Fire swallowed the city.
Stone cracked. Towers collapsed. Screams drowned beneath the clash of steel and the roar of flames. Smoke choked the sky until day and night became meaningless.
A palace burned.
Inside its broken halls, a woman stumbled forward, one hand pressed against her side. Blood soaked her gown, each step heavier than the last.
A child supported her.
Small hands, shaking.
Tears blurring her vision.
“Mother—please,” the girl sobbed.
“Please get up. We can still run.”
The woman collapsed to her knees.
She smiled anyway.
“My daughter…” she whispered, lifting a trembling hand to cup the child’s cheek. Her eyes were full of love—and apology.
A knight rushed toward them, armor cracked and stained red.
“My Queen!” he said, dropping to one knee. “We must leave—now!”
The woman shook her head weakly.
“Not me,” she said. “Take the princess. Get her out of the city.”
“My lady, you’re bleeding—”
“It’s an order.”
The knight hesitated only a heartbeat—then bowed his head.
“Yes… my Queen.”
The child clutched her mother desperately.
“No! Mother, no! I don’t want to leave you!”
Tears slid freely now.
“Oh, my child…” the woman whispered.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry to leave you like this.”
She reached into her bloodstained sleeve and removed a bracelet—silver, etched with delicate markings that caught the firelight.
She pressed it into the child’s hands.
“Keep this,” she said softly.
“No matter where you go… remember that you are loved.”
Heavy footsteps echoed.
Enemy knights were approaching.
The knight lifted the child into his arms and turned.
“To the Queen’s chamber,” the woman said urgently.
“The mirror behind the altar. Press the crest. The passage will open.”
Steel rang nearby.
The knight ran.
Two enemy soldiers appeared at the chamber door.
He cut one down instantly.
The second struck—steel biting deep into his side.
The knight roared and drove his blade forward, killing the attacker—but the wound was fatal.
Blood pooled beneath him as he staggered into the chamber.
The child cried.
“Don’t cry, my princess,” the knight said weakly, forcing a smile.
“You must be brave. No matter what… you will always be a princess.”
He opened the secret door.
A tunnel yawned open—dark, endless, swallowing all light.
He placed the child inside.
“I cannot go further,” he whispered.
“This is where my path ends.”
The tunnel was pitch black—
Until the bracelet began to glow.
Soft.
Warm.
Guiding.
The child stepped forward.
At the tunnel’s end, the forest opened before her.
Night was falling.
The sounds of metal echoed behind her.
Voices.
Strangers.
A woman’s voice spoke gently.
“Child… who are you? Why are you alone?”
Fear froze her—
And then—
“Wake up.”
A voice cut through the darkness.
“Wake up, my child. This is not the time for dreams. You need to move. Now.”
Present — Edger
Ashren blinked as the sun dipped behind the hills.
The village of Edger lay hidden inside a quiet valley. Its homes were built half-buried beneath the soil, with only rooftops and doorways visible above ground. Underground rooms stayed cool in summer, warm in winter, and safe once night arrived.
It was a design that had protected the villagers for years.
Ashren wiped sweat from his forehead, tightening his grip on his wooden practice sword. The blade wasn’t heavy, but every swing felt like a step toward something more—strength, skill, and a future beyond the valley. A future he wasn’t sure he’d ever see.
“Again,” his uncle said behind him, voice calm but firm.
“Back foot steady. Balance first.”
Ashren inhaled and swung again.
“Better,” his uncle murmured. “Strength won’t save you. Think before you move. Move before danger reaches you.”
His uncle wasn’t just family—he was protector, teacher, and the closest thing to a parent Ashren had ever known.
The sun dipped behind the hills, painting the valley gold. Smoke drifted from chimneys while most of the village hummed quietly underground.
Ashren slung his practice sword over his shoulder and headed toward the Running Kestrel Inn.
A shadow crossed in front of him.
To be continued…
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