The bonfire frizzled, swaying in the breeze. Golden flames illuminated the surroundings as it licked the piece of meat hanging over it.

Aeryth's meat-skewered stick hung over it. A stabbing pain in her shoulder after doing the same thing for an hour. It was the most laborious way of cooking, but tonight was a special occasion, and, as the village chief's daughter, she must not be the one to show dissatisfaction.

Around her, there were hundreds of small bonfires on the sacred ground. It was a festival of harmony, where the entire village came to the sacred orchids, cooked, and ate together. The children like her sat with their mother, cooking their family's hunt.

While the men formed a group, drinking and swearing like savages. Their fights were a fun-to-watch event for everyone. The fights might've already started, but she couldn't go, under her parents' watch.

"Light?" Her father said.

"Hm?" She looked at her father. The burnt smell tickled her nose. The meat was now a lump of charcoal at the end of her stick. She had been far too lost in her thoughts.

She pulled the stick back, clamped her palm on hot charcoal, and dropped it in her basket. She blew her hand, shaking violently. It throbbed and burned.

"Worried about tomorrow?" He said, chuckling. Not at all angry at her.

"Why would I be worried?" Aeryth tilted her head. She was going to be blessed with a super cool magic tomorrow. "I was just wondering what kind of power will I get. Something super cool... seeing the future will be nice. Then, I can always tell when the prey is going to attack us. But something like fire will do as well. I can always burn the nest before they even realize."

Aeryth imagined vividly, her smile shined brighter than the bonfire beside her.

It happened to every child in the village on their fourteenth birthday. They asked Goddess Ella to bless them with incredible arcane powers to keep their home safe and their family fed.

Tomorrow was the day that would decide if she would become a housewife doing chores for the rest of her life or something more than that—the chief she was born and raised to be. The strongest hunter in the village. A mage she had always dreamed of becoming.

"Ella always punishes arrogance," He smiled. Aeryth dipped her head.

"Saying the truth is no arrogance," her voice dripped with arrogant pride.

Her father shook her head, chuckling at her silliness.

She prayed in her heart that the goddess would bless her with great power so she could make her family proud. The goddess heard everyone's voice, or so everyone said, but how would someone hear everyone's voice, at the same time, no less? It made no sense. Though, she was forbidden to ask that question to the priest—the prick with an orc's horn up his butt.

Aeryth sniffed. "Care, did you burn your piece?" She looked at her little brother, who was still too young to help, but he was too prideful to sit idly.

Care looked away, face red. Aeryth chuckled. She stabbed another piece of raw meat and held it to the fire.

"This is the last one, right?"

"It is," her mother answered. She had lost her hand during one of the hunts, and since then, she hadn't been able to help with housework. Not that she needed to. Aeryth was more than capable of doing her mother's part of the work. She thought pridefully, ignoring all the meat-turned-charcoal in the basket.

There was a plate of raw pieces at her mother's side. "What about those?"

"For the children."

Children were orphans whose both father and mother were dead, and no relative alive or willing to take care of them.

"Huh, then I'll sit with them for a while," The children had a bonfire of their own.

"You're going to burn them," Care accused, pointing his finger at the basket. Aeryth flicked her eyes down and smiled.

"Aww... you want me to stay with you?"

Care turned away, making a humph sound.

"Go ahead. Make sure they don't start fighting over it." Her mother said.

Aeryth grinned and picked up the plate, circled and twirled through other clusters of families sitting around a bonfire of their own.

"Aeryth!"

Aeryth looked behind her. Gene was also looping around toward her, with a plate in her hand. "Gene!" Aeryth smiled, waving her free hand.

Gene had her awakening ceremony about a week ago, and she had been blessed, much to Aeryth's delight, with healing power.

They both continued toward the children toward the center of the ground.

"Nervous?" Gene asked.

"Yeah, kind of," Aeryth replied smugly, "What if I get something so great that our neighbors send assassins to deal with me."

Geen shook her head. "I cannot imagine a person more deserving of a blessing than you, but even I feel you're becoming more and more arrogant."

"Maybe." Aeryth shrugged. "For some reason, everyone associates truth with arrogance. If I was arrogant, I would've said, I will get an affinity that no one has ever gotten before. Along with legendary artifacts, unlike anything the world has ever seen. But, I didn't."

Gene smiled, "Sure..." reached over and patted her back. "Everything will be fine, you are worrying for nothing."

"Who said, I am worried in the slightest." Aeryth puffed her chest. The plate in her hand wobbled. She stumbled, barely managing to save a particularly angry mother from the spice and oiled meats. She smiled at her and continued walking. She sighed when that woman didn't follow her. "I am alive."

