176 years ago, a little girl sprinted over the hill in Europe. The wind blows her hair, the sun shines high, combined with a beautiful blue sky, and a few clouds cast a shadow to make the heat bearable.
The wind tickled her skin and brushed her hair, and with steps as light as a feather, she sprinted back to her house in joy.
The little girl's smile made everyone who saw her in the village happy. The girl saw her father, who stood in front of their house. The house stood on a small hill, which made it possible for him to look all over the village.
The girl's father was the village mayor, and so they never had to live in poverty or were wealthy; now they could still live without fear of not having enough food for everyone.
The girl had three brothers and two sisters; together, they were six children. Her mother was clam, gentle, and beautiful, and her father was strict but still fair, tall, strong, and never backed down.
The girl loved her sisters and brothers; even if they had different opinions and personalities, they were still on good terms.
If someone would ask her, she would always say that her family was the best and that she would once be a person as good as her parents combined. She wanted strength, strictness, and fairness from her father, combined with gentleness, calmness, and beauty from her mother.
The village lived in pieces. Sometimes the people who lived in the village quarreled, but basically they were all great people; even if they fought in the tavern, they all got along again or were banished from the village by her father.
Her father made it clear to her that this was to save the village; she needed some time later to understand. If people kept misbehaving, they had to be taken out of the village, and if they didn't want to do that, they would have to beat up her father, and that was impossible. Not only according to their information but also in the eyes of the villagers. He was a normal man, but he was two heads taller than the other men in the village and at least four times as strong. Fighting him was an impossibility; even the dumbest peasant would know that.
But this piece came to an end, and not in days, weeks, or years. The piece was destroyed in just a few seconds.
A tall and slim man appeared in the sky; his black cloak hid his being. The man levitated in the air until the first villeger screamed, "This is a demon!"
As the old villeger shouted his fear out, his head flew in the air and landed in the hand of the man who now stood on the ground.
"Never compare me with these silly fools, fools who think that they could mess with souls without seeing their full view."
The man spoke with a serious tone that made everyone who heard it shake. Nobody knew why, but for some reason the man talked to the head as if he were alive, simply to throw him into the dirt the moment he finished talking.
The coated man opened both of his arms wide and pronounced with a strong and mighty voice, "Consider yourself lucky humans, because from today onwards, a few of you will become a higher race. So fear nothing and become my little research material."
The strong voice of the man echoed through the whole village, from the house of the mayor on the hill to the huts of the farmers. Everyone heard the massage as if they stood right next to him.
Nobody said anything until one man stood up; it was the little girl's father. "I don't care what you are doing here, witcher, but leave my village immediately or you will die here and now."
The man pointed with a sharp axe at his enemy; he wished to have a better weapon for this witcher. But he had only this option: fight or die. He knew that; it was as if his instincts told him to look at every movement and fight no matter how dirty or unethical he could.
"Roaah!" The man roared as if he were a wild beast and charged with his axe towards his enemy.
With all of his might, he swung his axe from top to bottom; however, the moment the axe met the head of the cloaked man, the axe shattered into the man's hands.
"One more or less won't mean anything." The cloaked man touched the man with his index finger.
SPLASCH.
"No father!" The last thing the little girl saw was the image of her father's head getting blasted open. His brain splattered on the ground, and his dead body lay in the dirt. The girl had no idea who the cloaked man was, but one thing was for sure: this man was crazy.
The little girl sprinted to her father's dead body until her mother coughed, preventing her from coming nearer to him.
"No, don't go, please. Mary, stay here!" Mary's mother broke out in tears. The woman held her daughter's head with both hands.
The woman was at her end; her husband died, her legs gave up, and the only thing she could see anymore was the ground beneath her.
"I hope you understand now, so please cooperate with me. Will you?" The cloaked man's voice became soft and gentle, as if he were a normal visitor to the village. The people understood that it was not possible for them to resist, so they gave up and walked to him.
"Good, then will you come with me? I have already prepared everything." The man reached his hand out and pointed towards a way—a simple dirt road leading out of the village.
"Mother, stand up, please; if you don't move, he will, no!" The image of her father poped into her mind; the scene played again in her head; she turned over and saw her father. It was not a dream or a joke; he was lying there, dead.
The mother lifted her head and looked with eyes full of tears into her daughter's eyes. "Go ahead; I will make sure to bring your siblings. Okay, trust your mother and go with the man. You will be right."
The mother grabbed her daughter by the shoulders. The longer she held him, the stronger her grip became.
"No, I can't come with me, please. I don't want to."
"I said go! NOW!" The woman pushed her daughter with the most terrible scream she ever let out in her entire life.
"Wait, no, I mean, wait." The mother reached out to her daughter but stopped as she saw her daughter backing down.
Her daughter walked back; she tripped as she tried to get away from her own mother.
"Good day, my laddies. Is something worn?" The cloaked man stood beside them; his hood got blown away by the wind; an old face was revealed; the face was full of wrinkles. Mary wondered if someone could be alive with this appearance.
"No, what? Why are you what you do?" The woman's breathing became more irregular; she tried to crawl back, but her legs still did not allow her to move. She was at her end; her voice broke, and silence filled the area.
"Oh, now I understand. You are the man's husband, right? But don't worry, he is not dead; if you believe me, you will soon see him again. But first of all, little one, you should go."
The man's clam voice sounded friendly, as if he were here to save the woman from her pain; his expression showed no trace of hostility.
The man turned his head toward Mary. On his face was a kind smile that resembled Mary's little brother: "Would you agree with me? The little Robert is searching for his beloved sister; would you be so kind to get to him, Mary?"
Mary did not know what it was; however, the man's words calmed her emotions. She was calm and said with a smile on her face, "Alright, come to us when you are done talking to the uncle's mother."
The man smirked and then pointed with his open hand towards the group of people who walked towards the hill her house stood on. She followed them and soon saw her three-year-old brother Robert sitting on a bench while looking into the sky.
"Come, Robert, what are you doing? We have to go. The kind uncle is with his mother, talking about something. So come with me."
Mare reached out to her little brother. Robert looked at her, grabbed her, and jumped up full of spirit. "Good if you say so; the uncle must be kind; the others had so much joy coming this way."
The two walked hand in hand towards the group of people; they had much pace to pick up; they were far behind the others. Mary picked Robert up and carried him on her back in order to reach the group of people faster.
"Hey guys, wait."