The World They Left Behind

Inside the carriage, silence enveloped them. Only the rumble of the wheels occasionally broke the stillness. Arga and Ningning sat side by side, enjoying the sky that felt so close.

Suddenly, Ningning touched Arga's hand. "Arga, give me your hand," she said with a slight smile.

Without much questioning, Arga offered his hand. Ningning pulled out a small bracelet from her jacket pocket, woven with golden threads and adorned with a small dark blue stone that reflected the moonlight.

"This is a lucky bracelet," she said as she fastened it around Arga's wrist. "This bracelet can protect you. Who knows, you might need it one day."

Arga looked at the bracelet skeptically. "And you're just giving it to me?"

Ningning grinned mischievously. "Not just that," she continued. "Every time you see it, you'll always think of me."

Arga simply shook his head, but the faint smile on his face couldn't be hidden.

The carriage continued on until finally, in the distance, the dim lights of a small village appeared. Oil lamps lit up, illuminating the neatly arranged simple buildings. Though small, the village seemed warm and full of life.

When the carriage stopped, Ningning was the first to step down, walking confidently towards the village. Moments later, a man emerged from the darkness, holding a lantern in his hand. His face was filled with a friendly smile.

"Welcome, Miss Ningning," the man said with a slight bow. "We've received word that you would be arriving. Please, come in."

"Thank you," Ningning replied with a light nod. She then turned to Arga, signaling him to follow.

The man led them to a small house in the middle of the village. After opening the door, he gestured for them to enter. "This is your room. There is only one, but with two beds. I hope you both feel comfortable."

Arga glanced briefly at Ningning, but the girl gave no reaction.

"Oh, right," the man continued, "as it happens, our village is holding a harvest festival tonight. There will be roasted meat and drinks. Everyone is invited."

Hearing this, Ningning's face lit up. "A festival? That sounds fun!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Alright, we'll join later."

The man smiled once more before leaving them. As soon as he disappeared, Ningning sat on one of the beds, throwing an enthusiastic glance at Arga.

"Are you ready to enjoy tonight?" she asked with a wide smile.

Arga just shrugged lightly. "If you're this excited, I guess I have no other choice."

They chuckled softly, while outside, cheerful voices and the sound of music started to fill the air, signaling the beginning of the village festival. However, the relaxed atmosphere was suddenly shattered when Arga stopped in his tracks. His face twisted in pain, and he reached for his back uneasily.

"Why is my shirt wet?" he muttered in confusion. "And it feels... crampy."

Ningning immediately took notice. Her face turned serious as she moved closer. "Arga..." she said softly, her voice filled with concern. "You're bleeding."

Arga turned quickly, his eyes full of confusion. "What?"

Without waiting for an answer, Ningning grabbed Arga's collar and pulled it aside. A long, deep wound on his back came into view, surrounded by patches of drying blood.

"This... how did you get this? Was it from our fall earlier?" she asked, her voice becoming more urgent.

Arga didn't answer right away. He slowly took off his shirt completely, revealing the wound more clearly. Ningning quickly ran outside, her hurried steps reflecting the urgency of the situation.

Meanwhile, Arga remained seated, taking a deep breath. His mind raced, trying to recall the moment that might have caused the injury, but everything felt like an impenetrable fog.

Not long after, Ningning rushed back in, carrying a small first aid kit she found in the village. Her steps were heavy, as if burdened by guilt. Kneeling behind Arga, she looked at the wound with horror. Her face instantly turned pale.

Tears began to well up in her eyes. With a trembling breath, Ningning took a clean cloth and some alcohol to clean the wound. Her hands shook as she wiped away the drying blood. "Arga... you really need to be more careful," she whispered, her voice quivering amidst her stifled sobs.

Arga glanced at her over his shoulder, trying to smile despite the pain gripping his body. "Why are you crying? Weren't you the merciless woman before?" he joked tiredly, attempting to lighten the mood.

But Ningning didn't respond. Her sobs grew louder, yet her hands remained steady as she carefully tended to the wound. The sound of her weeping filled the quiet room.

Arga took a deep breath, trying to shift the atmosphere. "Didn't the arrow wound from before heal overnight? What did you use back then? I forgot," he teased lightly.

Instead of laughter, he received a gentle slap on his back, right beside the wound. "Ouch!" Arga winced, half surprised, half annoyed. "Why did you hit me? I was just asking, you know."

"Shut up!" Ningning snapped, her voice cracking with tears. Her tears kept flowing, but she continued wrapping Arga's wound with care. Her movements were filled with emotion, as if pouring all her feelings into the treatment.

Arga watched her in silence, a small smile forming. There was something in Ningning's eyes that reminded him of old memories. With a voice barely above a whisper, he murmured, "You remind me of someone."

Ningning glanced at him briefly, her eyes still wet. But she said nothing. Her hands remained focused on securing the bandage over Arga's wound.

Silence enveloped them. Only the sound of their breathing filled the room, mingling with the cool night breeze slipping through the window, bringing an oddly soothing chill.

Once she finished dressing the wound, Ningning sat quietly for a moment, trying to steady her breathing. Suddenly, without warning, she rested her forehead against Arga's back and hugged him tightly from behind. Her sobs grew softer but still felt heavy.

"Arga... I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice almost lost in the night breeze.

Arga turned slightly, his brow furrowed. "Why are you apologizing?"