The warm sun of Lior gently illuminated the spacious garden near Sakai's house. A ten-year-old boy, smiling, strolled leisurely, occasionally checking on the young trees. Soft sounds from the neighboring yard caught his attention. Leaning against the small fence, Sakai noticed a boy his own age.

  The stranger was carefully lifting a fallen chick back into its nest. Sakai smiled involuntarily, but then his gaze locked onto something unusual on the boy’s wrist. A slave mark. A mark of Runor.

  Fear gripped his heart. He recoiled and fell to the ground. "Runorians?! How?! They're not supposed to be here!" His thoughts raced, and without thinking, Sakai tried to flee. But before he could stand, the boy shouted:

  “Wait!” The boy raised his hands, showing he meant no harm. “Please, don’t tell anyone! We won’t be here long. I beg you.”

  Sakai stared at him in horror. He felt danger emanating from this boy, and the mark seemed to burn like a brand of searing iron. He wanted to scream, but the memory of the chick stopped him.

  “A-are you from Runor?” he stammered, his voice trembling.

  The boy nodded, looking down.

  “Yes, but we don’t hurt anyone, I swear...”

  Sakai remained silent, unsure of what to do. He remembered his father’s words: “Runorians are evil; they must be destroyed.” But was that really true?

  “What’s your name?” Sakai finally asked.

  “Hirata,” the boy replied, smiling faintly. “And yours?”

  “Sakai,” he exhaled.

  Thus began their friendship.

  Over the next five days, Sakai frequently visited the neighbors. His mother, busy with household chores, assumed her son had befriended the new residents. Meanwhile, Sakai grew more and more convinced that the people from Runor were no different from him.

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  “Why do you have the marks?” he asked one day as they sat under a tree.

  “Because we’re from Runor,” Hirata replied calmly. “For you, it’s a sign we’re enemies. For us, it means we’re property.”

  “But that’s wrong!” Sakai clenched his fists. “You’re just like us. I saw you save that chick!”

  Hirata gave a sad smile.

  “To them, we’re not people.”

  Sakai fell silent, deep in thought. He struggled to understand how the adults could be so mistaken.

  On the fifth day, when Sakai ran into Hirata's garden, he was met with a horrifying scene. Hirata’s parents were surrounded by the village guards. Accusations were shouted, and then… swords were drawn. Sakai watched in horror as they were killed on the spot.

  “No!” he screamed, rushing toward Hirata, who had been seized by the soldiers. “Please, don’t hurt him!”

  “They’re enemies!” one of the village guards growled, roughly pushing Sakai aside. “And you, boy, were with them!”

  The news spread quickly through the village. When Sakai’s mother learned what had happened, she dragged her son to the guards with disgust.

  “He knew they were from Runor and still spoke with them!” she declared, avoiding her son’s gaze.

  Thus, Sakai found himself imprisoned alongside Hirata.

  Moonlight filtered weakly through the bars of their cell window. Sakai sat on the floor, hugging his knees. Across from him, Hirata sobbed quietly.

  “I’m so sorry…” Sakai whispered.

  Hirata lifted his tear-streaked face. “This is their world. Their laws. We were just unlucky.”

  Sakai said nothing, listening as his friend struggled to stifle his sobs.

  “I just wanted to live… with my mom and dad. We didn’t do anything wrong…”

  Sakai felt hot tears burning his eyes.

  “I promise… I’ll stay with you until the very end.”

  Hirata gave a faint smile.

  The morning was cold. A crowd had gathered in the village square. The people were shouting curses, demanding the execution of the Runorian and the traitor. Sakai’s mother stood in the front row, her face cold and resolute, filled with disgust.

  The boys were led to two guillotines. Hirata and Sakai remained silent, knowing resistance was futile.

  “On your knees,” the executioner barked.

  Their heads were positioned under the blades. Sakai could see the crowd yelling, hungry for their deaths. He glanced at Hirata one last time. Hirata whispered,

  “Thank you for being my friend.”

  In that instant, time seemed to freeze. The square was flooded with a blinding green light. A massive sphere enveloped the area, its radiance dazzling and overwhelming. Inside, glowing runes erupted, spreading intricate patterns across the ground.

  Two cloaked figures approached the children. The shorter one raised a hand, and the air was filled with deep violet magical circles. They shimmered and pulsated, inscribed with countless runes.

  The taller figure spoke in a calm but satisfied voice,

  “They will do.”

  The two strangers disappeared, and the light of the sphere faded. The guillotine blades came down with a whistle.