Mary woke up hours later, feeling ten years younger. Except for some small wounds and bandages around her body, she felt as if she could lift a golem and topple it over.

Before wondering about her newfound health, she looks around and finds herself back in her house, filled with various people.

Some with horns, hooves, long ears, long legs, and even dead skin.

Various species with a heart that beats as one.

All of them united in praying for her recovery.

Many pestered her, wanting to reveal her hidden agenda or to learn how she keeps fighting against the unseen evils of the world.

The age-old question everyone sought an answer for, but none of them understood this right here is her strength, hope, and ultimate wish.

A place where life is cherished and nurtured, irrespective of one’s race, clan, color, or appearance.

She captured another mental image of the miraculous moment, closing her eyes with a sense of solace as she dreamt of the day when her deepest wishes would come true.

The following day, she reprimanded the citizens of Saint Cathel, who had once again propagated the rumor about her invisible shield.

They merely shrugged and pointed out the glaringly obvious: how could someone return from the mysterious Fea Forest with only minor wounds?

The guards Mary mentioned tracking into the forest had mysteriously disappeared, further fueling the townsfolk’s belief. They regarded Mary as too modest to emphasize that they had dismissed each of her assertions without consideration.

Pondering deeper into the claims, she confronted the people who brought her to safety.

Mary admonished them for their carelessness, imposing a week’s worth of chores as their penance, and later on, she knelt before them, tears streaming down her face, expressing her heartfelt gratitude.

After they shared a moment of lamentation, she once again delivered a scathing reprimand, chastising them for their perceived foolishness.

Mary hated those rumors which kept adding to the fairy tale.

They first begged her for forgiveness and then argued they found her without a scratch. All those wounds on her body were because they couldn’t carry her with their weak arms.

This revelation briefly shocked Mary into believing the stories.

Is there someone hidden within the shadows protecting her without her knowledge?

She never understood magic, and a simple illusion spell was enough to kidnap or kill her.

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Mary shuddered, revisiting the memories of the previous day, but she gathered her strength and pressed on. The more she contemplated it, the idea of sprinting through a mountain of fire seemed implausible for an elderly woman—unless a deity or a child sent from Heaven was involved. Determined to dispel these ludicrous rumors, Mary made a solemn vow to reveal the truth and reveal to the world the authentic essence of a Heaven-sent being.

“Where is the patient?”

The citizens exchanged bewildered glances and responded in unison, “You?”

“No! The kid.”

“What kid?”

Mary’s heart sank, and without uttering a single word, she swiftly dashed back into the forest.

The citizens yelled and hastily chased after her. As the mysterious Fea mist continued to spread each year, the kingdoms faced a relentless contraction. While the royals and the wealthy found refuge behind enchanted walls, the destitute and unlucky ones were caught in the suffocating space between the protective barrier and the encroaching mist.

The unfortunate citizens of Saint Cathel resigned themselves to the inevitability of death. Faced with another year of unrelenting misery, they knew the encroaching mist would soon lay claim to their lands. In an act of somber acceptance, many of them walked into the mist, choosing to embrace their own fate.

For how much longer would they place their trust in Mary’s shield to safeguard them all?

In a desperate act, they entrusted their children to Mary’s care and willingly embraced the prospect of death, holding onto the faint hope that she might discover a way to dispel the encroaching Fea mist.

Mary pleaded with them to stay, emphasizing that no one could replace the role of a parent, not even a god. Despite her assurances, their fear persisted, suspecting that her shield might not shield everyone, so they decided on her behalf.

Torn between their love for their children and the uncertain protection of Mary’s abilities they made a hard choice.

The equation wasn’t complex; it was a straightforward choice, tinged with the complexity of love and fear.

Every day, Mary implored alchemists, healers, and warriors alike, beseeching them to find a way to rescue her children from the relentless advance of the Fea. Yet, the magic of the Fea proved to be beyond the capabilities of even the most skilled among them.

Were it not for the dragon treasures safeguarded within the mighty walls, every kingdom would have met its demise.

History has shown that victory often stemmed not from sheer power but from cunning, and we solely relied on the latter. Now, while they recover, we cower behind the walls.

Despite Mary’s urgent pleas, commanding everyone to halt their frenzied pursuit, they continued to follow her blindly, unaware of her intentions.

Their chants reverberated through the forest, filling the air with praises and spells devoid of any real power.

“Power to the invincible shield. Power to Mary.”

“Reclaim our lands.”

“Wait! Our lands are on the opposite side.” The chants soon turned into arguments and doubts.

Without a clear understanding of why or where they were headed, the crowd witnessed Mary’s departure and intuitively followed, devoid of questions or doubts. Their unwavering belief in Mary’s shield serving as their ultimate protector overshadowed any uncertainty. Even in the face of the unknown, they were willing to embrace the potential consequences and resolved to choose death over a life without her.

Mary found herself torn between venturing deeper into the Fea forest or retracing her steps to save her children. The dilemma intensified with the absence of the usual mist that cloaked the forest.

The rumors of her seemingly invincible shield cutting through the Fea mist echoed in Mary’s mind, realizing that the belief in its infallibility could overshadow reason.

The weight of the situation pressed upon her, and she realized it was already too late to alter anyone’s mind or the stories they were going to weave.

Blinded by hope, none of them were likely to think logically.

Mary considered that sneaking out at midnight might have been a wiser choice. The kid is a boon, a healer, sent from the heavens. Surely he can survive a day or two in the mysterious Fea Mist after being burnt alive.

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