"Yeah, you're not fretting in the slightest," Gene intoned.

Everyone believed she would be blessed. But what if she was not? Would her father still be kind to her? Would she still be friends with Gene? What about the rest of the village? It made her heart heavier, drown in the anxious abyss.

Gene must've understood her anxiety, as she switched the topic to a tale about the death knight's skull her brother found during one of the hunts.

Finally, they arrive at the biggest bonfire in the sacred orchids. Twenty-five children, all of them were younger than fourteen. Behind them, the revered sage tree cast its shadow on them. It was the biggest thing in the village, its branches reached over the village fences. Glossy white just like marble. Some said it had as many leaves as the spell the sage knew.

"Aery!" One of the children shouted. Followed by a chorus of them.

"Berry!" Aeryth smiled as they all broke into laughter.

She placed the basket beside the bonfire, "Listen, you idiots. Everyone gets one piece at a time. If there are any leftovers, we will distribute them equally among ourselves, understood?"

All of them nodded.

Aeryth smiled proudly, "Good," nodding, she sat on the empty log bench in front of the sage tree.

"Aery... I heard you'll get magic power tonight," a young boy asked.

"Of course, we'll have my ceremony in the morning. Followed by my coronation as village chief," Aeryth beamed at them, "You might catch it if you wake up early."

"You'll really, really become the chief?" another one asked, her voice filled with awe.

Aeryth shook her head. "Just kidding. I'll become chief once my father retires, so not any time soon," Aeryth paused, a devious plan blossoming in her mind. "If you all pray to Ella that she should give me a magic so powerful that my father, begrudgingly, has to relinquish his chair first thing in the morning, I'll buy you all chocolate next time the ferryman passes by."

Ella heard the children's voices even more clearly, the priest said.

Ah! I should've done that yesterday... Am I too late? Aeryth wondered in her mind. Gene watched them in amusement.

Children's eyes shone at the mention of chocolate. They closed their eyes. "Ella, give Aertyh super cool magic so she can become village head quickly!" They all prayed in unison. Their voice echoed through the ground.

Everyone around them laughed. Gene, as well. Her laugh was the loudest. Aeryth shot her a betrayed look. Her face grew hot and red from embarrassment.

"You idiots! We pray from our hearts, don't shout."

Gene chuckled, "I'll be going then. A lot of work to do for the morning. See you at the ceremony."

Aeryth nodded, "I'll also leave once I'm done."

Gene paused and leaned closer to Aeryth. "You are going to eat with them?"

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Aeryth sighed, "Yeah, my father said, they feel lonely," She whispered so that these little ones didn't hear her.

She sat for about half an hour. A few more families also brought food for the children and left it in Aeryth's care. She cooked the meat, not burning it this time, and made sure no one fought over it.

Once, they started burping with bloated stomachs, falling off their logs, Aeryth bid them night and returned to her family's bonfire.

Her mother stared at her, "Bribing little children, are we?"

"Whatever gets me the throne," Aeryth shot a smug grin at her father.

"There's an assassin hiding in the caves, you can always use your savings."

Aeryth laughed. It was a dig at noble people of big kingdoms who always killed their parents for the money.

Her mother shook her head. "Sit, the midnight approaches."

The flames dwindled. The bonfire only lasted till midnight or died a few minutes before that. The night of the festival was meant to bask in the cleansing light of the sapphire moon.

Aeryth seated on her spot. Again, the murky panic crawled back into her heart. "So it does."

"You need not be worried. Even if you are not blessed, it's not the end of the world." Her mother placed her hand on her shoulder and squeezed assuringly. "Blessing is not everything. Only another opportunity. You'll make us proud, regardless of if Ella deems you worthy of her blessing."

Aeryth bobbed her head.

'But, I want to be a mage, a hunter, to fight for the Village. Make their life better as the next chief. I want to be more than just another girl, born to do house chores for the rest of her life.'

She knew that was the wrong way of thinking. Her parents had taught her better, but still, this was the truth. The women without blessing had nothing in their life, for all the hard work they did, they were treated as lesser in the family.

"I am not worried. My blessing will be right at midnight, just you see," Aeryth's voice oozed with confidence.

The closer one was blessed to the midnight, the stronger their magical powers were, or so the village elders said.

Once the flames died, the wisp of pale smoke coiled in the air with the sharp aftertaste of burnt wood and leaves.

Aeryth looked up at the sky. The soft white moon reflected in her eyes, taking a shade of teal. A gradual process, about a minute or so long, and at the end, the world would be enshrouded by the sapphire glow.

It was midnight. Her birthday. She was fifteen years old.

