my mind telling me something important was still there.
Upon arriving, the transition was immediate. The warmth turned into dry heat.
As soon as I set foot in the desert, my old friend appeared: the furry beast. I still didn't know exactly what kind of animal it was, but it had become an invaluable companion.
I climbed onto its back and, thanks to it, began exploring much faster.
I gave it bottles of milk from time to time, and each time it seemed happier, faster, as if that small gesture strengthened our strange pact.
I explored without stopping, traversing dunes, half-buried ruins and remains of ancient constructions, until something enormous appeared before me.
A pyramid.
Colossal. Ancient. Threatening.
The air around it felt heavy, as if the place didn't want to be disturbed. While circling the structure, a hostile presence manifested.
A huge four-legged beast emerged from the sand. It had deformed wings, gigantic claws and a body covered in rough scales. It was horrible, an abomination born to kill.
I didn't hesitate.
I jumped from my companion's back and unsheathed my dragon sword.
I attacked immediately, releasing the blade's flames. The fire enveloped the creature… but it did no damage. It barely reacted.
I dodged its attacks by little, each of its blows raising columns of sand.
—Draconic quake… and soul glow.
I activated both attacks at the same time.
The earth shook, the sword shone with intense light, and finally the creature showed signs of pain. It roared in fury and began chasing me relentlessly.
Luckily, the beast I rode was incredibly fast, allowing us to dodge again and again. Even so, the enemy was resilient, almost unstoppable.
The battle dragged on. Blow after blow. Skill after skill. My arms burned, my legs trembled, but I didn't stop.
Until I saw the opportunity.
The wounds caused by the burning edge of the sword made the creature move with difficulty. I seized that instant, darted under its body quickly and raised the sword.
One single cut.
Brutal. Precise.
I opened its entrails completely. The guts fell to the ground and the beast died instantly.
Its body began to fade, as always, leaving behind an object.
A book.
I picked it up. It was a fairy tale. The title read: Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp. I stored it immediately in my bag.
I continued advancing until I reached the place where I had previously seen stairs blocked by a steel gate. Now, with one of my master keys, I forced the entrance.
I descended.
The underground passage was the same one connecting the desert to the farm. I walked through the long and narrow tunnel until, for no apparent reason, the surroundings began to change.
The sand disappeared.
The ground became covered in snow.
The air turned freezing.
I climbed stairs covered in frost and, upon reaching the top, I understood.
The place that had been a desert before… now was a completely snowy field.
I took out the map with a frown.
Then I saw it.
I was in the Snow Garden, near Snow White's castle.