Rose-Colored Memories
On a radiant summer morning in the quaint village of Dotphia, a little fox girl named Asadei stirred awake, her crystal-blue eyes fluttering open to the delightful aroma of freshly baked apple pie. Her grandmother, a woman who embodied warmth and love, had already risen at dawn to prepare Asadei’s favorite treat. Without a moment’s hesitation, Asadei leaped from her bed and raced downstairs, her heart light with joy.
At the table, her grandmother sat with a steaming cup of tea, smiling warmly as a generous slice of pie awaited Asadei.
“How did you sleep, sunshine?” her grandmother asked, but Asadei had already sunk her teeth into the sweet apple filling.
“Slow down! It’s not going anywhere,” her grandmother chuckled, pouring her a glass of milk. “Besides, you have school today.”
Asadei groaned, her joy momentarily dampened. “But school is so boring! We’re learning math and Esterton etiquette. I want to train with Uncle Tamotsu!”
Her grandmother’s laughter softened into a gentle sigh. “You know school is important, young lady. You can’t spend all day swinging wooden swords.”
“Why not?” Asadei pouted, wiping a bit of pie from her lips. “I want to be a warrior, like Father! How’s etiquette supposed to help with that?”
Her grandmother’s smile turned wistful. “You’re lucky I even let you train with Tamotsu. He’s been pestering me for months to give you lessons. One day, you’ll become a renowned chef, just like your mother dreamed. A noble profession.”
“No, Granny! I’ll be a warrior,” Asadei said, her small fists clenching with determination. “I’ll travel the world and help people, just like Father did!”
Her grandmother’s gaze softened, her hand brushing Asadei’s bright red hair. “Enough of that now. Go get ready for school.”
Though still brimming with resistance, Asadei obeyed, her mind already drifting back to the life she longed for.
Later that day, Asadei found herself trudging through the mundane routine of school. Children ran across the yard, shouting and laughing, while a young teacher led them inside to begin lessons on Ylisport agriculture. Asadei’s thoughts, however, were far from math or etiquette. Her eyes drifted to the window, longing for the woods, for adventure, for something that didn’t feel so... ordinary.
When the final bell rang, Asadei didn’t waste a second. She darted from the building, her heart racing as her feet carried her to the nearby forest—a place where the weight of expectations couldn’t reach her.
In the quiet of the woods, she stumbled upon an unsettling scene: three older boys were taunting a smaller boy, shoving him back and forth. Asadei felt a surge of anger rising in her chest, that familiar heat when she saw something unjust.
“Hey! Leave him alone!” she shouted, storming over to the group.
The biggest boy smirked, his face full of arrogance. “Oh, look. A girl’s come to save the day.”
“I said, leave him alone!” Asadei repeated, positioning herself between the smaller boy and his bullies.
“And what are you going to do about it?” the bully sneered, giving her a hard shove. Asadei stumbled, the taste of blood fresh on her lips. Fury ignited within her. Without a second thought, she swung her fist, connecting with the boy’s nose.
“THIS!” she yelled.
Blood gushed from the bully’s nose, and his face contorted in pain. “She broke my nose!” he screamed, tears welling up in his eyes. The other boys, now terrified, ran off without looking back.
Asadei turned to the smaller boy, concern replacing her anger. “Are you alright? What did they want from you?”
“They were making fun of my doll,” the boy whispered, holding up a small, well-loved figure. “My mom gave it to me before she left for Esterton. She’s a scientist there. I haven’t seen her in over a year…”
Asadei’s heart softened. “It’s a nice doll. My name’s Asadei. What’s yours?”
“Sam,” the boy replied shyly.
“Nice to meet you, Sam,” she said with a bright smile. “Those jerks won’t bother you again.”
“Thank you for helping me,” Sam said, his voice trembling with gratitude.
“No problem,” Asadei waved it off, her smile widening. “Where do you live? Maybe we can walk together?”
“By the river, on the other side of the forest,” Sam answered.
“Perfect! I’m heading that way myself,” Asadei said cheerfully.
As they walked together, an unexpected friendship began to blossom.
