Giohan
In the year E90NR21, in the kingdom of Giohan
The land knew nothing but crimson blood.
The ground soaked in it every corner stained by war.
A world ruled by power, shaped by the merciless.
Where the strong stood tall upon the corpses of the weak,
And the poor begged not for gold, but for mercy.
It was a kingdom ruled by an unjust, corrupted system.
Names were power. Names were code.
Labels, carved deep into bloodlines.
They divided royalty, nobles, slaves, commoners.
And commoners? They were the lowest of all
Marked by the names of their birthplaces.
They owned nothing.
No land. No coin. No freedom.
Only labor. Only sweat.
Only the promise of bread and water.
And the slaves…
They sold themselves to nobles.
Yes, they were fed. Clothed. Sheltered.
A pillow to sleep on. A bed to lay in.
But they were owned.
Branded by the House that claimed them.
Once you belonged to a noble you were never free.
Your birth name erased.
Replaced by theirs.
Meanwhile, the nobles carried their family names like crowns
Symbols of honor. Of wealth. Of power.
A year passed.
No justice. No hope.
Until…
A warrior was born.
His name was Coal Hammerborn—
Named after the village that bore him.
A place rich in stone, in rock, in coal.
He wasn't trained for war
But the world chose him.
Just a boy.
Sixteen.
With nothing but a wish: to change the world.
Born in a dying village.
Dry. Dusty. Cold.
No food. No water.
To survive, he pulled a cart
Heavy with metal and stone
From city to city.
A trade for life
Two pieces of bread,
One bottle of water,
Given by the same army who killed his people.
He had no family left.
No name that mattered.
No one.
Only himself.
Until one day
He met her.
As he crossed the bridge, dragging his cart beneath the fading sun,
There she stood.
Shoulder-length black hair.
A gray cloth wrapped tightly around her frail body.
No painted lips. No powdered skin.
Only dust clinging to her face…
And bare, dirt covered feet.
She stepped forward, her voice cracking
Dry, like she hadn't tasted water in days.
"I've seen you pull that cart every day. It's heavy, isn't it?
And you do it… for the men who killed our families?
Why?"
Her eyes burned into him
Sharp. Accusing.
He stared back.
Silent.
Just for a moment.
And for the first time, he asked himself:
Why do I?
He'd never thought about it.
He only did it to survive.
And now—he had no answer.
Day after day, he noticed her.
Watching him from that bridge.
Eyes like storms—quiet, but fierce.
And then, one night
He stepped toward her.
As always, she sat on the bridge,
Staring at the sky.
At the stars. The moon.
A world so far from hers,
Yet somehow closer than the ground beneath her feet.
Coal held out a small bottle, his voice low.
"This is all I have left—please, take it."
She turned her head slowly,
Hesitation flickering in her eyes.
"It's yours,"
he said again, steady, offering it forward.
Her hands trembled as she took it
Both hands clutching it tightly
And she drank. Fast.
Tears slipping down her cheeks
Like rain on stone.
As if she hadn't tasted water in days.
He watched her, silent,
His heart heavy.
"What's your name?"
he asked softly.
She lowered the bottle,
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand
"Talia Hammerborn."
"Talia…" he echoed. "Why don't you work for your food?"
She looked away.
Pulled the cloth from her leg
Revealing scars.
Red. Raw. Countless.
"Even when I try… they beat me.
I'm too weak. I can't move like they want.
And this?"
She pointed to the wounds.
"This is all I get for trying."
Her eyes welled. Forgotten by the world.
Coal looked at her
And something inside him… shifted.
The next day, Coal worked twice as hard.
He pulled the cart longer.
Climbed steeper roads.
Took heavier loads.
All for one thing
To bring more.
That night, he returned with two pieces of bread.
Two bottles of water.
And every day after, they shared what little they had.
A scrap built shelter hidden in the commoners' grounds
Barely holding, barely standing.
But it kept the sun away.
Kept the rain off their skin.
It was theirs.
But day by day, life grew heavier.
When he asked for extra food,
They gave him extra weight.
More stone. More iron.
His cart grew heavier.
And his stomach?
Emptier.
His strength faded.
His hands bled.
But still—he brought food.
For her.
Until one day…
His legs gave out.
The weight broke him.
He collapsed.
Fever burning through him.
Face flushed. Breath shallow.
