Aurora wakes up to the noise of barking dogs from outside. It is very unusual in this time of night, and she knows there are no dogs in the village. She grabbed her sling bag, runs outside and stood still, her eyes widened in horror. The village is on fire. She ran in fear and climbed up the tree as an instinct of survival to make sure nobody sees her. Atop she can see the village borders and discovered that the villagers, men, women, and children alike are all dead, with their bodies scattered on the snow. She can see the crackling flames consume the huts and fields. There’s almost nothing left. An army of men on their horses and hunting dogs are piling up the corpses at the center of their village, in front of the Elder Shaman’s hut. With very few villagers scattered on the sides, gravely wounded and wailing. She quickly climbed down and searched for other signs of life present. There’s almost no villager left alive, she thought, but she must at least save somebody. She crawled down the snow, silently moving towards the flames.

“What on earth is happening?” Aurora thought to herself. “Where is the Elder?”

She drew a dagger from her belt, preparing to defend herself just in case. It was a piece of thin and shiny, black glass.. A ceremonial dagger made of Obsidian. She knew that it is not enough to protect her but it will have to do.

One of the wounded farmers saw her hiding and was about to call for help when a horse rider suddenly stabbed his face with a spear even before he could say a word, dragging his body on the snow as the horse galloped away.

Suddenly, a soldier appeared behind Aurora. She immediately ducks, missing the soldier’s sword strike by inches.

She runs away, knowing she couldn't fight in close combat. She waves her dagger behind her, magically drawing runic shapes made of thin air as she runs. The soldier followed quickly, but out of the runes came a small spirit sprite of purple light. It flew through the soldier’s face, immediately putting him to sleep.

Aurora continued towards the forest, out of their village. She must tell Aster, she thought, almost crying. She picks out a small parchment from her sling bag and opens it. “Aster, I hope you receive this.”

Using her dagger, she drew runes on the parchment. Glowing letters appeared as her blade runs through and immediately fades after. Aurora looks up and find a small dove from a treetop. Shaking, she raised her hand and the bird landed on it, letting her place the letter on the dove’s feet, tying it with purple strings.

Hunting dogs soon appeared from a distance, barking furiously, quickly followed by soldiers riding their horses “There she iiis! Get her!” One of them shouted, two men immediately running after her.

Aurora just stood there, her eyes filled with tears but determined, she held her dagger tight and pointed it upwards, arms raised above her head. The two men didn't bother stopping, their spears pointed at the young woman, eager to catch her immediately. Aurora looked at the men’s faces, then their armor, at the center of their chests shows a Golden Lion. The flag of the kingdom. She immediately knew what this is all about.

She closed her eyes and moved her hand. Her obsidian dagger swiftly slicing the space between her and the soldiers, creating a wound that opens a doorway to the spirit realm. Out of that doorway came colorful guardian spirits that immediately smashed the soldiers in front of them. Aurora never tried this spell before. She smiled, glad to know she finally has a spell that Aster can't do. “I hope you’re safe, Aster.” She whispered as she fell on the snow, closing her eyes and passing out.

---

A brown horse fell down, throwing its rider on the snow. The rider cried and rolled, his voice clearly depicts exhaustion. He sits up and looks back at his horse, whimpering, its legs and body riddled with arrows. The rider removes his hood. It's the Elder Shaman, his face beaten and wounded, crying and desperate. He crawled towards the dying horse, tears welled up, its eyes clearly afraid.

“I'm sorry.” The shaman said, his voice cracking.

The shaman then draws his stone dagger and quickly stabs the horse’s neck, repeatedly. The horse, shrieked in pain and fell dead silent afterwards. The shaman cried helplessly. He pulled his dagger and threw it on the side, he then immediately cupped the horse's blood and drinks it. As if he cant get enough of it, he lifted the horse's head and drank directly from its bleeding neck, crying in between gulping. After he finished, he gently placed the horse back in its rest. His bloodied face now blank and emotionless. Slowly, the shaman glowed dim red, and the white marks on his chest turned red as well. It glowed and glowed until it was the only visible light in the dark.

The shaman stood up, now fully healed. He looked behind him, to the road that leads to where his village once prospered, then he turned to the road ahead and started walking.

His horse lasted the entire night, he thought to himself, he hoped he could last more.