Years crawled by without gentle stories or mercy, without friendship, love, or even the smallest glimmer of hope in their existence.

Chilly days filled with cruelty and hatred passed, becoming the norm. A mother's madness had been coldly driven out of Severa's heart. Father called it maturity. The only belief she still held onto was faith in calamity, which made her prepared and resilient against the fate of the Himayans.

And calamity followed, as it always had. Monterra attacked Sylvamarius, just as Caligo had predicted. A pack of Cornicani had besieged the city, tearing apart anyone who hadn't sought shelter in their homes fast enough. A fishing boat was swallowed by an enormous sea creature with ten claws, and last summer, the entire Finemici harvest was destroyed by a series of summer storms.

The people of Sylvamarius could still fill their stomachs with the bounty of the catch. But those living in the east of Finemici were much worse off and on the brink of starvation.

Less than a week ago, several farmers from Sanguinaria had invaded Sylvamarius; like fools, they stole any food they could find, striking down anyone in their way with their scythes. It was a deed that was ultimately paid for dearly.

Almost all the residents of Sylvamarius had drawn their weapons and chased the farmers away. Few had escaped the village alive, probably spending more energy fleeing than the food had ultimately given them.

Now, ominous black clouds loomed over the farmers' land. The drought, combined with perhaps a small fire, must have been enough to destroy the village completely.
It wouldn't surprise Severa if it had been a punishment from the reigning evil for their failed raid. However, this brought her comfort, as it meant they wouldn't have to deal with their neighbors for the time being.

Although Sylvamarius had quickly defeated the farmers, there was no denying that they had suffered during this civil war. All week, people had been dragging corpses to the sea, and a crowd stood outside the infirmary, waiting for cleansing and anesthetic treatments for the wounds they had sustained in the battle.

Today, however, all traces of the fight had vanished, and it seemed to be a safe day in the small harbor town. If there was ever a day that didn't seem ominous, it was this one. The wind rustled gently through the trees, and it was warm outside, but not unbearably hot, as it often had been this summer.

Severa walked through the streets. Sunlight glinted off her brown leather pants, and her airy cream-white blouse fluttered softly in the breeze. A bow hung on her back, and she had an axe and a machete tucked into her belt. Her father had called after her to put on her armor, but Severa was no longer the obedient little girl she had once been. For the first time in ages, she dared to believe in a day when she could at least catch her breath in peace.

The streets echoed with the giggles of carefree children playing, hacking at each other's wooden armor and shields with their iron swords. A mother called out to the children to be more careful as she rocked a baby. The sun reflected brightly off the baby's shiny iron armor, and Severa squinted irritably when a ray of light struck her eye.

Determined, she climbed the path from the square that led to the forested mountains of Nivalis. The trees at the edge of the forest were tall and strong, reaching their thick branches toward the sunlight.

Severa needed to go deeper into the forest to find smaller trees that survived with less sunlight but were sturdy and straight enough to support the collapsed roof.

Although her bedroom roof had caved in during a summer storm weeks ago, Severa was in no hurry to fix it. She had moved her thin mattress to the living room, where she had enjoyed sleeping by the fireplace.

However, her father insisted she return to her bedroom. He complained that every morning, he felt like he was stepping back into a nightmare at the sight of Severa's lazy head on the living room floor. The truth, though, was that he preferred to drink his Gaudorium Elixir— a bitter drink beloved by old men— with his feet in front of the fire.

Severa had now taken over her father's duties, as he could barely stand after all his battles with evil. She knew the forest edge like the back of her hand. She had a deep love-hate relationship with the forest and its creatures, sometimes admiring them calmly and other days wanting nothing more than to take revenge on everything in her path. Moreover, she recognized all the tracks and sounds of the forest edge, knowing exactly when to continue or turn back.
In most cases, Severa decided she could continue, as few animals in the forest edge could withstand her skill with a bow and arrow. She walked leisurely along the well-trodden paths that wound their way up the gentle slopes. Occasionally, there was rustling, but Severa knew it was nothing concerning.

A small Arborculus stronkius, about the size of Severa's forearm, with woody skin and knotted elbows and knees, was arguing with a Falsciurus, a squirrel-like creature with big eyes, a long sticky tongue, and small floppy ears, further ahead on the path. The Falsciurus had wrapped its tongue around a small nut that the Arborculus stronkius was trying to pull free. When they saw Severa approaching, the Falsciurus quickly unwound its tongue and hopped into the bushes. The Arborculus stronkius waddled away with the nut in its claws, at a pace Severa could easily outmatch.

She quickly caught up, pried the nut from its claws, and the Arborculus stronkius continued its search, squeaking. Severa cracked open the nut, stuffed the soft pink fruit into her mouth, and pulled the axe from her belt. Chopping into a tree of the perfect size for repairing her room, she noticed a strange shadow pass over her. She looked up but saw nothing, continuing her task while mentally searching for an explanation for the fleeting, long shadow.

She hadn't heard any rustling through the leaves, so whatever it was, it must have flown above the forest. Before she could find the right explanation, a shrill cry echoed— one she immediately recognized as a dragon's. Her heart began to race, and her stomach clenched.

The dragon's screech reverberated through the forest, louder and more frequent than usual, and even the townspeople were screaming in panic. That was strange because the people of Sylvamarius never screamed for help or mercy; they defended themselves.

The city wasn't visible through the thick trees, so Severa picked up her axe, tucked it back into her belt, and, trembling with fear, sneaked down the mountain, looking for a clearing where she could safely view the town from a distance.