“Where are your parents?” Sam asked, curiosity edging into his voice.
“They’re gone,” Asadei said quietly. “My mother died giving birth to me, and my father... well, he died in the Forest War. He stayed behind so his comrades could escape. They called him a hero.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam said softly, his heart heavy with sympathy.
“It’s okay,” Asadei replied, a fierce glint in her eyes. “I live with my grandma now, and one day, I’ll be a famous warrior, just like my father.”
Sam smiled weakly. “After what you did today, I believe it.”
Asadei laughed, and for a brief moment, the weight of the world felt a little lighter.
At twelve, Asadei’s world was divided between the monotony of school and the exhilaration of training under the village’s seasoned warrior, Tamotsu. In the training yard, surrounded by towering pines and the ever-present scent of moss, Asadei honed her sword skills, her small body swift and agile.
The world beyond Dotphia, however, was shifting. Whispers of an ancient threat crept into the village like a distant storm. The once-muted sounds of war now grew louder, unsettling the peaceful life Asadei had known.
Tamotsu intensified their training. The wooden sword was replaced with steel, and every lesson felt more urgent. Asadei learned not just to strike but to anticipate, to evade, and to feel the rhythm of battle beneath her feet. Still, she was restless, eager to prove herself in a real fight.
Five years later, at seventeen, Asadei had grown into a striking young woman. Her vibrant red hair flowed behind her as she sparred in the training yard, her steel sword gleaming under the sun. Her once-childlike energy had given way to fierce determination. But with each passing day, she felt the weight of expectation heavy on her shoulders.
Tamotsu, her master and guardian in many ways, watched her closely during training. “You seem tense today,” he noted, his voice calm as ever. “You attack without thought.”
“I’m ready for a real fight, Master,” Asadei replied, her tone edged with frustration. “I’ve been training for years. When will I be allowed to face a real opponent?”
“You’ll be ready when I say so,” Tamotsu said, deflecting another of her wild swings. “Your father was the same. Always eager for battle.”
Asadei paused, her interest piqued. “You fought with him, didn’t you?”
“I did,” Tamotsu said, his eyes growing distant. “He was called ‘The Beast’—strong as a bear, fast as a cheetah. If you saw him on the battlefield, you knew death was close.”
Asadei stood still, her heart aching with longing to live up to her father’s legacy. “What made him a great warrior?”
“Knowledge,” Tamotsu said simply. “Your father knew the mind of his enemy. He understood the land, the weather, the way the wind would blow. He didn’t just fight with his body—he fought with his mind.”
Asadei lowered her sword, the weight of Tamotsu’s words sinking in. “You’ve been skipping school again, haven’t you?”
She grimaced. “But it’s so boring…”
Tamotsu’s gaze hardened. “If you want to wield that sword and survive in battle, you need more than brute strength. You need discipline, knowledge, and patience. Do you understand?”
“Yes… Master,” Asadei replied, though the fire in her still burned fiercely.
That evening, Asadei returned home to her grandmother, humming a quiet tune as she made her way through the forest. She felt lighter, despite the day’s challenges. But her joy was short-lived as she was greeted by her grandmother’s stern voice.
“You’re late again.”
“I was training with Uncle Tamotsu,” Asadei replied, her excitement deflating under her grandmother’s cold gaze.
“I spoke with your teacher today,” her grandmother said, arms crossed. “You’ve been skipping school.”
“I’m sorry, Grandma…” Asadei mumbled, eyes cast downward.
Her grandmother’s voice softened, but her words cut deep. “You’re seventeen now. I let this dream of yours go on for far too long, thinking it was just a phase. But it’s time to take your life seriously.”
“I will, Granny. I’ll become a warrior. I’ll make you proud, I promise,” Asadei said, though uncertainty tugged at her.
Her grandmother’s eyes filled with sorrow. “I won’t lose you like I lost your father. I won’t”
That night, Asadei lay in her bed, torn between the dreams of her father’s legacy and the reality her grandmother had so firmly set before her. The weight of her grandmother’s words pressed against her chest, and for the first time in years, doubt began to creep into her heart. Was it truly foolish to pursue a warrior’s life? Perhaps her grandmother was right—perhaps her father’s death was a warning, not a legacy to uphold.