"Lig-" Her mother stopped. Her eyes visibly widened, as her hand snapped towards the entrance of the village.

Aeryth felt the gavel of darkness strike the back of her head. She quivered, cold dread coiled in her being.

It was not just her, but everyone present in the sacred ground looked in the same direction, at the village entrance.

Her heart shook. A frigid, serrated claw gently gliding over the smooth, sensitive skin of her heart. She shivered.

As if the world had come to a chilling pause, they all gaze into the darkness, in a world without fire, all-devouring tides of black sea crashing toward them.

"RUN!!" Someone screamed at the top of their lungs. Sharp and shrill. It couldn't have been children who should be frozen just like Aeryth. It had to be an adult. Aeryth had never heard an adult scream run in her entire life. They were hunters, it was a mortifying shame to even think of such a word, let alone scream it.

And yet, at this instance, that word resonated deeply within everyone's heart.

In the unpromised silence and breaths stuck to their lungs rang another chime. Footsteps, not one, but an ocean, so many that the log she sat on shook with each of their unified steps. The aligned chorus sent another realization down her spine.

Their steps are unified as if an army, nothing like rampaging monsters.

She remained frozen, her heart, thumping with the hymn of the hoof, grew painfully louder and erratic. Her blood ran thick in her veins. She tried to move, but her body refused—adhering to the primal fear only.

A hand wrapped around her waist. She was in the arms of her father. His voice attempted to assure her, but it was muted and lost in the echoes of the marching horses.

Her father sprinted with her in his hand. She looked for her mother. Moving even her head felt like she was deep in a muddy lake. Her eyes landed on her mother, carrying her little brother. She looked panicked for the first time in Aeryth's small life.

Why were they running?

She looked toward the direction where the sound came from. Her entire village was shaking, quivering under the onslaught of the thing in the darkness. The glowing green flames floating in them.

What were those things?

Her father was among the first few to run. Most hadn't even shaken off the initial horror and shock.

It was a shame. He was the village chief, and they should've been last after others left. It was their responsibility.

Why were they running? No one seemed to care, everyone was too busy to run away with their own family.

The Sacred Orchid was in the center of the village. They ran the opposite side. The town on the other side of the sacred ground crumbled right before her eyes.

The entire village, all scrambled for their lives. Yet, no one dared to stop and fight those. Why? Were they not hunters? Were they not born to fight monsters?

Her panic slowly grew milder. As despair took hold of her.

Soon, the creature of darkness reached the slowest of them, the children, whom no one bothered to stop for.

"Stop father, we must protect them!" She clawed on his back to free herself. Yet, his hold only grew tighter, and his pace increased.

"Close your eyes, Aeryth, and ears," he sounded different, nothing like her father—a cruel man, devoid of emotions.

Steel blades gleamed in the darkness, under the light of the moon, cleaved through the children like they were livestock. The screamed. Cried.

We just had dinner together. Now, they are dying.

Those lifeless eyes looked at her as if asking why didn't she protect them.

Those mighty horses continued, crushing the lifeless bodies like insects on the ground.

"Let me go!" She screamed. Clawled and writhed harder, but it was naught against her father's might.

The town slowly crumbled, wrapped in black flames. It was over. A voice in her mind said. This village was dead. She didn't want to believe it. But it was. Tears slid down her face. She gave up, her arms lifelessly hung as she gazed at the destruction of everything she had ever known.

The riders grew closer, slaughtering everyone closest to them.

The sage tree set ablaze illuminated the night sky with its golden flames that rose higher and higher; brighter than any fire Aeryth had ever seen. The sage tree lit up the entire village, the last beacon for their escape. It served its purpose, but they, her father had not. It illuminated the riders' form.

They rode horses, twice the size of a normal horse, covered in black flame. Their being clad in black armor. Black smoke rose from their bodies, and two green orbs flickered in the eye slit of their helmets. A cape of darkness stretched behind them, sweeping and wrapping everything in the darkness.

Knights. She had heard of them. They were the great fighters of larger cities and kingdoms, an oath sworn warriors to fight for their homeland.

A few had passed their homes in the past, yet no one ever wore black. And the dark smoke coming off their body belongs to undead creatures. Not living. Certainly not humans.

The flames also illuminated the figure of all who scrambled for an escape and of those who fell. As if it wanted to burn the sight in her memories.

Gene fell, shoved by someone much bigger than her. One of the children, running away, tumbled over Gene.

Gene got up and tried to get the young boy up.

Aeryth's eyes quivered. The massive knight drew his sword. The sound of metal scrapping as it left the sheat echoed. Gene tried to create a ward. The man was too quick. In a blink, the sword cleaved through her shoulder and as it did the child's.