His body trembling, broken.
He lay across her lap, his voice weak.
"Forgive me, Talia… I can't bring any more food for us."
Talia held his hand.
Tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
"Don't say that. You've done enough."
Her voice shook.
But her grip was steady.
"You didn't just feed me, Coal…
You gave me life.
You gave me a reason to live.
A reason to believe.
A reason to… love."
She leaned down, forehead against his.
"I love you, Coal."
His hand reached weakly to touch her face.
"I love you too…"
That night, as Coal drifted into fevered sleep
Talia stood.
She looked down at him, heart breaking.
But her mind made up.
She stepped out into the cold.
Bare feet.
Weak body.
But her will? Unshaken.
She walked to the mansion
The estate of Lord Kareth Tiomiran Valein
The strongest, most brutal noble in Hammerborn.
She stood at the gates.
Trembling.
Voice barely a whisper.
"I will work. I will serve. Take me."
And they did.
Her name was stripped away.
She became Talia Tiomiran, bound to the Valein house.
Given clothes.
Given food.
Given shelter.
But never again freedom.
As she took her first step into the manor kitchen,
It felt like entering another world.
No dust. No burning sand.
Just the scent of food
Rosemary, flour, firewood.
Warm. Inviting.
Even the floor beneath her feet was strange
Soft. Polished. Almost glowing.
She could see her reflection in it.
She took a breath and stepped inside.
There, in the center, stood an older woman.
Sharp eyed. Cold-boned.
Liya Tiomiran.
Senior servant of the Valein house.
She looked her up and down.
"Talia, is it?
You're not here to impress anyone.
You're here to work."
Talia never argued.
She only nodded.
She scrubbed dishes.
Washed fabrics.
Cleaned until her hands cracked and her bones screamed.
She watched in silence.
But she learned quickly.
This family—the Valeins
They were brutal.
Every day, tables were piled with food.
Far more than they could eat.
And what remained?
Thrown away.
No servant dared to taste it.
No one ever stole.
And Talia?
She didn't, either.
She'd save half her own meal.
Or eat nothing at all
Just to bring it back to Coal.
Every night, she snuck out.
Carrying food in silence.
And whispered
"I've eaten.
They're treating me well…"
By morning, she'd return, unseen.
But Coal's fever worsened.
His body burned.
His lips cracked.
His breath shallow.
Desperate, Talia made a choice.
She went to the nobles' private stores.
A place no servant entered without permission.
Her heart pounded.
Her hands trembled.
All she wanted…
Was to save him.
She stepped inside.
Dark. Cold.
Wood creaking beneath her.
She found the medicine.
Turned to leave.
Closed the door, quiet
And then… she saw him.
A shadow in the hall.
Smiling in the dark.
Lord Kareth.
The corner of his mouth curled.
"Well…
It seems someone has learned to steal from the master.
Do you know what the punishment is?"
Beside him Liya.
Watching with empty eyes.
Talia froze.
Tightened her grip on the bottle.
But they didn't let her run.
They dragged her out.
And they beat her.
They laughed when she screamed.
Mocked her as she bled.
Tore her down
Piece by piece.
Still… she ran.
Broken. Bruised.
Bleeding from every step.
She ran to him.
She collapsed beside Coal.
Into his arms.
Trembling.
"I tried, Coal…"
She whispered, her voice like broken glass.
She kept speaking.
Desperate.
Words jumbled by sobs.
Coal held her tightly.
"It's alright, Talia.
I'll never let them touch you again."
His voice shook.
"I promise…
I'll make them pay for what they've done.
I swear it."
But her strength was gone.
Her body—drained.
Her skin—cold.
Still, she whispered:
"Coal… Coal…"
"I'm here, Talia!"
He grabbed her hands, shaking.
"I'm right here!"
"I… I can't feel you, Coal…
I'm scared…"
Her breathing faltered.
Uneven.
Shallow.
But she clung to his name like it was all she had left.
And Coal—he didn't want to believe what he saw.
"You're going to be alright.
You have to be…"
But slowly…
Her fingers slipped through his.
And just like that
She took her final breath.
Leaving him in silence.
A girl with bare feet,
Who once stood on a bridge,
And gave him a reason to believe.
He buried her with his bare hands.
Through tears.
Through rage.
Through the burning weight of her love.