But the thought of living an ordinary life, confined to the village, filled Asadei with dread. Her father’s memory was all she had to cling to, the one thing that made her feel connected to something larger than herself.
Asadei pulled the blanket tighter around her, staring out at the moonlit sky through her window. “What do I do, Father?” she whispered into the darkness, tears welling up in her eyes. “I want to be like you, but I don’t want to hurt Granny...”
Asadei cried herself to sleep that night, the battle between her heart and mind unresolved.
The next morning, Asadei woke with a renewed sense of purpose. If there was one thing her father had taught her, it was to trust her instincts. She was meant for more than the simple life her grandmother wanted for her. The pull of her destiny was too strong to ignore.
Quietly, she packed her bow, a quiver of arrows, and her sword. She wasn’t running away, not yet, but she needed clarity—something only the forest and the wild could give her.
Asadei left before her grandmother woke, heading to the village’s hunting grounds where Tamotsu and his hunting crew were gathering. She arrived before anyone else, her heart racing with excitement and trepidation. She was ready for anything the world threw her way—or at least, she told herself she was.
“You’re early,” Tamotsu noted as he approached, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “But I’m not surprised.”
As the rest of the group gathered, the usual banter filled the air. Peete, the village drunk, couldn’t resist poking fun at Asadei.
“Didn’t know we needed a waitress in the wild, Tamotsu,” Peete jeered, his breath reeking of ale.
Tamotsu shot him a withering look. “Leave her alone, Peete. She’s proven herself more than capable.”
The hunting crew began their journey into the forest, the tension in the air palpable. Their mission today wasn’t an ordinary hunt; it was one of caution. Whispers had spread of the return of the white wolf—a creature that had terrorized the village for years. The white wolf descended from the mountains to slaughter livestock, always retreating before anyone could strike back.
“Remember, we’re not here to hunt the white wolf,” Tamotsu warned as the group trudged deeper into the woods. “She’s rare, and we’ve lost many men trying to take her down. Stick to the task, and stay in pairs.”
A chorus of “yes, master” echoed from the crew, but Asadei couldn’t shake the feeling that something monumental awaited her today. She had heard the legends of the white wolf for as long as she could remember. Something about the creature fascinated her, even though it terrified most.
As they continued deeper into the woods, the day’s hunt was modestly successful. Small game was abundant, but the larger beasts remained elusive. Asadei found herself at a river stream, alone, while the rest of the crew lingered behind. Tamotsu had trusted her enough to let her explore on her own for a bit.
“Go ahead, get back to the others,” Tamotsu had said before, his tone firm but understanding. “I’ll catch up with you.”
She sighed, crouching near the water’s edge to fill her flask when she heard something rustle in the nearby bushes. Slowly, she reached for her bow, her muscles tensing. She expected a boar or perhaps a deer, but what emerged from the underbrush made her heart freeze.
A pair of large, glowing red eyes stared back at her. It was the white wolf, its coat like fresh snow, its eyes burning with an otherworldly intelligence.
Asadei’s breath caught in her throat. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to run, to flee, but something kept her rooted to the spot. The wolf didn’t charge. Instead, it sat still, watching her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.
Slowly, almost instinctively, Asadei lowered her sword. “I’m not here to hurt you,” she whispered, unsure if the creature could understand her, or if she was trying to reassure herself.
The wolf’s gaze never wavered, but its posture was calm. There was no aggression, no threat in its stance. It was almost... curious.
Asadei felt a connection she couldn’t explain. It was as if the creature had come to her for a reason. And then, just as silently as it had appeared, the white wolf turned and vanished into the trees.
Her heart was still pounding when she returned to the hunting crew.
“Where have you been?” Tamotsu asked, his eyes narrowing.
“I saw it,” Asadei replied breathlessly. “I saw the white wolf.”
Tamotsu’s face darkened. “Don’t be ridiculous. No one survives an encounter with that beast.”
“But I did. She’s not here to kill us—she’s just looking for food.”
Tamotsu studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Let’s head back. We’re done for the day.”
