Hela adjusted the strap of her herb basket as she wandered deeper into the forest, the familiar scents of moss and damp earth filling her senses. This was her daily routine—venturing into the dense woods to gather herbs for her mother, a skilled herbalist known for creating remedies that kept their small village healthy. Hela wore her usual attire: a snug tunic and trousers that allowed for easy movement, sturdy boots for trekking the uneven forest floor, and a dagger strapped securely to her waist, always ready in case she encountered the forest's many creatures.
As she crouched to pluck a cluster of feverfew from the ground, a sudden chill crept up her spine. She froze, her hand hovering over the herbs, and listened. At first, there was only the sound of leaves rustling in the wind. But then she heard it—footsteps, rapid and frantic, accompanied by the unmistakable clash of swords.
Her heart quickened. Hela stood and scanned her surroundings, her senses sharp from years of navigating the forest, where monsters roamed freely at night. While danger was not unfamiliar, this was different. The clash of swords was foreign to her—a sound that belonged to battlefields, not the quiet woods near her village.
The noise grew louder. Instinct took over, and Hela darted behind a thick oak tree, pressing her back against its rough bark. She peeked around the trunk, her breathing shallow. A figure emerged from the dense foliage—a man, dressed in a tattered coat, running as if his life depended on it.
Behind him, a group of soldiers surged forward, their weapons gleaming under the streaks of sunlight breaking through the canopy. The man in the coat—his face pale but determined—threw fireballs from his hands, the flames roaring to life as they streaked toward his pursuers. Hela's eyes widened. Magic users were rare, and the sight of someone wielding such power left her in stunned silence.
But the soldiers were relentless. They closed in, and one by one, the man's protectors fell. Their armored bodies hit the ground with sickening thuds, the metallic clang of swords falling silent.
The man in the coat, now alone, skidded to a halt in a small clearing not far from where Hela hid. His chest heaved as he turned to face his enemies. Flames crackled around his hands as he assumed a defensive stance.
"Gerard, surrender," said the leader of the soldiers, a man clad in golden armor that glinted menacingly in the sunlight. His voice was calm but carried an edge of triumph.
"Never," Gerard spat, his eyes blazing orange as the fire around him intensified. His voice was defiant, unyielding. "The Aries will never fall."
Hela's breath caught in her throat. The Aries? She had heard of the Zodiac Cards in whispered legends, ancient artifacts said to grant extraordinary powers to their bearers.
The man in gold armor laughed, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Hela's spine. "The Zodiac is finished, Gerard. It's time to welcome the New Stellars."
With a sudden burst of speed, the golden-armored man lunged forward, his sword slashing through Gerard's defenses. The flame-wielder staggered, blood staining his coat as he fell to his knees. Even then, he tried to fight, summoning the last of his strength to hurl a desperate fireball.
But it wasn't enough. The golden-armored soldier smirked and delivered the final blow, his sword slicing through Gerard's chest. The flames around him extinguished, leaving only the faint crackle of embers.
From her hiding spot, Hela clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. Her body trembled, torn between the instinct to flee and the horrifying compulsion to watch.
As Gerard crumpled to the ground, his body slumped against the blood-soaked earth. But before his final breath escaped, his gaze shifted, as if sensing her presence. His bloodied hand reached out weakly toward her hiding place.
"Aries... lives," he whispered, and in an instant, the air around him shimmered. A fiery red card materialized in his palm, its glow pulsating like a heartbeat. With a flicker of energy, the card shot toward Hela, its brilliance blinding her for a moment.
When the light dimmed, Hela felt a strange warmth in her chest. She looked down to see the Aries Card resting in her hands, its surface glowing faintly with power.
The forest was eerily silent now, save for the retreating footsteps of the soldiers. The golden-armored man didn't notice her—or the card—as he led his troops away, laughing victoriously.
Hela stared at the card, her heart racing. She didn't fully understand what had just happened, but one thing was clear: her life would never be the same again.