Seventeen Years Before the Fire incident.
Nestled in the heart of District 1 stood one of the oldest buildings in Mediva, tall, weathered, and noble in its age. It was the Church Children's Home, a sanctuary for orphans left behind by a world too busy waging wars and building kingdoms to remember the smallest lives. Built in the aftermath of the Hundred-Year War, the orphanage had stood as a symbol of recovery and hope… though for its youngest residents, it was simply the only home they had ever known.
Outside, the sun poured golden light onto the field where laughter danced on the wind. Children ran barefoot through the grass, their joy unhindered by the chains of the past. A few played tag beneath the bell tower, others chased butterflies near the garden, while two tiny figures knelt beside a trail of ants weaving through the dust like soldiers on parade.
A little girl was breaking pieces from her breakfast bread and crumbling them beside the marching ants. Her thick blue hair fell like a curtain around her shoulders, soft and radiant. Her skin, pale and smooth, glowed under the sun, and her eyes, large, sharp, and filled with wonder and sparkled as she watched the tiny creatures carry off the crumbs.
"Violet!"
The voice was light and teasing, belonging to a boy who couldn't have been more than four. He stood behind her, arms folded across his small chest, a glimmer of mischief in his bright brown eyes. His short black hair refused to grow past a fuzz, and though his skin was the same fair shade as the girl's, it lacked the softness of hers, rugged and a little dry from playing too hard in the sun.
"You're going to get scolded again if Mother Agatha catches you feeding the ants," he warned, a smirk playing on his lips.
Violet gasped, her eyes going wide. She turned to him and cupped her hands together in a pleading gesture, her lower lip trembling.
"Please don't tell her, Alfred!" she cried, her voice edged with panic. "I'll be in trouble again!"
Alfred Vasco blinked at her. For a moment, he didn't say anything. Then, with a grin, he knelt beside her and began watching the ants as if nothing had happened.
"I won't tell," he said, shrugging. "Besides… I don't even like Mother Agatha."
Violet sniffled, then giggled as her tears dried quickly. That made her smile, and Alfred couldn't help but return it. There was something about her innocence that softened even the most hardened moods. Maybe that was why he liked being around her so much.
"Why do you always feed the ants, anyway?" he asked, eyes still on the little trail of creatures.
Violet tilted her head, thoughtful. "I don't know. I just think they're… cute. Tiny and busy all the time. Like little people with tiny jobs."
Alfred chuckled softly. "You're weird."
She grinned, proud of it.
They sat there in silence, two children from nothing, watching ants carry crumbs of bread like it was treasure.
—————
Three Years Later
Time passed. The war-torn world didn't wait for children to remain innocent.
By the time they reached the ages of six and seven, Violet and Alfred were among the handful of orphans selected for the soldiers training, a prestigious and grueling program that raised cathedral guards and hunters from the cradle.
To everyone's surprise, it wasn't Alfred but Violet who rose as a prodigy. Her soft looks and quiet demeanor hid a sharpened mind and a fire forged in hardship. She outperformed nearly every recruit, and when they graduated as junior Hunters three years later, Violet of District 1 stood as the top candidate among five districts. The others who shared the spotlight were names soon known across Mediva: Elvric of District 2, Omar of District 4, Luka of District 3, and Izen of District 5. Together, they were the future warriors of Mediva.
Alfred, though competent and dedicated, never reached the top. He was assigned under Commander Jonathan of District 5—a man known for training warriors with fists of iron and discipline harder than steel. Violet, fittingly, was placed under the guidance of Commander Boyce, the pride of District 1.
The mission was clear: hunt the remnants of demons in the Forest of Shadows… and return with proof that the peace Mediva cherished was still real.
—————
Seven Years After Graduation
"Commander Jonathan's troop?" Alfred blinked. "You're really switching teams?"
Violet stood before him, hands on her hips. Her blue hair was now waist-length, flowing and proud. Her frame had matured, still slender but stronger, more defined. Womanhood had graced her form, but her wide, sharp eyes still held that innocent gleam of childhood.
She frowned. "Tch… are you even listening to me?"
Alfred was kneeling, his back to her, facing a small mound of dirt. He turned with a smirk, a piece of bread in hand.
"The ants here still eat a lot," he muttered, ignoring her frustration.
Violet sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless."
But then, her eyes lit up.
"Hey! Tomorrow's my birthday and our first mission in the Forest of Shadows. Isn't that exciting?!"
Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Don't get too excited. People don't always come back from their first mission."
"Hmph. You're always so negative," she pouted, sticking her tongue out. "Anyway, don't forget my birthday present this time."
Alfred winced. Last year, he'd missed it because of a prolonged mission with his commander and she nearly killed him for it.
"I won't," he promised, with mock fear in his voice. "I won't even try to forget."
The Next Day
Thousands gathered in the grand plaza of District 1. Hunters, cathedral guards, Daemirans, and Messengers all stood in uniform formation. Rows upon rows of new recruits stood at attention beneath the glaring sun.
Among them stood Alfred, nervous energy crawling under his skin. This would be his first mission in the Forest of Shadows. He glanced to his right and noticed someone staring at him, an odd, hairless young man with juice dripping from his chin. He was munching on a ripe mango, completely unfazed by the formal atmosphere.
Alfred stared. Seriously?
Recognition dawned, Benjamin, a monk from District 4. They'd fought during training once. Still weird.
Their eyes locked. Alfred narrowed his brows. Benjamin just… chewed. Slowly.
Then, the platform creaked.
A figure ascended the stage. Towering, broad, dark-skinned, and battle-scarred—General Ivor Balman. His presence silenced the plaza. Every step of his boots echoed like thunder across the platform. Behind him followed five commanders:
Commander Boyce of District 1
Commander Absalom of District 2
Commander Li of District 3
Commander Edric of District 4
Commander Jonathan of District 5
Alfred stood straight, trying not to sweat through his uniform. He glanced at Violet, who stood a few rows away. She looked calm, almost too calm.
Then the General spoke.
"Soldiers of Mediva!" His voice was like a hammer striking the hearts of every young recruit. "Today marks the beginning of your duty in the Forest of Shadows. Let this truth settle into your bones—if you don't have what it takes, you won't be coming back."
The plaza was dead silent. Some gulped. Others looked at their boots. Panic was contagious, creeping into the eyes of even the most composed.
"But today," the General continued, "you will become more than recruits. You will become men. Women. Soldiers of faith. Guardians of Mediva."
He raised his fist high. "For Mediva!"
"FOR MEDIVA!" the army roared in response.
And with that, the formation dissolved into movement. Troops reorganized, warriors gathered, and the first step toward war began.
Alfred clenched his fists. Violet turned and gave him a wink.
Their childhood days of watching ants were over.
Now, they would march into the shadows.
Together.