Miria closed her eyes and sank into sleep…
She suddenly found herself in the middle of a bustling town. Carriages rolled over the cobblestones, merchants shouted their prices, children ran between the stalls. The air smelled of fresh bread and coal. It was an era when television did not yet exist, when gas lamps lit the streets at night. The town pulsed with life.
In the distance, a little girl of about ten or eleven was running and laughing, stuck close to a boy with short blue hair and gray eyes. The little girl had long green hair and yellow eyes. She looked exactly like Miria when she was small.
Miria's thought: *This scene… it reminds me of something.*
Then understanding struck her.
Miria's thought: *Yes… this is the town of Ashenford. These are my memories… when I was Miria of Ashenford.*
The scene changed. She was now inside a beautiful bourgeois house. Little Miria of Ashenford stood there with her head bowed in front of an elegant man with short gray hair and yellow eyes, and a woman with long green hair and brown eyes.
"Miria, how many times am I going to forbid you from playing with that Kil?" the father said in a severe voice. "He has bad company. In the future, he will only bring you misfortune."
"Yes, my daughter," the mother added. "Papa is right. We want what's best for you. Besides, you are the bearer of the grimoire. You must not speak of it to anyone. You must train to prepare for the battle. Do you understand?"
Little Miria of Ashenford, in a small, sad voice, answered without raising her head:
"Yes… Papa. Yes… Mama."
The parents smiled, satisfied.
As soon as she was in her room, little Miria of Ashenford closed the door, took her bag, opened the window, and slipped away quietly. Miria followed her to the docks.
There, the boy with blue hair waved to her.
"Kil… Kil, I'm here!" little Miria of Ashenford cried joyfully.
"Miria!" Kil answered with the same enthusiasm.
Other children their age were there. Among them, a boy with short black hair, black eyes, and glasses. His face seemed strangely familiar to Miria.
"Leo, you're here too?" little Miria of Ashenford asked.
"Yes," Leo answered calmly. "I came because I didn't want anything to happen to you."
Miria's thought: *Leo… and that face… it reminds me of someone. But who?*
Kil immediately got angry.
"Leo, if you didn't want to come, you shouldn't have. And watch your words."
"I didn't know it took so little to affect you," Leo replied. "You're so sensitive."
"What?!?!"
"And on top of that, he's deaf," Leo added in a perfectly serious tone.
Everyone burst out laughing. Kil was about to come to blows, but little Miria of Ashenford stepped between them.
"Friends… we're here to have fun, not to fight."
Kil glared at him, then grumbled:
"Fine. Come on."
He led them further along the docks, where old beams and crates floated above the icy water. The game was simple… and extremely risky: jump from beam to beam without falling into the cold water.
"This is nonsense," Leo protested. "It's dangerous."
"You're just a coward," Kil sneered.
When Leo wanted to retort, little Miria of Ashenford volunteered.
"I'll do it."
"Miria, no!" Leo tried to dissuade her.
"If you're weak, don't involve her," Kil shot back.
Leo opened his mouth, but little Miria of Ashenford reassured him:
"Everything will be fine."
Miria, who was watching, displayed a bitter smile.
Miria's thought: *That's what you think…*