The village was quiet that afternoon, shrouded beneath a grey sky that whispered the coming of rain. From the northwest, a dozen armed men on horseback rode in, kicking up dust as they entered the dirt paths. No one knew who they were—only that they brought no goodwill.
Within moments, the townsfolk were ordered out of their homes. Children were separated from their parents. Men were forced to kneel, women lined up in silence. Shina, was pulled away from her sick mother, llia, who had been bedridden for nearly a year.
"No! Mooom!" Shina cried, thrashing against the grip of the man who held her. But she was just a child—powerless, desperate.
Two soldiers entered their home, attempting to drag Illia out of bed. She clung to the sheets, too weak to resist, while her daughter screamed from the doorway.
Then something shifted.
A ripple in the air.
An invisible pulse of energy surged out from Shina's chest, and her crimson eyes flared, turning violet—unnaturally bright, with a strange, otherworldly pattern spiraling in their irises. The men holding her were blasted backward by a shockwave. The air cracked. The house began to crumble.
And yet, amidst the collapse, a shimmering barrier of energy enveloped Shina and her mother, protecting them from the falling beams and shards of wood. Shina did not know how she had created it. Her body trembled. Her knees buckled.
From among the soldiers, a man stepped forward—tall, armored, with the air of command. His eyes widened at the sight of her glowing gaze.
"Lavender…" he whispered. "The Allies of the Devil…"
He smiled. The kind of smile one gives upon finding a rare gem buried in dirt.
Suddenly, from the fields near the barn, a figure came charging. Shina's uncle. With a pitchfork raised high, he rushed the commander, fueled by rage and desperation.
But the commander was no ordinary man.
With a swift motion, he drew his blade and slashed—deep. Blood sprayed across the trampled earth as Shina's uncle fell to the ground, groaning in agony.
Shina could do nothing. Her body was drained from the outburst of power. Her violet eyes faded, her vision blurred.
The commander knelt before her, calm as he spoke.
"If you come with us," he said gently, "no one else has to be hurt again."
Shina's lips trembled. Her eyes fell to her unconscious mother. Then to the blood pooling near her uncle.
"…Promise me," she said, voice hollow.
He nodded, as if sealing a contract. A pact made in war-torn soil between a battle-hardened man—and a trembling ten-year-old girl.
{Chapter 44 end}