Everything was white.
Then darkness.
The entire Yan Tribe slowly opened their eyes together. Children. Hunters. Elders. Arthur. Mithra. Sun. Athena. Luka. Raku. Even Vedas. Everyone stood together in the same space, and the first thing they noticed was that Yasha was gone.
Instead, they heard crying. Smoke drifted through the air. Burning wood crackled somewhere close by.
Arthur immediately recognized the battlefield. The Yan Tribe didn’t.
One little Goblin grabbed Elder Raja’s hand. "Elder," he said. "Where are we?"
Nobody answered.
Then Yasha appeared. Not the Guardian Spirit they had just met. The Commander. Covered in blood, holding her spear, watching silently as several wounded Goblins stumbled through the forest.
Arthur whispered, "This is after she died."
Athena immediately looked toward him. "I wished you would give us a warning," she said.
"Sorry," Arthur said quietly. "But we didn’t have much time."
Athena fell silent at that.
The scene shifted.
The surviving Goblins looked exhausted. Children cried. Hunters carried the wounded between them. Everyone looked completely broken.
One Elder collapsed to his knees. "We can’t keep running," he said.
Storm Wolves howled somewhere in the distance. Closer. Closer.
One Hunter gripped his spear tightly. "We’ll stay behind," he said.
Another shook his head. "No," he said. "We all stay."
Silence.
Arthur slowly clenched his fists.
Yasha stepped forward, reaching toward the exhausted survivors. Her hand passed straight through one of them.
She froze. "I really can’t touch them anymore," she said.
For the first time, everyone watching saw Yasha cry. Not loudly. Just one tear.
Arthur quietly looked away.
Then Yasha wiped her eyes and straightened herself. "Think," she said to herself. "There has to be something."
Her eyes drifted toward the meadow, toward the ancient tree, toward the flowers.
Then she remembered. "The King’s blessing," she said.
Golden light erupted, and the entire forest around the survivors seemed to disappear. Moments later, Storm Wolves burst into the clearing, sniffing, growling, circling the exact spot where the Goblins huddled together.
Then they left, unable to sense anyone at all.
Silence.
The surviving Goblins slowly realized they were still alive. One child laughed. "We survived!" she said.
One exhausted Hunter collapsed onto the ground. "Lucky," he murmured.
Another laughed weakly. "When was the last time?"
"Maybe our fortune is turning up? After–"
"Don’t say it... We promised her that we would keep going..."
Yasha trembled and then she saw the surviving goblins beginning to celebrate. Someone started a fire and for the first time since dying...
Yasha smiled too. "...Good." She whispered it so quietly...
Only Arthur heard.
He looked toward the Yasha next to him and saw that same loving smile. But he couldn’t smile at them, mistaking this for luck.
Elder Raja slowly sank to one knee. "So that’s what it was."
Nobody answered him.
His hands trembled. "I remember the day the boars came." His voice cracked. "We thought the forest had finally shown us mercy." He slowly looked toward Yasha. "It wasn’t the forest. It was you."
Yasha smiled gently. "It doesn’t matter."
Elder Raja slowly shook his head. "No. It matters."
For the first time... He bowed his head toward her.
The dream shifted again into smaller moments, each one ending the same way.
The Hunters returned empty handed one evening, and the children held their stomachs, hungry. One little Goblin quietly asked his mother, "Are we going to starve?"
His mother forced a smile. "Not today," she said, though she didn’t believe it herself.
Yasha quietly entered the forest that night. She scared away predators, found a family of boars, and instead of chasing them away, gently guided one frightened boar directly toward the village.
By morning, the Hunters shouted. "Boars!"
The village erupted with cheers.
One Goblin laughed. "We’re lucky again!" he said.
Yasha watched from the trees, smiling faintly. "Enjoy," she whispered.
Arthur noticed she never once took credit.
One older Yan Hunter stared at the dream. "My grandfather."
Everyone looked toward him. "He used to tell us about the day the boars walked into the village." He laughed quietly. "We always thought he was exaggerating."
Everyone trembled.
His smile slowly faded. "He wasn’t." He looked toward Yasha. "...You really led them here."
Yasha only smiled but she didn’t say anything.
A little girl burned with fever in another scene, her father crying beside her bed. The healer shook his head. "I’ve tried everything," he said.
The father whispered, "Please. Don’t take her."
That night, Yasha quietly entered the underground ruins nearby. Arthur immediately recognized them. "The Fallen Dawn Kingdom," he said.
Yasha searched shelf after shelf, murmuring to herself. "Blue leaf. Silver root. There." She gathered the medicine and placed it near the village entrance before slipping away.
By morning, the healer gasped. "Medicine? Here?"
The girl survived.
Everyone celebrated. "Lucky," they said.
One elderly Yan woman slowly covered her mouth. "...Grandmother used to tell this story."
