Night had fully fallen. Rhona stared up at a sky devoid of stars, mirroring the emptiness in her pockets. She began calculating how she would survive the night. The little money she had earned was gone—spent on food—and what remained wasn’t nearly enough for a room. It wasn’t as simple as it had seemed; prices in this village were far higher than she had anticipated.

  Rhona stood in front of an ATM. The temptation to withdraw cash was overwhelming. Just one transaction, and she could sleep in a soft bed. But then her father’s face flashed in her mind. She shook her head sharply. Using that machine would leave a digital trail straight to him. She wasn’t ready to go home yet. With heavy steps, Rhona turned away from the glowing screen.

  "Hey, are you homeless or just broke?"

  Rhona stiffened and turned toward the voice. A man stood nearby, his face obscured by the dim moonlight. She scowled; the question stung her pride.

  "I am neither homeless nor broke," she snapped.

  "Ah, if you have no money and nowhere to stay, what else would you call it? Don’t lie. We’re in the same boat, just trying to get by." The man stepped closer. "I’m new here too. Came looking for work. Couldn’t stand the high prices in the city."

  As he moved into the faint light spilling from a nearby house, his face became visible. There was nothing remarkable about him—just an ordinary man with a light beard. Rhona’s guard lowered slightly.

  "Everything here is expensive too," she muttered.

  "Tourist prices. When people see a business opportunity, they don’t hold back. But the locals are friendly. Kind. Not commercial at all. Especially the Anex."

  "So… can I stay at a local’s house?"

  "Of course. Follow me."

  Rhona followed without hesitation.

  "Where are you from?" he asked, glancing at her. His eyes lingered briefly on her necklace.

  "I’m from Yodania," she answered simply.

  "Oh..."

  Suddenly, the man spun around, tore the necklace from her neck, and bolted.

  Rhona froze for a split second. She had considered selling that necklace to survive, but having it stolen was something else entirely.

  "Stop! Thief!"

  Her scream scraped her throat raw. Instinct took over. Rhona yanked off her heavy boot and hurled it with all her strength at the fleeing figure.

  The boot cut through the air like a missile.

  Thwack!

  It struck him squarely in the back. The thief stumbled and fell, clutching his stomach. As he scrambled to his feet, the necklace flew from his hand—only to be caught by someone standing in the shadows.

  Rhona rushed forward as the thief disappeared into the darkness. She stopped in front of the man who had caught both her boot and her necklace.

  It was the man from before.

  No—someone else.

  "You let him get away?" Rhona barked, squinting to make out the young man’s face.

  "Your boot…"

  She looked down at the boot he was offering. She snatched it back and pulled it on quickly.

  "So…" She stood upright, adjusting her heel. Her gaze shifted to the necklace dangling from his hand. She lunged for it, but her fingers closed on empty air. The young man curled his fist around the pendant.

  Rhona exhaled sharply. "What do you want?"

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  "There are always thieves around here. You need to make this necklace look worthless," he said calmly.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Come to my house first. Do you want to?"

  Rhona studied him carefully. "Who are you really?"

  The young man smiled. His white teeth caught the faint light. He seemed about to answer, but his phone rang in his pocket.

  "Excuse me a moment," he said, stepping away.

  Rhona watched him closely. She couldn’t leave without her necklace. She had no choice but to wait.

  "Explosion?" the young man said, his voice low.

  "Ucan is dead. Farezu is injured. He managed to dodge most of it. The blast destroyed a large portion of the vegetation."

  His grip on the phone tightened. He suppressed the surge of emotion rising in his chest.

  "Find out how someone managed to plant a bomb there."

  "We already have. It was hidden in the jeep wreckage that exploded yesterday. There was a launcher mechanism inside—a time bomb. The attacker knew we would be clearing the debris. They were targeting us, Leader!"

  "I see…" His voice grew heavier. "How severe is the damage? Can you contain the fire?"

  "The explosive yield wasn’t large. We’ve extinguished the fire."

  "This person is playing games," he murmured, eyes turning cold. "They just wanted to prove they could do worse."

  "What should we do, Leader?"

  He glanced at Rhona, who stood some distance away, visibly impatient. She respected his privacy enough not to eavesdrop, but her eyes never left him.

