Leaves crunched beneath my aching feet, each step unsteady, too loud. The cold gnawed through the rips in my cloak, a sharp contrast to the fire I’d left behind. The fire that had devoured everything.
Velmora was gone.
Smoke still smudged the sky behind me, a dark wound against the stars. I kept running, even though my legs screamed for rest, even though my lungs burned with each breath.
Because if I stopped—
The memories would catch up.
Screams. Steel clashing. Magic splitting the air like thunder. The stench of burning wood and worse—flesh.
Most of all, I heard her.
"Run, Elya. No matter what happens—run."
My mother’s voice had been steady, but I’d heard the fear beneath it. The terror she hadn’t let show.
I didn’t know if she had survived. If anyone had.
My fingers tightened around the grimoire clutched to my chest. The leather cover was worn smooth, familiar. The last piece of my mother I still had.
That, and the charm hanging against my collarbone. A silver crescent moon—small, simple, but precious. She’d given it to me when I was little.
"So you’ll always carry a piece of our magic with you."
Except that magic had failed us.
I swallowed hard, pushing down the knot in my throat.
I couldn’t stop. Not yet.
"Keep moving."
---
By dawn, exhaustion weighed on me like chains.
The forest no longer felt like a sanctuary—it felt like a trap. The trees pressed in, twisted and skeletal in the pale light. I had always known Velmora as a place of safety, but now there was nowhere safe.
The wind stirred the branches. A sound—soft, distant. The snap of a twig.
I froze. My pulse hammered.
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A wolf? A scout?
I pressed myself against the rough bark of a tree, listening. Holding my breath.
Silence
Had I imagined it? Or was something watching?
A shiver ran down my spine, but I forced my feet forward.
Eventually, I stumbled upon a stream. Water. Relief surged through me as I dropped to my knees, cupping handfuls of the icy liquid to my lips. It burned against my parched throat, but I didn’t care.
Then I caught my reflection.
A ghost stared back at me from the rippling surface. Soot-streaked skin, violet eyes dull and shadowed. My lips were cracked, my hands trembling from exhaustion.
I barely looked like myself.
My fingers curled into fists.
"I was useless."
The thought burned through me, worse than the hunger in my belly. I slammed my fist into the water, shattering my reflection.
If I had been stronger—if I had fought harder—maybe I wouldn’t be alone.
Maybe Velmora wouldn’t be gone.
I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to my feet. I couldn’t afford weakness anymore.
---
The stream led me forward. I followed, step after step, because I didn’t know what else to do.
The trees thinned. Rolling hills stretched ahead, their golden grass swaying in the early light. But my relief was short-lived—hunger gnawed at my insides, twisting like a blade.
I exhaled slowly, trying to summon even the smallest flicker of magic. Just enough warmth to keep the cold at bay.
I reached inward, pulling at the familiar well of power.
Nothing happened.
A chill ran through me—different from the cold.
I tried again, harder. Willed a spark to form at my fingertips.
Still, nothing.
Panic clawed at my ribs.
"No, no, no—"
I staggered, gripping a tree for balance. My magic had never felt like this before. It wasn’t just weak. It was—absent.
Empty.
Arkanila magic wasn’t about power alone—it was about will. Imagination.
And right now, all I felt was nothing.
"If I can’t even use my magic… what am I supposed to do?"
I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing myself to breathe.
Giving up wasn’t an option.
I kept walking.
---
By nightfall, I found it.
A village, nestled in the valley below.
For a moment, my breath caught. Shelter. People. Hope.
But as I got closer, that hope soured into unease.
The village was peaceful—too peaceful. No one looked over their shoulder. No one whispered in fear.
They had no idea what it was like to be hunted.
My stomach twisted with envy.
Then I saw the bounty board.
I approached, pulse quickening as I read the parchment nailed to the wood:
[WANTED: Witches and Arkanila Users. Reward: 50 gold per confirmed kill.]
Ice settled in my veins.
Even outside Velmora, the hunt never ended.
I pulled my hood lower, tucking the silver streaks of my hair out of sight. I needed to get out before someone saw me.
But my stomach ached with hunger.
I had nothing—no food, no coin, no allies.
If I wanted to survive, I had to take what I needed.
---
The scent of fresh bread nearly undid me.
The baker’s stall was close—rows of golden loaves, still warm from the oven.
I waited until the merchant turned his back.
Then—I grabbed a loaf and slipped it beneath my cloak.
I turned to leave—
A rough hand clamped around my wrist.
"Thief!"
Panic slammed into me.
"Let me go!" I gasped, twisting against his grip.
People turned. Murmurs spread.
A magic knight—Runetha-forged sword at his hip—looked up.
His gaze locked onto me.
No, no, no—
I wrenched myself free and bolted.
Shouts erupted. Footsteps pounded after me.
I dodged through the streets, weaving between startled villagers. I turned a corner, nearly colliding with a cart.
The knight was faster. Closing in.
I felt when he reached for his sword.
I had no choice.
I stopped, turned—threw out my hand.
A pulse of violet light exploded from my palm. Mana crackled through the air, knocking the knight back.
A woman screamed.
"A WITCH!"
The word spread like wildfire.
The knight recovered, eyes wide with recognition. His hand flew to his sword
—
I didn’t wait.
I ran until my legs gave out.
Collapsed against the base of a tree, chest heaving, I pressed my forehead against the rough bark.
"I was careless."
The village would talk. The kingdom would hear.
They would come for me.
My fingers dug into my grimoire.
No home. No allies. And now, I was being hunted.
But I wasn’t going to die like this.
I had to become stronger
I looked up at the night sky, heart pounding.
This was only the beginning.
And I wasn’t ready for what came next.
[End of Chapter 2]