Several nearby Goblins turned toward her.
"She always said the medicine appeared like a miracle." The old woman looked at Yasha. "...It wasn’t a miracle." "...It was you."
Arthur quietly looked at Yasha and she only smiled. Because to her, it wasn’t a big deal, all she cared about was making sure that little girl could live another day. But then his eyes widened as he saw a tiny crack spread across the back of Yasha’s hand in the dream.
Nobody else noticed.
He frowned. "...Was that..."
And then the scene shifted again.
Another child grew sick, this time too quickly for the healer to react in time. Yasha watched, and when there wasn’t enough time left, she walked quietly into the village past sleeping Goblins, knelt beside the child, and applied the medicine herself, gently wiping the sweat from his forehead.
Almost like a mother.
Arthur suddenly froze. He remembered Maria doing the exact same thing.
The child woke up the next morning.
His mother cried. "My baby," she said. "He’s okay."
Yasha quietly left before sunrise. No one ever knew.
Another crack appeared and this time across her shoulder.
Mithra quietly looked toward Arthur. "Is that..."
"Yeah... That’s when it started."
Mithra closed her eyes and clenched her fist.
Smaller moments followed, quiet and unremarkable to everyone but the ones watching now.
A child nearly fell from a cliff, and Yasha caught him, letting him believe he had grabbed the branch himself.
"T-That looks like grandma!"
"Because it’s your grandma... When she was little."
One little Yan boy paused before tugging his mother’s sleeve. "Then... Did Grandma ever know?"
His mother looked toward Yasha. Then slowly shook her head. "...No."
The little boy looked back at Yasha. "That’s lonely."
Nobody had an answer.
Another scene appeared.
Heavy rain threatened the fields, and she redirected the river to spare them. "Lucky," the villagers said.
A venomous snake crawled toward a sleeping baby, and Yasha flicked it away before anyone woke.
A tree fell during a storm, and she changed its direction before it could crush anything.
Every miracle, always invisible.
Sun finally couldn’t hold it in any longer. "Why?" he asked.
Yasha smiled. "What do you mean?"
Sun pointed toward the village. "They’ll never know," he said.
Yasha simply nodded. "I know," she said.
Sun looked confused. "Then why?"
She answered instantly. "Because they’ll smile tomorrow," she said.
Nobody spoke for a couple of seconds.
Sun slowly lowered his head. "I don’t think I could do that."
Yasha looked at him. "I’m sure one day you will."
"...Why are you so sure?"
She smiled. "...Because I once thought the same. But after finding people I want to protect and make happy, I changed."
Sun was stunned.
Vedas lowered his head. Athena quietly removed her glasses and wiped her eyes, pretending it was because they had fogged up.
Time began to accelerate around them. Spring. Summer. Autumn. Winter. Again. Again. Again. Children became parents. Parents became elders. Elders disappeared, one generation folding into the next.
Yasha remained.
Several decades passed.
Yasha smiled as always.
But half her arm had become covered in fractures.
Even the Yan Tribe had stopped talking. Everyone simply watched. Every miracle cost her another piece of herself.
Finally Arthur asked, "Why... Why did you start to crack?"
Yasha quietly looked at herself. "Because I pushed myself a bit too far."
Arthur blinked. "What?"
Yasha gently touched one of the cracks. "Guardian Spirits aren’t meant to use their powers forever," she said. "I’ve never stopped." She paused. "The cloak has never disappeared."
Arthur’s eyes widened. "You never rested."
Yasha fell silent.
Arthur stared at her. "So... You’ve been awake for a hundred years."
Silence.
Yasha thought about it. "... I suppose I have. But I honestly forgot."
Sun’s mouth slowly opened. "You... forgot?"
Yasha nodded. "There wasn’t really time to think about it. I needed to maintain the cloak."
Athena slowly adjusted her glasses. "...How often does a normal Guardian Spirit use their authority?"
Raku and Luka both spoke at the same time with looks of disbelief. "...Whenever their tribe truly needs them. In a good month it’s one time."
"And a bad one?"
"It’s at most five times."
Everyone trembled before staring at Yasha in shock.
Yasha tilted her head. "...Is there something wrong?"
Athena’s voice became unusually quiet. "You’ve been using yours for every second without any rest..."
Silence filled the dream.
Even Arthur couldn’t find any words.
Yasha simply looked toward the village again. "...They were safe and that’s enough."
"And you? What about yourself?"
Yasha didn’t answer and simply smiled.
It only made things worse.
The scene shifts and some of the younger Goblins in the dream began talking among themselves.
"I don’t think Guardian Spirits exist," one said.
"We’ve never seen one," another added.
"They probably died."
Another laughed. "We’re just lucky," he said.
Arthur’s fists tightened. He looked toward Yasha, expecting pain in her expression.
Instead, she laughed. "Good," she said.
