Prologue Part I:

The Light

A girl who couldn’t be older than seven
walked carefully along the open corridor beside a large garden.

Her small hands brushed the stone wall as she passed,
sunlight flickering through the tall windows
and catching in her messy chestnut hair,
making her pointy ears shimmer.

The garden stretched wide to her right—
flowers in rows,
green grass trimmed so perfectly
it looked like someone had cut it one blade at a time.

Ahead, by the rose archway,
stood a taller girl—

like a teenage version of the smaller one,
wearing the same gown style.
But her hair was golden-brown,
brushed smoothly,
trailing like a ribbon past her waist.

A young woman in a maid’s uniform stood frozen,
head bowed in front of her.

“Sorry, Miss Lina,” the maid whispered.

Lina looked down,
her face tight with disdain.

“Do you have any idea
how much
this dress cost?”

“N-no, milady…
I’m really sorry.
It won’t happen again.” Her voice trembled.

“You’d have to work your entire life
to afford even half of it.”

Lina clicked her tongue.

“You’re lucky
I’m feeling generous today.
I won’t tell Mother—
this time.”

“Thank you for your mercy, Miss Lina.” The maid bowed low.

She turned and hurried toward the castle,
wiping the corners of her eyes as she passed.

The smaller girl slowed her steps.
She looked back,
first to the door the maid had passed through,
then at Lina,
who was walking in her direction. 

She whispered with a small smile:
“Morning, si—”

Lina barely turned her head.

“Don’t call me that,” she muttered.

“Hanna…
you can’t even
conjure
a single beast.

Even after my father
pitifully hired tutors for you,
months wasted
on something beyond repair.

That’s why it’s our mother
who makes the decisions.

If she hadn’t been away at the time,
she wouldn’t have even considered
wasting her time on—” she glances down, then up, in Hanna’s direction.

“You’re a disgrace to our name.

Now move,
don’t waste my time.”

With a flick of her wrist,
she stepped past

silk brushing against stone,
vanishing down the hallway.

Hanna stood still.
She slowed her breathing.
Let her hands fall to her sides.

Then she turned,
walking toward the forest behind the estate.

No sound followed her steps.
Only her heart.
Beating fast. 

Hanna walked with her head low,
hands gripping the hem of her soft blue dress,
its pale color nearly vanishing against the tall, aged trunks that surrounded her,
almost fading into the forest itself
one pale shape among many.

Her grip tightened
until her small fingers throbbed red against the fabric. 

The corridor behind her,
fading with each step,
was no longer visible
or making any noise. 

But her sister’s voice…
seemed to echo in her head. 

“I’m not a failure,” she said out loud.
“I know I can’t summon beasts like the others...
but they don’t

even…

give me a chance.”

“I’m not a failure,” she whispered,
softer this time, as if trying to convince the trees.

She nudged a clump of dirt with the tip of her shoe,
then kicked it harder,
scattering pebbles across the path.

One rolled ahead
and came to rest on a thin strip of light
cutting across the ground.

Frustration bubbled behind her eyes,
but it came out quiet,
locked in every breath she swallowed.

“I’m not…” she muttered,

almost pleading.
“I’m not a failure!”

She stomped her right foot down hard,
dust lifting in a sharp puff from the packed earth.

She wiped her tears with her forearm.
A faint, almost transparent blue light
bloomed in her left hand.

“See?
I’ve learned how to use ice spells.”

The ground,
once dry and scattered with leaves
now shimmered beneath a thin layer of frost.

Hanna stared at it, a gleam of pride on her face as she watched the blue and white circle around her.

I can even use fir—”
Her heel slipped.

She landed with a soft thud,
arms flailing,
a small fireball bursting from her hand
and vanishing into the woods.

There was not a single sound in the forest at that moment.

She blinked,
lying there,
staring into the space where her magic had vanished.

“I wish someone could see me
once.”

She mouthed the words. 

A crow screeched!
It shot up from a branch nearby,
its wings slicing the air in a burst of noise.

Then the trees shook.

Not from wind.
From something moving.
Something large.

The ground beneath her buzzed faintly.
A low, guttural snort echoed from the dark ahead—

antlers, tusks, or something worse
broke the shadows.

A boar.
Bigger than she’d ever seen.

Its outline swayed,
massive,
pushing through the trees,
getting close.

Hanna pushed up on her elbows,
still half on the ground.

“That’s…

definitely
not what I meant.”

She had no one to see.
No one to call.
And even if she did...

She murmured quietly.

“They probably wouldn’t listen.
Or worse,
pretend not to.”

She didn’t scream.

She slipped,

hit the ground hard,

rolled onto her belly,

hands over her head,

fingers locked.

Like a turtle bracing into its shell.

Silent.

Behind her.

Heavy steps crashing through the bushes!

Getting closer each second.

Inside her shell, her voice trembled out, barely louder than breath.
“Another one...

someone,

plea—”

A voice cut through the trees, loud, sharp. Words she didn’t understand.

“Taes’varketh Dular’eth

…

kethar’o ha’ena tharn’eth”

And the ground in front of her shuddered

A foot slammed down hard!

Inches from her head.

She opened one eye, looking up…

A girl stood between her and the boar.

Taller, and shaped like stone.

Not bulky,

but shaped like something meant to last.
Firm.

Unmoving.

All Hanna could see was this shape in front of her

arms open,

weapons steady,

a presence that filled the path so completely that even trying to look past her would’ve meant circling wide, breaking position.

Hanna wasn’t just behind the girl,
she’d been removed from sight.

The boar snorted,

but the girl didn’t flinch.

She didn’t move,

not tense

not relaxed.

only set,

like she’d always been meant to stand there.

With dark hair tied back in a ponytail,
her skin was like amber held to the sun, warm, solid and still.

She looked like something shaped

not by tools,

but by time.

Hanna couldn’t tell if she was looking
at a person or something ancient.
Something the world had made…
and then decided not to change.

The girl turned over her shoulder,
just enough to glance at Hanna.
Keeping her stance like she knew
the boar wouldn’t dare take the opening.

She, calmly.

“Hi.”

Like charging boars were a normal Tuesday.
“I saw a bright light,

so, I ran as fast as I could.

Are you okay?

Sorry if I startled you.
By the way,

my name is Jane.”