  "Contact the others. We’ll discuss this after the auction. As for the damaged forest edge and the crater… let the government handle the cleanup."

  "Understood." Kafarupi ended the call.

  The young man slipped his phone back into his pocket and returned to Rhona. Her expression had grown even more sour. He offered her a warm, disarming smile.

  "So? Would you like to come to my place? By the way, my name is Sewor."

  "Sewor…?"

  She waited for a surname. Then she realized.

  Sewor had none.

  In the Western World, only the Anex went without surnames. She cursed inwardly at the thought of dealing with another Anex.

  "Yeah, I don’t have a last name," he said, as though reading her thoughts.

  "Oh. I’m Rhona…" She felt oddly relieved that she didn’t have to give her last name either. That made them even. "It seems I have no choice but to follow you."

  Sewor smiled. "That would be wise."

  Sewor led her to a wooden house surprisingly large for the village. He invited her inside.

  As she crossed the threshold, a soft, unfamiliar fragrance enveloped her. She had never smelled anything like it.

  "Newcomers usually find the scent unusual," Sewor observed.

  Rhona glanced at him. His curly hair was reddish-brown. He had a charismatic presence, with a high forehead and a broad chin. His eyes were gentle, and the lines around his mouth suggested a naturally warm disposition.

  "It doesn’t smell bad. It’s pleasant," she admitted.

  "It’s Minora wood. Part of the house was built with it."

  "I’ve heard of it. They say it’s rare."

  "Very rare. The trees are almost never cut down."

  Their conversation was interrupted when an elderly woman emerged from the back room.

  "Sewor, you’re home, son. Who is this? Your girlfriend?" Her eyes twinkled as she looked at Rhona.

  "No, Grandma. This is Rhona—a friend. She was stranded on the road, so I invited her in."

  The grandmother looked briefly disappointed, then smiled warmly.

  "Oh, I see. Miss, please make yourself at home. We haven’t had guests in a long time. Sit down. I’ll prepare some food and a bed."

  "Oh, Grandma, please don’t trouble yourself."

  A flicker of guilt touched Rhona. The house felt warm, welcoming. There was an elderly woman here. Surely Sewor wouldn’t attempt anything improper in front of his grandmother.

  She felt irritated at her own suspicion.

  But then again—they were Anex.

  "It’s no trouble at all. Sewor, keep our guest company," the grandmother said before disappearing into the kitchen.

  "Of course, Grandma." Sewor smiled at Rhona. "Don’t be shy. We love having guests—so long as they’re good people. Come, sit."

  "So the thief wasn’t entirely wrong about Anex hospitality," Rhona muttered as she followed him to a set of intricately carved wooden chairs.

  The spacious room contained several seating areas. From where she sat, she could see a dining table and a plush sofa facing a television that was switched off. Sewor sat across from her, carefully applying a thin coating over her Lora pendant.

  "Actually, we used to be even more open to strangers," Sewor said. "The Anex welcomed foreigners with joy. But many outsiders grew greedy when they saw the wealth of Nirwana Island. I don’t mean to offend you. Not everyone was like that. I’m speaking historically."

  "It’s fine. I want to hear it. Please continue."

  She felt it was only fair to hear the Anex perspective.

  "Fortunately, our ancestors were skilled negotiators. Even if it appears that the Anex are marginalized, we’re not. We were never colonized. Anex and foreigners live side by side. We still follow our traditions without losing the Nirwana Core Forest. The state protects the forest—and the rights of every citizen, Anex or not."

  "But that came at the cost of surrendering the coastline to foreigners, didn’t it? The cities are beautiful and modern, yet many Anex villages are remote and difficult to access."

  "Only some villages."

  "Even so, the inequality remains. The President of Nirwana and most government officials aren’t Anex."

  "It isn’t about power. Or technology. Or modernity. It’s about choice. If the country benefits not only us but others as well, isn’t that good? Many Anex prefer village life. That’s how our traditions endure."

  Rhona was surprised by how measured—and humane—the Anex philosophy sounded.

  "In your view," Sewor asked, meeting her gaze, "what are the Anex like?"

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