Asadei didn’t care that no one believed her. She knew what she had seen, and it haunted her thoughts for days. The white wolf hadn’t attacked her. It had let her go, as if there was some unspoken understanding between them. The connection lingered in her mind, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she would see the wolf again.
Days later, Asadei stood at the kitchen table, her mouth full of cold moussaka, while her grandmother watched her with a knowing glance.
“Where were you that day, Asadei?” her grandmother asked, her tone cold but restrained.
“Out with Sam,” Asadei lied quickly, though the guilt of her words tugged at her heart.
Her grandmother said nothing, her eyes drifting to the violet dress Sam had left for Asadei for the upcoming winter dance. She knew Asadei hadn’t been with Sam.
“I’m going to bed,” her grandmother said abruptly, her voice weary with disappointment.
Asadei felt the sting of her grandmother’s silence, but she kept her head down, determined to hold on to her secret encounter with the white wolf. She knew the truth, and that was enough.
Several days had passed since Asadei’s encounter with the mysterious white wolf, but her thoughts could not shake the eerie moment. Every night since then, she had vivid dreams of the creature, its glowing red eyes staring into her soul. The wolf had saved her, sparing her life when she had expected nothing but death.
That morning, Asadei awoke abruptly, the echoes of the wolf’s voice still resonating in her mind. “Run, live another day,” the wolf had urged her in the dream. She shook her head, trying to dispel the memory. It was just a dream, she told herself.
The familiar smell of apple pie wafted through the house, drawing her out of her musings. She eagerly rushed down the stairs to find her grandmother, as always, waiting for her with a warm breakfast and a soft smile.
“Good morning, sunshine,” her grandmother greeted.
“Ghood moarning,” Asadei mumbled through a mouthful of pie.
Her grandmother chuckled. “Same time as always tonight?” she asked, referring to Asadei’s waitressing shift.
“Yes, Grandma. I’ll be back by 10 p.m.,” Asadei replied, her thoughts elsewhere.
Her grandmother gave her a knowing look but chose not to comment further. Asadei had been restless ever since the wolf encounter. The war with the Lycans weighed heavily on everyone’s mind, and resources were strained. Asadei’s new job as a waitress was necessary to help make ends meet, but it was becoming harder each day with the tension in the air.
That day, as she went about her work, she overheard whispers about strange sightings in the mountains. Stories of wolves—larger and fiercer than normal—prowling the outskirts of villages. Asadei’s heart raced at the thought. Could it be the same wolf? she wondered.
The anticipation for the winter dances had been building for weeks, especially for Sam, Asadei’s best friend. It was a rare festive event in the village, a time for celebration and joy before the deep chill of winter settled in.
“Are you excited for this Sunday?” her grandmother asked, referring to the dances, as she passed Asadei another plate of food.
“What do you mean?” Asadei responded absentmindedly, clearly not sharing the same enthusiasm for the event.
“The winter dances, dear. Sam has been looking forward to it. You should be too.”
“Oh yeah... the dances,” Asadei said, sounding disinterested. “I guess I’m excited.”
“You certainly don’t sound like it,” her grandmother observed.
Asadei smiled weakly. Her mind was occupied with other matters, and though she cherished her friendship with Sam, the thought of the winter dances seemed trivial. However, she couldn’t say no to him; after all, it was his graduation celebration, and he had been so excited.
On her way to school that day, Asadei ran into Sam.
“Hey, nerd!” she teased. “Finally left the house? All those books are going to rot your brain.”
Sam grinned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been studying hard. You know I have to get into Esterton’s University. It’s what I’ve been working for my whole life.”
“I know, I know,” Asadei replied, rolling her eyes playfully. “But don’t forget to enjoy life, too.”
As they walked, Sam changed the topic. “You’re coming to the dances, right? You don’t seem that excited about it.”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Asadei sighed, shaking her head. “Of course, I’m coming. You’re my best friend. How could I not?”
The night of the winter dances had finally arrived. Asadei, reluctantly, spent the afternoon getting ready. Her grandmother watched her as she descended the stairs, dressed in a simple yet elegant violet dress that Sam had left for her.
