Chapter One
Screams tore through the night. The once peaceful village of Eldermere burned, the glow of fire turning the sky a violent orange. Smoke curled into the air, thick and suffocating, drowning out the scent of pine and earth that once filled the valley.
Inside a small wooden cottage, Nana's father shoved a wooden chest aside, revealing a hidden trapdoor. "Quickly!" he urged, his voice low but firm.
Nana's mother pulled her close, her fingers trembling as she brushed Nana's hair back. "Stay quiet, no matter what happens."
Her younger brother, barely five, whimpered as their mother pushed him into the cramped space beneath the floor. Nana hesitated, her heart pounding. Then the door burst open.
Dark figures filled the doorway, their eyes gleaming in the firelight. The scent of blood clung to them.
Nana's father reached for his hunting knife, but he barely got the chance to raise it before a sword cut through the air, silencing him. Her mother screamed, shielding Nana with her body, but another blade found her too. Blood splattered across Nana's face.
Her brother sobbed in the darkness below, but the soldiers didn't hear him—or didn't care. One of them, a man with cold, unreadable eyes, grabbed Nana by the arm and dragged her toward the door.
"She's young," another soldier muttered.
"Our master will like this one."
Nana kicked and thrashed, her cries swallowed by the chaos outside. The last thing she saw before being hauled into the night was her family's lifeless bodies on the wooden floor.
Nana fought with everything she had, twisting and thrashing against the iron grip on her arm. "Let me go!" she screamed, her voice raw with grief and fury.
The soldier hauling her forward barely flinched. His grip tightened like a vice. "Stop struggling, girl."
But Nana didn't stop. She kicked at his legs, dug her nails into his wrist, and even tried to bite. Nothing worked.
"Let me go!" she yelled again, her feet dragging against the dirt as they pulled her toward the village square. The sight made her stomach lurch—bodies lay scattered, homes reduced to smoldering ruins.
"Feisty one," another soldier muttered, amused.
The man holding her yanked her forward, his patience wearing thin. "Enough."
Nana twisted hard, her nails drawing blood from his arm. He cursed and slapped her across the face. The force sent her stumbling, her vision blurring.
"She's got fire," the first soldier said, gripping her arm again and pulling her upright. "Our master will like this one."
Nana's heart pounded. She had no idea who their master was, but she knew one thing—she wasn't going to let them take her without a fight.
The screams had faded into distant echoes, drowned by the roar of flames consuming everything Nana had ever known. The air was thick with smoke, making her eyes sting, but she no longer fought. She had no more strength left to fight.
Her feet dragged against the dirt as the soldier pulled her forward, but she no longer resisted. Her body felt numb, her mind unable to process what had just happened.
She turned her head, her gaze locked on the burning village behind her. Homes that once stood strong were now reduced to ash. The marketplace where she had played as a child was gone. Bodies littered the ground—some she recognized, some she didn't.
Her family lay among them.
Her father's body was sprawled near the entrance of their home, his knife still clutched in his hand. He had tried to fight. Her mother's lifeless form lay beside him, her arms outstretched as if she had been trying to reach for Nana.
Her little brother was nowhere to be seen.
Maybe he was still hidden. Maybe he had escaped.
A part of her wanted to scream, to cry, to run back to them. But what was the point? They were gone. She was the only one left.
She barely noticed when a soldier rode past on horseback, glancing at her with mild interest. "Only one taken?" he asked.
The man holding her nodded.
Nana didn't react. She just kept walking, her gaze never leaving the burning ruins of her home until they were too far away to see it anymore.