The mass of darkness did not stop. It continued, crushing her remains, smearing her into the mud.

Tears slid off her eyes. She clenched her jaws. She had been taught how easily one lost one life on the battlefield, and how she must accept it. And yet, she felt anger. So boiling and razing in her being, scorching her veins. Her body quivered. Her nails dug into her father's back through his coat. She drew blood.

Her father must've felt it. Her anger. He patted her back. Yet, he didn't utter a word or stop.

So did her mother. Her brother's eyes snapped shut. He had witnessed, or refused to witness, the same sight she had. He was crying.

Aeryth should've tried to assure him, yet her mind couldn't come up with any words.

Gene, her best friend, so warm and gentle, was gone. Crushed. No remains would ever be found to bury.

But that was the start. The massacre, the death that crept closer to them, killing everything in sight.

Every death. Cry. Wail for help. And curse hurled. All of it etched into her memories. Seared into her brain. She couldn't look away, and neither would she be able to forget it.

They swung their gigantic swords to cut the buildings in half.

"W...why?" Was this happening?

They reached the edge of the village, barred by the fences. Her father swung his blade, cleaving the lumber wall in half, and jumped over the shortened fence. The scrambling village had dwindled to a little group of people who were the strongest in the village. They all ran with their family.

Few jumped over the walls. Some broke through them. But no one stopped to fight. It was a storm of death. They were a twig, if caught, they would snap to their death.

Then, they were in the darkness of the forest, the only source of light was the moon; it shone with brilliance, gloating at their misery.

Now, only her father and mother were running. They had broken to the side path away from the villagers. Very much to use them as a distraction.

She heard death's march, it was farther to the left. Toward the remaining villagers.

They had survived. Their family would live. At this point, that was all she could hope for.

The crashing of trees echoed in the distance. The single knight breezed through the forest. He was far faster than they were.

"Aery, go left." Her mother said.

Her father nodded slightly. And then, they split.

"No! Stop! It's only one. We can fight it!" Aeryth screamed, begged.

"We cannot fight them. They are immortal," Her father said through his clenched teeth. "We can only hope to survive."

Hope? What good will that do? Ella has already abandoned us.

Fortunately, the knight had followed them, instead of her mother and little brother. She didn't know how much of a good thing it was, but her brother could live. He was so small, he didn't deserve to die. Neither did her mother.

She could feel her father's exhausted chest heaving for air. He was at his last step, spent from outrunning a horse. There was so much a man could do against an immortal being.

"Leave me, father. I'm a burden."

"This is it," He muttered. "Aeryth, I'll lower you. Run. Don't stop. Don't look back. Just run. I'll hold him for you to escape."

"No..." Aeryth's throat hurt. She held onto his shirt. Her protest fell deaf to his ears.

"Please, Aeryth, don't look back. Run for me," His voice was different than she had ever heard. It was barely audible, yet it made her heart shudder, rent into dust.

He stopped. Tore her away. Her feet dug into the soil. She turned and began running, tears streaming down her face. Her ears rang with the echo of the knight's horse as it let out a snarl.

The shrill cry of her father's sword clashing against the monster echoed in her ears. It gave her the energy to run. Her father was going to die. And she couldn't do anything. Running away meant he had not died in vain.

The sound of clashes stopped. Her father must've won. He would come and pick her up, any moment. She didn't need to look back.

Then, she heard the horse's scrapping claw in the mud.

He must've run away, knowing I could escape. He's fine. He has to be.

The wailing echoes grew closer. She tried to run faster, but she was just a girl. Her lungs burned before long. The horse trotted languidly.

She stumbled over a tree root, jutting out of the ground. Tried to balance herself, but the growing despair impaired her.

Regardless of how much she tried to rationalize, she knew what had happened, and how futile it was to run. Her father just wanted to make sure he died before her. He didn't want to bear the pain of her death. As cruel and selfish as it was. She, too, now wanted to be relieved of this pain.

She stopped. If she was going to die, she would not crawl like an insect before death. She turned, leaning against the tree.

It stopped, gazing down at her. Its imposing stature only made her feel like a five-year-old, little girl.

The blade glinted. Before Aeryth could even react, a red silvery arc ached diagonally from her shoulder. It flicked its sword, letting it shine.

She felt a rush of warmth and pain as her body fell.

The undead monster trotted away. Aeryth groaned. The monster rushed in her mother's direction. She tried to move. Except for burning pain, she felt nothing. But alive, she was. Oh so despairingly alive. Like thousands of nails digging into her cleaved body.

[Affinity Acquired: Life essence]