The white-haired elf, who had joined the hero's party in the northern part of the continent, rarely spoke.

‘Rain.’

That was the first word she said when she met us.

It was her name.

‘Should we call her Little Rain? Or Adult Rain? Something like that, maybe.’ ‘Her hair is white too, just like the other Rain.’ ‘But Little Rain’s hair has silver streaks, doesn’t it?’—those were the kinds of thoughts the other three members discussed while huddling together, though I wasn’t part of that conversation.

Perhaps that’s why I don’t have many memories of talking with her.

Instead, whenever …