“Sometimes I forget how much you’ve grown,” her grandmother said, a touch of pride in her voice. She handed Asadei a silver chain with a delicate half-moon pendant that had belonged to her mother. “Wear this tonight. It’s tradition, and your mother would want you to have it.”
Asadei accepted the necklace with a soft smile. “Thank you, Granny.”
When Sam arrived at her house, his jaw dropped at the sight of Asadei. “Wow! You look... beautiful!” he exclaimed, almost in disbelief.
Asadei gave him a playful shove. “I can still beat you up in this dress, you know.”
The two laughed, but when they entered the dance hall, Asadei could feel all eyes on her. The attention was uncomfortable; she was not used to being the center of focus. She tugged at Sam’s sleeve. “Why is everyone staring?” she whispered.
“Because you look stunning, Asadei. No one expected you to come like this.”
Despite her discomfort, she and Sam joined in the festivities, dancing and laughing through the night. For the first time in a long while, Asadei felt a sense of normalcy—briefly forgetting the looming shadows of war and her worries about the white wolf.
As the night wound down, Asadei pulled Sam aside. “Will you forget about me?” she asked, her voice soft with uncertainty. “Now that you’re leaving the village, what will happen to us?”
Sam looked at her with gentle resolve. “I could never forget you, Asa. We’ll still be friends, no matter how far apart we are. I’ll write to you every week.”
“Promise?” she asked, her voice filled with hope.
“Promise,” Sam reassured her, giving her one last hug before they parted ways.
With the winter dances behind her, life in the village returned to its usual rhythm. Sam left for Esterton to pursue his studies, and as promised, he wrote letters to Asadei every week. But the village itself was changing. War was drawing closer to the borders, and Lycans began encroaching deeper into their territory. Tensions mounted as rumors spread that villages were being burned to the ground, with no prisoners taken.
Asadei continued her training with Tomatsu, her resolve growing with each passing day. She felt restless—knowing that her dream of becoming a warrior wasn’t fading but intensifying. She spent more time at the training yard, perfecting her swordsmanship and archery. The quiet life of the village, though comforting in some ways, felt confining.
“Sam,” she wrote in one of her letters, “things here are as usual. But I’m getting worried. The Lycans are growing bolder, and soldiers pass through our village more often now. The war is escalating, and I fear it’s only a matter of time before it reaches us. I miss you and can’t wait for you to come home for the holidays.”
Asadei sealed the letter, her heart heavy with the knowledge that things wouldn’t stay peaceful much longer. Her sense of foreboding lingered, but her thoughts often drifted back to that white wolf. Something about the encounter gnawed at her. It had spared her life, and she still couldn’t understand why.
She trained harder than ever, knowing that whatever was coming, she needed to be ready.
As winter set in, the village of Dotphia underwent a breathtaking transformation. The landscape, once vibrant with autumn colors, was now blanketed in soft, glistening snow. The air was crisp, and the scent of pine mingled with the distant echoes of wind over the mountains. The days grew shorter, and the villagers prepared for the harsh season ahead.
Asadei continued to work at the pub, though her heart wasn’t in it. The tips and wages helped her family, but she longed for something more. She wanted to fight, to defend her home, and to prove herself as a warrior.
“Maybe if you showed some skin, you’d get more tips,” teased Katane, a fellow waitress, as they worked one night.
“I’m here to serve food, not flirt,” Asadei retorted with a grin.
Asadei had become accustomed to the rowdy nature of the pub, and most of the regulars respected her, knowing better than to try anything foolish. Her reputation had grown in the village, not just for her strength, but for her sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude.
It was during one such shift that Sam made an unexpected visit.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the legendary waitress Asadei,” came a familiar voice from behind her as she cleaned off a table.
Startled, Asadei turned to see Sam standing in the doorway, his face lit up with a broad smile. For a moment, all of her exhaustion faded away. Without thinking, she rushed over and threw her arms around him, not caring that her apron was stained with food.
“SAM!” she exclaimed, the joy in her voice unmistakable. “What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn’t be back until next week!”
