Crickets hummed in the distance. Wind rustled the upper branches. Somewhere far off, a lone crow cawed, sharp against the stillness.
But here, in this scorched patch of the forest, the world felt… abandoned.
Blackened earth cracked beneath leather boots. A tree stood half-collapsed, its trunk split down the middle.
The stranger stepped over a fallen limb.
They moved without urgency. Not lost, not wandering—simply… searching.
A hand reached down, fingers brushing against blood-stained soil.
Still warm.
They paused.
Something was here.
Something had been here.
The scent lingered.
The stranger straightened. Their eyes scanned the carnage. Ruined roots. Scorch marks that spread like veins through the ground.
Then—something glinted.
A few feet ahead, lying half-buried beneath a layer of charred leaves.
The stranger knelt.
Pushed aside the debris with care, almost reverence.
And there it was.
A sword.
Or rather, what remained of one.
The blades handle had been cleaved in half, but the blade pulsed faintly with a residue of something deep, wild, and wrong.
Magic. Emotion. Or rather Memory.
They picked it up—gently.
Held it to the light.
A whisper passed from their lips. "Such power.." Soft to catch. Quiet for the wind to carry. "Is this one of the legendary swords?"
But their hand tightened around the hilt.
The wind blew again.
And the stranger vanished between the trees.
Carrying with them the last broken piece of what had happened here.
And the first omen of what was yet to come.
END Arc I