Don't stop.
Branches clawed at her arms like desperate fingers as she plunged into the thick underbrush. Every step was a gamble—roots threatened to twist her ankles, thorns tore at her sleeves, but she couldn't slow down. Behind her, the thunder of hooves cracked through the silence, growing louder, relentless. The enemy rode like a storm, guided by steel and vengeance.
Her breath burned, lungs screaming for mercy, but adrenaline numbed the pain. Leaves slapped her face, the forest swallowing her whole as she darted between trees like a shadow chased by fire. The canopy above flickered with moonlight, casting the forest floor in a broken mosaic of silver and black.
A sharp cry echoed behind her—the riders had spotted her again.
But she didn’t look back. Not even once. In that moment, the forest wasn’t just a refuge. It was a labyrinth. And she was its ghost.
Branches clawed at her arms like desperate fingers as she plunged into the thick underbrush. Every step was a gamble—roots threatened to twist her ankles, thorns tore at her sleeves, but she couldn't slow down. Behind her, the thunder of hooves cracked through the silence, growing louder, relentless. The enemy rode like a storm, guided by steel and vengeance.
Her breath burned, lungs screaming for mercy, but adrenaline numbed the pain. Leaves slapped her face, the forest swallowing her whole as she darted between trees like a shadow chased by fire. The canopy above flickered with moonlight, casting the forest floor in a broken mosaic of silver and black.
A sharp cry echoed behind her—the riders had spotted her again.
But she didn’t look back. Not even once. In that moment, the forest wasn’t just a refuge. It was a labyrinth. And she was its ghost.
What had happened?
The village had always been a quiet one—tucked away at the edge of the forest like a secret whispered between mountains. She hadn’t expected trouble, not that night. The sky was bruised with twilight, and the first stars were flickering awake when the rumble began—soft at first, like distant thunder. Then came the screams.
They were already through the gates by the time she reached the edge of the square. Riders cloaked in black, faces masked, swords gleaming red with firelight. They didn’t shout orders. They didn’t need to. Their presence was command enough.
She grabbed the small satchel—nothing more than a flask of water, a torn map, and an old charm her grandmother had once called “for protection.” Then she ran.
She saw the elder fall. A neighbor’s home collapse in flame. The horsemen didn’t pursue her immediately—they didn’t think she mattered. But then one turned. A glint of recognition. And the chase began.
The village had always been a quiet one—tucked away at the edge of the forest like a secret whispered between mountains. She hadn’t expected trouble, not that night. The sky was bruised with twilight, and the first stars were flickering awake when the rumble began—soft at first, like distant thunder. Then came the screams.
They were already through the gates by the time she reached the edge of the square. Riders cloaked in black, faces masked, swords gleaming red with firelight. They didn’t shout orders. They didn’t need to. Their presence was command enough.
She grabbed the small satchel—nothing more than a flask of water, a torn map, and an old charm her grandmother had once called “for protection.” Then she ran.
She saw the elder fall. A neighbor’s home collapse in flame. The horsemen didn’t pursue her immediately—they didn’t think she mattered. But then one turned. A glint of recognition. And the chase began.
Why were they chasing her?
Long before the village was built, the land was part of an ancient kingdom—one ruled not by kings, but by those who guarded the Veil: a mystical boundary between the waking world and something far older. The charm her grandmother gave her? A relic from that forgotten time. A key, really. But it didn’t look like one. It looked like nothing.
Over the centuries, the knowledge faded, and the village unknowingly grew atop one of the Veil’s last anchors. Most lived and died there never knowing the power that slumbered beneath their feet.
But someone remembered.
The riders weren’t raiders. Not exactly. They were seekers—sent by a warlord who believed the charm could unravel the Veil, granting him dominion over both worlds. They came for the girl because the charm had chosen her. And as they crossed into the village that night, they weren’t just hunting her—they were hunting a future that refused to bend.
Long before the village was built, the land was part of an ancient kingdom—one ruled not by kings, but by those who guarded the Veil: a mystical boundary between the waking world and something far older. The charm her grandmother gave her? A relic from that forgotten time. A key, really. But it didn’t look like one. It looked like nothing.
Over the centuries, the knowledge faded, and the village unknowingly grew atop one of the Veil’s last anchors. Most lived and died there never knowing the power that slumbered beneath their feet.
But someone remembered.
The riders weren’t raiders. Not exactly. They were seekers—sent by a warlord who believed the charm could unravel the Veil, granting him dominion over both worlds. They came for the girl because the charm had chosen her. And as they crossed into the village that night, they weren’t just hunting her—they were hunting a future that refused to bend.
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