“I finished my studies early,” he said, pulling back to look at her. “I figured I’d surprise you.”
Asadei’s heart swelled. It had been months since she last saw Sam, and while they had written letters back and forth, nothing compared to seeing him in person. However, before she could ask him more, a soft cough interrupted their reunion.
Standing awkwardly behind Sam was a young woman with long dark hair and sharp features. She wore an elegant coat, clearly from Esterton—far too fancy for the humble village of Dotphia. Sam cleared his throat nervously.
“Asadei, this is Hana,” he introduced her. “Hana, this is Asadei—my best friend.”
Asadei’s smile faltered slightly. “Nice to meet you,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. The tension in her chest tightened as she studied the stranger who stood so close to Sam.
“Same,” Hana replied, her tone clipped and indifferent. It was clear to Asadei that Hana was not particularly thrilled by the introduction.
“Hana’s my girlfriend,” Sam added with a small, sheepish grin. “We met at university. We’ve been together for a few months now.”
Asadei’s stomach churned. Why didn’t he mention this in his letters? she wondered. Was he hiding her? She forced a smile. “That’s... great,” she managed to say, though the words felt heavy.
Sam, perhaps sensing her unease, quickly changed the subject. “I just wanted to stop by and say hello before heading to my parents’ place. Maybe we can catch up properly tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Asadei said, her voice a little more distant than before. “Tomorrow.”
Sam smiled warmly at her, but as he and Hana left, Asadei felt a knot forming in her chest. We, she thought bitterly. From now on, it wasn’t just her and Sam—there would always be her.
After her shift ended, she walked home with heavy steps, her mind replaying the encounter over and over again. Sam had never mentioned Hana in any of his letters, and now, here she was—suddenly part of his life. Part of their life.
That night, Asadei tossed and turned in her bed, unable to shake the feeling of being left behind.
The next morning, Asadei and Sam met at their favorite little café near the village square, a place they used to frequent when they were younger. It felt strange to sit across from him now, knowing that something had shifted between them.
“How have you been, Asa?” Sam asked, his usual warmth back in his voice.
“Same old, same old,” she replied with a shrug. “Working at the pub, training with Tomatsu, you know.”
“And what about the Lycans? I heard the war is getting worse.”
“It is,” Asadei said quietly, her fingers tracing the edge of her teacup. “Soldiers have been marching through the village more often. There’s talk that the Lycans are getting bolder, attacking villages closer to the border.”
Sam frowned. “Are you worried?”
“Of course, I’m worried,” she admitted, finally looking up to meet his eyes. “The war is coming closer to us. I don’t know how much longer we can stay safe here.”
Sam reached across the table and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve always been tough, Asa. I know you’ll be ready for whatever comes.”
Asadei smiled at his words, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m training every day, Sam. I’m doing everything I can to prepare myself.”
Sam’s expression softened. “I’m glad you haven’t given up on your dream.”
For a moment, Asadei felt a flicker of the old connection between them. But then, like a shadow creeping over the sun, the reality of Hana’s presence loomed over their conversation. Asadei couldn’t help but ask, “Are you happy, Sam? With her?”
He smiled, genuinely this time. “I am. She’s… well, she’s different from anyone I’ve ever met. I love her.”
Asadei swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod. “I’m happy for you, then,” she said, though the words felt hollow. She could feel the distance growing between them, a distance that no amount of letters could close.
Time passed, and winter deepened its hold on the village. Snow blanketed the streets, and the days grew shorter. Asadei continued her training, pushing herself harder with each session. Tomatsu had noticed the change in her, and while he didn’t say much, she could see the pride in his eyes. He had begun teaching her more advanced techniques, preparing her for what he knew was coming.
One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, Tomatsu handed her a sword—her first real weapon.
“You’ve earned this,” he said, watching as she took it from him. “But remember, a sword is only as strong as the person who wields it.”
Asadei nodded, her hand closing around the hilt. The weight felt right—solid and reassuring. She knew that this was the next step in her journey, a sign that Tomatsu believed she was ready.
That night, as she walked home with her new sword strapped to her back, the village was quiet. The stars twinkled in the clear winter sky, and for a moment, Asadei allowed herself to enjoy the stillness. But as she approached her home, a strange unease settled over her.
