Sunlight, warm and golden, streamed through the gaps in the shutters, painting familiar patterns on the rough wooden floor of the small cottage. Outside, the sounds of Oakhaven waking were a comforting murmur – the rhythmic clang-clang of Torvin the blacksmith already at his forge, the lowing of cows being led out to the nearby pasture, the cheerful greetings exchanged between villagers starting their day. Birds chirped brightly in the eaves, and the air drifting through the open window carried the clean, crisp scent of pine needles and damp earth from the surrounding whisperwood. It was, by all appearances, just another peaceful morning in the quiet logging village.
However, Mina couldn't sleep or didn't sleep whole night. She has collected so many healing herbs and now she is distributing them into bags. Only she was nervous today.
Five years she'd lived as Hinaria. Five years this simple village, nestled against the dark green peaceful forest, had become home. Borin, the gruff woodsman who treated her as his own daughter; Finn, the awkward boy next door who became her friend since first strange meeting; kind Mistress Emi at the bakery – they were real now, not just names on a page. And today, they are to set suffer.
"Easy there, girl"
Borin's deep voice startled her as he entered, carrying firewood. He stopped, looking at the numerous small cloth bags filled with dried herbs covering the table.
"By the spirits, Hina, what's all this? Planning to treat the whole kingdom? These'll spoil packed away like that for too long."
His weathered face creased with concern as he looked at her pale, tense expression. "You look pale as a ghost and are trembling like a leaf."
"Just... preparing, Father," Hinaria mumbled, avoiding his gaze, tying another bag shut with trembling fingers. There might not be nearly enough for what's coming today.
Today was the day the book described. The raid. The screams. The fire. How could she warn them? How could she keep them safe until Hero arrives? Could she run out and shout, "Today a huge raid happens! Many will die, few will survive! But don't worry, a hero will save us?!" No. They'd think she is crazy, possessed. These past five years had been the most peaceful she'd ever known, a stark contrast to the chaos the book promised today. They wouldn't believe her. She'd done what little she could – stockpiled herbs, urged caution. Pathetic gestures against a foregone conclusion.
Her heart thudded. Hero. Aelric. He was supposed to appear today, the tragic hero. Would he be as noble, as kind, as handsome as the words had painted him? Could she meet him? Help him? The thought warred with the rising tide of terror for the people around her. She looked at Borin, his solid presence suddenly achingly precious. The book said many died... does her father also belongs in 'many'? She couldn't imagine it. She wants her father to live Could she save her father?
Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream ripped through the morning air, slicing through the peaceful sounds. It came from the direction of the village, a few houses away. Borin dropped the firewood instantly, his hand reaching for the heavy wood-axe leaning by the doorframe. "Stay inside, Hina!" he commanded, his face suddenly grim, alert. He turned and ran towards the source of the scream.
But Hinaria was already moving, grabbing one of the larger bags of herbs she'd prepared. "Already started? Now?" Her heart hammered against her ribs. She ignored Borin's order, fear warring with the desperate need to see, to help. She followed him out into the sunlight, running towards the growing commotion near the well.
Villagers were gathered there, forming a nervous semi-circle around a dark hole in the ground, roughly wide enough for a person to fall through. Some peered down fearfully, others kept their distance, whispering anxiously. Borin pushed through the crowd.
"What's happened?" he demanded, his voice sharp.
A young man near the edge, pale-faced, pointed down. "It was Saki, Borin! She was just standing there, talking... and the ground just... broke open! She fell right in!"
Just then, Borin noticed Hinaria standing beside him, clutching her bag of herbs. "Hina! I told you to stay inside! Why did you follow me?" he scolded, his worry evident.
"I thought... I thought someone might be hurt," she stammered, gesturing with the bag. "I brought herbs... in case my help was needed." Over the past five years, her knack for healing minor cuts and soothing fevers with herbs and the quiet touch of her strange inner warmth had made her the village's unofficial healer.
Borin sighed, his anger softening slightly. "Alright, Hina. But stay back. Be careful." He turned back to the hole, kneeling cautiously at the edge, peering into the darkness. "Saki!" he bellowed, his voice echoing into the depths. "Saki, can you hear me?!"
Silence for a beat. Then, a low, wet skittering sound drifted up, accompanied by a foul, earthy stench. It wasn't a human sound. Before Borin could react, a blur of dark, chitinous claws lashed out from the hole with terrifying speed. They caught him across the face, tearing flesh, and hooked into his tunic. With horrifying strength, the claws pulled. Borin gave a choked gasp, his eyes wide with shock and agony, and vanished into the hole before he could even scream.
"FATHER!!!"
Hina shrieked, the sound raw, torn from the deepest part of her soul.
Panic exploded. More chitinous horrors clawed from the earth. Simultaneously, flaming arrows arched down from the sky, hitting roofs. Goblins did pour from the woods, but alongside them charged hulking green brutes with tusks. And overhead, leathery shapes swooped, breathing fire.
This wasn't the raid from the book. This was worse. Unimaginably worse. The sights, the sounds, the smell of burning homes and flesh – it was visceral, overwhelming. Reading about death was nothing like watching the empty space where Borin had just been standing.
Tears streamed down her face. "Why so sudden? What should I do?". People she knew were dying, screaming. The healer in her screamed to act, to help. But Mina couldn't move. Her feet were fused to the ground. The sheer horror, the violent deviation from the known script, the brutal reality of death – it shattered her. The girl who dreamed of helping the hero was paralyzed by stark, naked terror, watching her world burn.