The sun was sliding slowly toward the horizon, tinting the sky with golden and orange tones. One by one, the stars began to light up like tiny embers in the immensity.

  The city, with its dirt streets and houses of stone worn by time, breathed tranquility. People walked slowly, exchanging smiles and greetings, unaware of any worry.

  In a corner of that city, a group of children laughed while wielding branches as if they were swords, striking them hard in imaginary battles. Their voices mixed with the sound of the wind through the trees. Not far away, a young man lay reclined against the robust trunk of an elm, his eyes fixed on the starry sky, observing the constellations.

  From the other end of the street, a feminine figure advanced. Her skin was fair and her eyes black. Her hair, a deep chestnut, fell in soft waves down to brush the base of her knees. She walked calmly, while the wind played with the loosest strands.

  She stopped beside the children, giving them a brief smile, and then continued until she stood in front of the young man under the tree. She leaned slightly toward him and, with a soft voice, spoke to him:

  —Another time wasting time —she said with her hands on her waist, looking at the child in an amiable tone.

  The child had fair skin, hazel eyes, and long hair of a very dark chestnut color, the same as the lady's.

  —Sorry, Mom, I'm just studying the stars —the child replied, laughing innocently.

  —Well, that's enough. Your father and your siblings are waiting for you to eat —the mother replied, a little annoyed.

  —Okay —he said with a face of annoyance and boredom, responding in an angry tone and low voice.

  —Quickly, we don't have all day, and don't you dare get angry —the mother retorted, pointing at the child in an authoritative tone.

  —Okay —he replied with an expression of being scared and a scared tone.

  The mother gave a slight smile and watched as her son said goodbye to his friends. They walked back home, the child holding his mother's hand.

  —What did you make for dinner? —the child asked.

  —Well, you'll find out when we get there, but I'll give you a hint —the mother replied with a slight smile.

  —It's your favorite —she added, bringing her hand near her mouth; her words came out softly, like a secret she feared releasing into the air.

  —Wait... let me think... I have so many favorite foods —the child said, with an expression of excitement on his face.

  Upon arriving home, the welcoming family received them somewhat annoyed, since they had taken so long to return and the food was getting cold. The father, along with his older brother and older sister, took their seats, while the mother served the portions of food to each one. Everyone was calm with the security that a welcoming home gave them.

  The father addressed his eldest son, Deto, who in a few days would have to present his military service to the nation, which was mandatory upon turning 17.

  With a tone of concern:

  —Are you prepared, son? —he said, leaning slightly toward him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

  Deto replied, lowering his gaze:

  —To be honest, no... I'd like to stay here, but I guess I have no choice —he murmured, rubbing his hands.

  The father, with a tone of sadness but with security, nodded slowly:

  —You're right, there's no choice —he answered, squeezing his son's shoulder before letting go.

  The mother, with moist eyes, approached and caressed his arm tenderly:

  —When you return, we'll be here. So don't worry about us —she whispered, as if she wanted to protect him with those words.

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  Deto forced a smile and nodded, holding back the tremor in his voice.

  The next day, in the early hours, the morning air smelled of freshly baked bread, and the echo of children's laughter resounded in the central square of the town. Women carried water jugs, the elderly conversed on the porches of their houses, and the sound of everyday life filled every corner.

  Deto walked alongside his younger brother, carrying a sack of firewood on his back. Sweat ran down his forehead, but he smiled.

  The younger brother, with a little branch in his hand pretending it was a sword:

  —Deto... Look at me! I look stronger than you, right!

  Deto, laughing, gave him a gentle tap on the head with the sack:

  —If you want to catch up to me, you'll have to train a lot more.

  The child pretended to be offended, while some neighbors laughed at the sight.

  At the entrance to the house, the mother of both was waiting for them, wiping her hands on an apron.

  With a warm smile:

  —Come quickly, dinner is ready. Today I made stew, just the way you like it, Deto.

  Deto, pretending to exaggerate his excitement:

  —Finally something decent and not hard bread!

  The mother looked at him with mock seriousness, raising an eyebrow:

  —Watch how you speak or tomorrow you eat only hard bread.

  The father, listening from inside, let out a deep laugh:

  —Your mother is right, boy! Don't challenge her or you'll be the one who has to cook.