The next morning, the rumors began. A neighboring village had been attacked by Lycans, burned to the ground. There were no survivors.
Asadei’s heart pounded as she listened to the whispered conversations at the market. The war had finally come to their doorstep.
It was a frigid, bitter morning when it happened. Asadei had left the house early, as usual, to train with Tomatsu. The air was sharp, biting at her exposed skin, but she welcomed the cold. It made her feel alive, more focused.
But as she practiced her forms in the training yard, she felt it—the shift in the air. Something was wrong. The birds had gone silent, and the wind carried an eerie stillness.
“Master,” she said, her voice low, “do you feel that?”
Tomatsu frowned, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. “Get back to the village,” he commanded, his voice tense. “Now.”
Asadei didn’t hesitate. She sprinted back toward Dotphia, her heart racing with every step. When she arrived, the sight that greeted her was nothing short of a nightmare. Flames roared through the village, turning homes into ashes. Screams echoed in the distance.
Lycans.
Without thinking, Asadei grabbed her bow and nocked an arrow. Her movements were swift, her focus sharp as she began picking off the Lycans that terrorized her home. One by one, they fell to her arrows, but there were too many of them.
Desperately, she searched the chaos for her grandmother. She had to be safe—she had to be.
Suddenly, a massive Lycan charged at her, its eyes wild with bloodlust. Asadei reached for another arrow but found her quiver empty. Panic surged through her, but she didn’t back down. She grabbed a nearby spear and braced herself.
Just as the creature lunged at her, a flash of white streaked across her vision. It took her a second to realize what had happened.
The white wolf.
It had come again—this time, to fight beside her.
The white wolf lunged at the Lycan, tearing into it with a ferocity Asadei had only heard about in legends. The beast stood no chance as the wolf’s teeth sank deep into its flesh, ending its life in a matter of moments. Asadei could barely comprehend what was happening, her mind racing as the chaos of the battle continued around her.
She didn’t have time to dwell on the wolf’s sudden appearance. Her village was burning, and the screams of her people pierced the air. In the distance, she saw Tomatsu, sword in hand, leading a group of villagers in a desperate fight against the Lycans.
“Master!” Asadei shouted, running toward him.
Tomatsu’s face was streaked with sweat and blood, but when he saw her, he smiled grimly. “Asadei, get to safety. There’s nothing left here for us to protect.”
“No!” she yelled back, defiant. “This is our home. I’m not leaving!”
Tomatsu blocked a Lycan’s blow, sending it staggering back with a swift counterstrike. He turned to her, his eyes softening for a moment. “You’re brave, but this isn’t your fight anymore. You’ve done enough.”
Asadei shook her head, her heart pounding in her chest. “I won’t leave you. We can still—”
Before she could finish, a Lycan leapt at Tomatsu from the side. He barely had time to react, and though he managed to parry the first strike, the creature’s claws raked across his shoulder, sending him stumbling.
“Master!” Asadei screamed, rushing forward.
Tomatsu gritted his teeth, managing to stand despite the blood pouring from his wound. He shoved her back with surprising strength. “Go, Asadei! Run!”
But she couldn’t move. Frozen in horror, she watched as another Lycan descended on Tomatsu, its massive jaws clamping down on his arm. With a roar of defiance, he drove his sword deep into its chest, but as it fell, three more took its place. The odds were impossible.
“Live, Asadei,” Tomatsu gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. “Live to fight another day.”
His final words echoed in her ears as the Lycans overwhelmed him. The last thing she saw before her vision blurred with tears was Tomatsu’s body falling to the ground, his sword still clutched in his hand.
For a moment, everything stopped. The sounds of battle faded into the background, replaced by the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. Her legs moved on their own, stumbling backward before she turned and fled into the forest, tears streaming down her face.
She had failed him. She had failed them all.
Asadei ran until her legs gave out beneath her. She collapsed in the underbrush, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. The white wolf was nowhere to be seen, but its presence had left her with a lingering sense of safety—though now, it felt hollow. The weight of Tomatsu’s death settled on her like a heavy cloak, suffocating her spirit.
