A young girl sat in a forest on a tree stump, a black snake coiled around her neck.
She sucked on a sucker, gazing up at the blue sky in quiet contemplation.
On her hip was a blade, and her left hand was covered by a brown glove.
The snake glanced at her, then up at the sky, and spoke in a deep, brooding voice, "So, is this all you're going to do?"
The girl clicked her tongue in irritation. "Oh, leave me alone, Serpens. I'm just trying to enjoy the nice weather."
It was indeed a beautiful day.
A cool breeze rustled the leaves, and the temperature was perfect—leaning more toward the colder side as autumn was beginning, her favorite time of year.
She had black hair cut into a neat bob, and her brown skin contrasted with the dark cloak and tight brown pants she wore, though the snug fit didn't bother her.
At thirteen, She spent her time studying magic and spells alone in these woods.
Further north stood her treehouse, where she kept all five copies of the *Sage's Tomes*, essential texts for studying and mastering magic. These texts were written 800 years ago by the Great Sage, marking the advent of magic, when humans first acquired magical abilities.
The young girl lived on the continent of Aquila, just east of the continent of Auriga. Aquila, located at the center of the world map, was the largest continent. Unlike Auriga, Aquila had no single king; instead, it was divided into various factions, each led by a Emperor.
To inherit leadership, one had to either be the son of the previous ruler or usurp the position—something tolerated only if the former ruler had been a tyrant.
The girl belonged to the southwestern region called Altair, known for its luscious forests and jungles. Although she had skills in various forms of magic, her primary role was that of a healer.
Serpens, the snake draped over her shoulders, had bitten her a year before, forever changing her life.
---
One day, she had felt utterly depressed. A war had broken out between her fraction, Altair, and the neighboring Vega fraction. Her eldest brother went to fight in it—and was brutally killed on the battlefield.
A soldier who had been close to him asked for permission to inform the family of the tragic news. When he arrived, the girl was the first to open the door.
"Dakarai!" she greeted, seeing the soldier.
But his face was solemn and gloomy, and it didn't take long for her to realize why he was there—and why her brother was not.
Dakarai gathered the family together in the kitchen, and when she heard her brother was dead, she ran out of the house in tears, fleeing into a jungle.
She wandered the familiar woods, sometimes weeping, sometimes numb, until she found a rock by the river to sit on. She stared at her reflection in the water, her red eyes swollen from crying.
Then, something crept up beside her.
She turned to look—and there, slithering beside her, was a bronze-colored snake. Normally, she would have been frightened, but at that moment, she simply didn't care.
The snake looked up at her and spoke. "What's the matter?"
She blinked in surprise. "You… talk?"
"Of course I can. What's the matter?"
"How can you talk?"
"It's a long story. I'll tell you later."
She looked back at the river. "My brother died."
"Ooh. What a shame."
"And not just that—I cried because other people's fathers and brothers are dying too. And there's nothing I can do to stop it."
The snake was silent for a while. Then it finally spoke again.
"Perhaps… there is something you can do."
She wiped her eyes, confused. "Huh?"
"What's your name?"
"Rasalhague."
"Well, Rasalhague, stick out your hand."
Hesitantly, she obeyed.
"I'm Serpens. Let's get along from here on out, shall we?"
Then, Serpens bit her arm.
Pain shot up through her body, and she was about to scream—but just as quickly, the pain disappeared.
She stared at the snake in shock. "What did you do?"
"I did something special," Serpens replied, laughing. "I've put healing magic in you, as well as my venom. With my venom, you'll be able to channel it into a sword and use it in combat. One cut from that blade will be fatal—there's no cure for the venom."
"But… it's inside me!"
"Yes, but so is my healing ability. The two will work together inside you. The healing, however, is much stronger than the venom. With it, you'll be a great support to others—and with the venom, a formidable opponent."
Rasalhague glanced at her left hand, now black. "Ah! My hand!"
"Relax. You'll be fine. You'll just need to cover that hand with a glove. Anything you touch with it will be poisoned."
"I-I didn't ask for this!"
"Trust me," Serpens said. "It'll give you strength. It's a dangerous world out there, and little girls don't often survive very long."
A shiver ran down her spine as she gulped.
"That right hand of yours is perfectly normal, though—that's for healing. But if you're not touching a wound, it's fine. Best start studying magic and energy levels from now on."
From that day forward, Rasalhague dedicated herself to sword fighting and studying magic.
---
Now, sitting on the stump, she replayed those events in her mind.
As she did, a woman in a nurse's outfit came running toward her.
Rasalhague looked up, sighing. "Need my help again?"
"Yes," the nurse said. "More wounded soldiers have arrived."
Rasalhague muttered under her breath, "This damn war."
She stood up, following the nurse toward the tent where the wounded lay.