  The whole family entered the house amid jokes, laughter, and the warmth of the burning firewood. The younger brother was still playing with his little branch, pointing it toward the window as if facing an invisible enemy.

  —No one can beat me! I'll defend what's mine! —he shouted.

  Deto looked at him and, for a second, imagined him really fighting. The smile on his face faded for just an instant, before he pretended joy again so as not to worry him.

  And after so much comfort came the moment they feared. Three days later, Deto was preparing his things. The whole family waited at the entrance to say goodbye.

  Deto approached his father and, with a determined look, said:

  —Father, when I arrive and finish my service I want to stay in the army.

  The father frowned, his voice loaded with concern:

  —What are you talking about?

  Deto lowered his head a little and replied with sincerity:

  —Maybe I didn't tell you, but I'd like to be able to help you. I would have liked to do it here more, but if I can give you a better life... it's this way.

  Deto's mother shook her head, unable to accept that idea, because she knew the army was not what it seemed.

  Deto, noticing the tension, addressed the whole family firmly:

  —The service lasts two years, and in that time I won't be able to do anything for you. But if I stay, not only will I send you money, but you also won't need to work anymore.

  The family was left speechless. The silence grew heavy until the father broke it, addressing his son seriously:

  —You know what that decision entails, right? If you stay, they'll treat you very differently, they'll exploit you and it's likely they'll put you in danger too.

  Deto nodded:

  —Yes, you told me. And they'll pay me very well for that and that's how I can get the most out of my potential, right?

  The father sighed and advised him:

  —When you arrive, don't say anything. Pretend you know nothing of what I've told you, much less about purity.

  Deto replied firmly:

  —I know. Everything you told me is something I shouldn't know, don't worry.

  The father hugged him tightly and gave him his last words of encouragement:

  —Then, become the strongest and make your family proud.

  Deto's younger brother, with a mischievous smile, intervened:

  —I'll be someone even stronger, so you have to come back to see it.

  Deto smiled at him and replied fondly:

  —Of course... While I'm not here, you'll protect Zuna and Mom along with Dad, right?

  His brother affirmed with determination:

  —Yes, I will.

  Deto winked at him and joked:

  —That's the way to talk, pig.

  Zuna intervened energetically and exclaimed:

  —We don't need the dwarf's protection, I'm strong too! Besides, Dad and Mom are teaching me to manifest my purity.

  Deto put his index finger to his lips:

  —Shhh... Quiet! Don't say it out loud.

  Zuna lowered her gaze, blushing and nervously playing with her hands, clearly embarrassed.

  Deto, with a more serious smile, added:

  —I know you'll become a great woman and very strong. Maybe, when it's your turn to present your service, I'll have a very high position.

  Zuna replied confidently:

  —Yes, that's for sure, and I'll catch up to you.

  The younger brother interrupted with a mischievous smile:

  —She won't be the only one, and I'll become even stronger.

  Zuna, mocking, replied reclining and placing her arm over her head:

  —In your dreams, dwarf.

  The younger brother became indignant:

  —Don't talk to me like that, Zuna! Who do you think you are?

  At that moment, the father intervened with a firm voice:

  —Enough! Stop it, both of you!

  They immediately stopped arguing and Deto let out a laugh while thinking to himself: ?I'm going to miss them?.

  The mother approached Deto, her eyes shining with contained emotion. She took his face in both hands, softly caressing his cheeks.

  —Take care of yourself a lot, son —she whispered, her voice broken by the mixture of pride and sadness—. We'll be here, always waiting for you.

  Deto looked her in the eyes, feeling the weight of her words and the warmth of that last contact. With a gentle hug, he pressed her against his chest, as if wanting to keep that moment forever.

  —I'll be back soon, Mom —he promised with a smile, trying to hold back the nostalgia.

  Deto said goodbye to his family and began to walk away, his figure growing smaller and smaller on the road.

  His younger brother, with his voice barely a whisper loaded with emotion, pronounced:

  —I'll be waiting for you, I promise...

  The younger brother, along with his entire family, watched him walk away down the dusty road. He didn't know —we couldn't know— that this would be the last time we would see him.