Everyone stared at her.
"If they’re saying that," she said, "it means I succeeded."
One little Yan girl suddenly ran toward the Yasha inside the dream. "Thank you!"
Arthur instinctively reached out. "Wait!"
The little girl threw her arms around her but she stumbled straight through.
The dream Yasha continued watching over the village, unaware.
The little girl froze. "I missed." She looked down at her own hands.
Behind her...
The real Yasha quietly smiled. But then Arthur appeared behind Yasha and move her arms wide open. "If you can’t hug the dream one, you can hug this one!"
"A-Arthur!"
The little girl looked up. "Really?"
Yasha paused before sighing with a smile when she saw the hopefully look on the little goblin girl.
She nodded.
Without another word the little girl ran into her embrace.
Yasha gently hugged her. "Thank you!"
The little girl buried her face against Yasha’s shoulder and she lightly laugh. "No... Thank you. I needed this hug."
Nobody spoke.
Several adults quietly wiped away tears.
An elderly woman slowly lowered her head. "My father used to tell me that every generation had strange stories."
Another elder chuckled with a bitter smile. "I recall the impossible hunt."
Another closed their eyes. "The flood of beasts running around the area but avoiding them."
"The way disasters used to avoid them." Another let out a quiet laugh.
Elder Raja covered his face. "I always thought our ancestors liked making things dramatic." He smiled sadly. "They weren’t stories."
Luka nodded slowly. "They were thanking luck without knowing the truth."
Yasha didn’t say anything and she simply smiled at the Yan tribe like her actions weren’t something amazing. The way she looked reminded him of Maria, and she never believed taking care of me required a reward.
Arthur whispered, "Mom."
Mithra heard him but didn’t interrupt.
Arthur kept watching Yasha.
The way she smiled. The way she worried over every small thing. The way she quietly helped without ever asking for anything in return.
"She’s," he said softly, "just like Mom."
Not because they looked alike. Because both of them had loved without expecting anything back. Mithra gently squeezed his shoulder. No words were needed.
One middle-aged Yan Hunter laughed quietly. "My mother used to tell me... never insult your luck."
Another nodded. "My grandfather always left food outside the village once every spring. I asked him why."
"What did he say?"
"He just said... Someone out there is watching over us."
Everyone’s eyes widened.
He slowly looked toward Yasha. "...He was thanking you."
Yasha covered her mouth because she hadn’t known.
Not everyone had forgotten.
Yasha covered her mouth. "Someone remembered?"
The middle-aged Hunter nodded. "My grandfather. He always told me every spring leave food outside the village." The hunter scratched his head with a chuckle. "I always asked him why and he would say one to honor their previous Goblin Commander... And two because he believed someone was protecting them."
"H-He didn’t believe it was luck–"
"No. He didn’t." The hunter had an embarrassed look." "I thought he had become senile." His voice cracked. "...He wasn’t."
Yasha’s shoulders trembled. "He never saw me but he still thanked me."
For the first time... Tears rolled down her face.
Not because someone finally thanked her. But because she realized, maybe she really had never been truly forgotten.
And then the ending came.
Yasha had almost completely disappeared by then. One arm, gone. One leg, gone. Half her body, gone. Eventually only her head remained, still floating quietly, still watching over the village below.
The village laughed. Children played. Smoke rose peacefully from the chimneys.
She smiled. "I have to hold on," she whispered.
Arthur’s breathing grew shaky.
Yasha closed her eyes. "I can feel him," she said. "The one our King chose."
She smiled wider. "He’s close. He’ll protect all of you. He’ll make everyone smile."
She looked toward the village one final time. "Just a little longer," she whispered.
The last crack spread across her face.
Yasha looked toward the village.
The goblins were laughing and smoke drifted peacefully into the sky. "...You’re all smiling... Good." She looked down at what remained of herself.
Almost nothing. "...I think... I did well." A small laugh escaped her. "...Commander Yasha is almost done with her mission."
She closed her eyes. "My King... I kept my promise." Then she smiled. "...Now it’s someone else’s turn."
Vedas quietly stepped forward. "I’ll protect them."
Yasha smiled. "I know."
He placed one fist over his chest. "I promise."
"I’ll become Goblin King."
"I’ll make every Goblin stronger."
"I’ll make sure no Guardian is ever needed again."
Yasha looked at him for several long seconds and then she smiled. "The Goblin King really chose well."
Vedas lowered his head even further. "I won’t disappoint you."
Yasha quietly whispered, "...I know."
The dream began breaking apart around them.
Arthur reached forward instinctively. "Yasha!" he said.
His hand passed straight through her.
Everything turned white.
Before the dream fully ended, the Yan Tribe saw one final image. Yasha’s gentle smile, and then her quiet whisper.
"I’m glad you all grew up safely."
Everything disappeared.
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