She had to get to her grandmother. That singular thought pushed her to her feet once again. She stumbled through the woods, making her way back toward the village, praying that the Lycans hadn’t reached her home yet.
But as she neared her house, her worst fears were realized. The front door had been smashed open, the wooden frame splintered as if torn apart by a monstrous force. Smoke billowed from the roof, and flames licked the edges of the windows.
“Granny!” Asadei screamed, her voice raw with desperation.
She rushed inside, coughing as the smoke filled her lungs. The heat was unbearable, but she pushed through, her eyes stinging from the tears and the ash. She found her grandmother lying in bed, just as she had left her that morning—peaceful, as if she were merely asleep.
But Asadei knew. She could feel it in her bones. Her grandmother was gone.
“No,” she whispered, her voice trembling. She fell to her knees beside the bed, her hands shaking as she touched her grandmother’s still form. “Please, no...”
The smoke thickened, and the flames crept closer, but Asadei couldn’t bring herself to leave. She clutched her grandmother’s hand, her heart breaking as she realized that she was truly alone now. Tomatsu was gone. Her grandmother was gone. Everything she had ever known was being consumed by fire and death.
“Asadei...” a soft voice seemed to whisper, but she knew it was just her imagination. Her grandmother had always been the one to calm her fears, to offer wisdom in times of despair. But now, those words would never be spoken again.
With trembling hands, Asadei closed her grandmother’s eyes, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to overwhelm her. “I love you, Granny,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling flames.
But there was nothing more she could do here. The fire was spreading, and if she didn’t leave, she would burn with the house.
Stumbling to her feet, Asadei took one last look at her grandmother before fleeing into the night. The sky was dark, the stars obscured by the smoke that rose from the village. Dotphia was gone, consumed by the Lycans and the fire they brought with them.
For days, Asadei wandered the woods, aimless and broken. The pain of losing Tomatsu and her grandmother gnawed at her soul, leaving her hollow and adrift. She survived on what little she could forage, barely noticing the hunger in her stomach or the cold that seeped into her bones.
Her thoughts were a storm of grief and guilt. She had run, just as Tomatsu had ordered, but it felt like cowardice. She had survived, but at what cost? She had nothing left.
But deep down, beneath the sorrow, a small ember of determination still flickered. She wasn’t done yet. She couldn’t be. Tomatsu had died so that she could live. Her grandmother had believed in her, even in her final moments.
And now, she had to find a way to carry on. She had to become stronger—for them.
Eventually, she reached the outskirts of a coastal village. It was small, but bustling with activity. The docks were filled with fishermen unloading their latest catch, and the air was thick with the smell of salt and fish.
She wandered through the streets, feeling out of place among the busy villagers. They had no idea who she was or what she had lost. She was just another stranger passing through.
As she walked along the docks, she spotted a man sitting on a crate, a portly figure with a mustache and a dirty cap. He was overseeing the loading of cargo onto a large ship.
“I need to get to Jeta,” she said, her voice hoarse from days of silence.
The man barely glanced at her before smirking. “And what’s in it for me?”
“I don’t have any money,” Asadei admitted, though it pained her to do so.
The man let out a bark of laughter. “No money? Then you’re out of luck, girl. This isn’t a charity.”
Asadei clenched her fists, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “Please, I have to get there. I’ll work—I can pay you back somehow.”
But the man only sneered. “You can pay me in other ways,” he said, his eyes raking over her with a lewd grin.
Disgusted, Asadei turned and walked away, her cheeks burning with shame. She had been foolish to think anyone would help her. In this world, she was on her own.
As she wandered further down the dock, an old man caught her attention. He was standing beside a small, worn boat, a fishing vessel by the looks of it. His face was lined with age, but his eyes were sharp and observant.
“I can take you to Jeta,” he said quietly as she approached.
Asadei blinked, surprised by his offer. “Why would you help me?”
The old man shrugged. “I need someone to help with the animals on board. I’m old, and I can’t do it alone anymore. You help me, and I’ll get you where you need to go.”
She hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. “Deal.”
