Some people never speak…
But their pain sings in silence."
---
The next village was small.
But every corner of it felt… tired.
Like people were living — but not alive.
Our caravan stopped.
Lio ran around as always — full of energy.
"I'm playing first!" he shouted with a grin.
Mira and Toren began setting up the tent.
I stayed quiet… just watching people.
That's when I saw him.
He sat alone in the corner,
still like a stone.
Eyes fixed on nothing.
Completely apart.
Completely… empty.
---
Mother walked up to me.
"You saw him?" she whispered. "His name is Arven.
The villagers say he hasn't spoken in years.
He lost his son in the war…
and since then,
he just… stares."
I didn't reply.
But something inside me… shifted.
---
That evening, the stage was ready.
The performance began.
Lio played a playful tune.
Papa warmed up the crowd — his usual cheerful act.
Then Mother looked at me.
And softly said:
> "Noen… sing for him."
---
I stepped onto the stage.
The crowd expected a lively song.
Something to smile to. Clap with.
But I closed my eyes…
and sang only for Arven.
---
> "I am the one
who doesn't speak…
but screams
from the inside."
> "I'm the one
whose pain no one ever heard…
But a single note
reminds me I still exist."
> "I'm far from all of you…
yet somehow,
still among you."
> "If you can hear me…
maybe…
I can learn to live again."
---
The moment the last line faded…
That man — Arven,
the one who hadn't moved all day —
a single tear fell from his eye.
Just one tear.
But it said everything.
The village was frozen.
No claps. No cheers.
Just silent awe,
as they watched the man who never cried…
weep.
And all because Noen's song
reached a place words never could.
---
That night, Mother simply said:
> "Son… music isn't always about entertaining the crowd.
If you can touch even one soul —
your song has done its job."
---
And me?
I just wrote one line in my diary:
> "For the first time…
by making someone cry,
I understood what life really means."
---
To be continued…