1. Burning feathers

Springrise, 5th day
Evening
The village of Fernbrook lay nestled in a serene embrace of forest and lake, a peaceful haven hidden away from the world's cruelties. By day, its cobblestone streets bustled with the simple joys of Ailanders, who lived off the land's bounty and the river's silver threads of fish. The Raven Sisters, with their wisdom and blessings, watched over the village, ensuring prosperity and peace. But Nindia, like the rest of the villagers, had never truly understood how fragile that peace was until the night it shattered.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the fields as the first stars began to twinkle in the sky. Nindia stood by the water's edge, her reflection shimmering in the rippling surface of Lake Varda. She had come to the lake to clear her mind, the gentle lapping of water always soothing her worries. Her mother had been particularly ill today, and despite the Raven Sisters' blessings, Nindia couldn't shake the feeling of impending dread.

Her reverie was broken by the sound of hurried footsteps. She turned to see Sister Thalia, one of the Raven Sisters, sprinting towards her, her usually composed face twisted in fear.

"Nindia, you must come! Quickly!" Thalia's voice was breathless, panic edging her words.

"What is it?" Nindia asked, her heart pounding as she hurried to meet the older woman.

"The Rust Brothers... they're here. They've attacked the village," Thalia said, grabbing Nindia's arm and pulling her towards the trees. "We need to get to the others, we need to hide!"

Fear seized Nindia's heart, a cold, vice-like grip that made it hard to breathe. She followed Thalia without question, her mind racing. The Rust Brothers – the very name conjured images of brutality and mercilessness. She had heard tales of their cruelty, but Fernbrook had always seemed so far removed from such horrors.

As they ran through the forest, the sounds of chaos reached them – screams, the clash of metal, the crackling of fire. Fernbrook was burning.



When they broke through the tree line, the sight that met Nindia's eyes stole her breath away. The village was a hellscape of flames and shadows. Houses were ablaze, the once clear river now ran red with blood, and amidst it all were the Rust Brothers – men and women clad in dark armor, their faces hidden behind grotesque masks of rusted iron. They moved with a ruthless efficiency, cutting down anyone who stood in their path.

"Nindia!" a voice called out, and she turned to see her father, bloodied but alive, fighting off a Rust Brother with a pitchfork. "Run! Get your mother and run!"

Nindia's feet felt rooted to the ground, her mind unable to process the nightmare unfolding before her. But Thalia's grip on her arm tightened, pulling her towards one of the Raven Sisters' cottage. "We must reach the others," Thalia urged. "The Sisters can protect us."

As they neared the cottage, a figure emerged from the shadows, tall and menacing. Brother Ezekiel, a leader among the Rust Brothers, his armor gleaming with fresh blood, blocked their path.

"Going somewhere, Sister?" Ezekiel's voice was a low, mocking drawl.

Thalia stepped in front of Nindia, her eyes blazing with defiance. "You will not harm her!"

Ezekiel laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Oh, but I think I will." With a swift motion, he struck Thalia down, her body crumpling to the ground like a broken doll.

Nindia screamed, her voice lost amidst the chaos. She stumbled back, tripping over a stone and falling to the ground. Ezekiel loomed over her, raising his sword.

At that moment, something inside Nindia snapped. Rage and sorrow fused into a burning hatred. Her hand grasped the stone she had tripped over, and with a desperate strength, she hurled it at Ezekiel. The stone struck his helmet, a hollow clang that momentarily dazed him.

Using the distraction, Nindia scrambled to her feet and ran, tears streaming down her face. She had to find her mother. She had to survive.

The cottage was a smoldering ruin when she reached it, the door hanging off its hinges. Inside, she found her mother lying on the floor, a pool of blood spreading around her. Nindia fell to her knees beside her, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry, Nindia," her mother whispered, her voice faint. "I couldn't... couldn't protect you."

Nindia clutched her mother's hand, her tears mingling with the blood. "No, Mama, please, stay with me."

But it was too late. Her mother's eyes closed, her chest stilling.

Nindia felt something hard beneath her hand and looked down to see a cloak with black feathers – the feathers of the Raven Sisters, now soaked in blood. She gathered it up, clutching to her chest.

The sounds of the Rust Brothers drew nearer, and Nindia knew she had to move. She stood, a new resolve hardening within her. She would survive this night, and she would avenge her family and her village.

With the Raven feathers in her cloak and a burning desire for vengeance in her heart, Nindia slipped into the shadows, disappearing into the forest. The night had stolen everything from her, but it had also given her a new purpose. She would make the followers of Rust pay for their atrocities. She would drench the earth with their blood.

The village of Fernbrook was gone, but Nindia's fight was just beginning.

Springrise. 6th day
Morning

The first light of dawn cast a pale glow over the desolate landscape. Nindia trudged along an ancient road, her eyes red and swollen from a night of tears and sleepless terror. The road beneath her feet was cracked and uneven, a testament to the restless slumber of the earth and the long-neglected maintenance since the Man Flood of 835 AS. Loose gravel filled the fissures, a makeshift repair that only served to highlight the road’s decay. In the early morning light, the path seemed like a ghostly remnant of a time long past.

Nindia pulled her cloak tighter around her, the Raven feathers brushing against her cheeks, a silent reminder of her loss. She had fled Fernbrook with a few items and rations hastily grabbed in the chaos: among them a small pouch of dried meat, a waterskin, a knife, scimitar, and her cloak. These scant supplies were all that stood between her and the wilderness, and she clung to them as she walked.

The road wound through dense forests and plains, the morning mist clinging to the ground like a spectral veil. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of her grief and exhaustion bearing down on her. Memories of her family and the Raven Sisters haunted her every thought, their faces blending with the twisted masks of the Rust Brothers. Intermittent light rain fell, its cool droplets mingling with Nindia's tears, washing away the grime of smoke and blood but not the pain. The rain would come and go, and between the showers, the sun peeked through the clouds, casting a fleeting warmth on her weary body.

Now, the ancient dwarven road was her only guide, leading her away from the horrors of last night and towards the small village of Willowbrook. There, she hoped to find solace and aid from her old friends, Faramos, Brandon and his daughter Brenda.

There will be time for the sorrow. Nindia keeps telling herself to focus on the only thing that matter now: finding the way. But she can't resist the vision of her mother in a pool of blood.

Hours passed. Nindia’s feet ached, her stomach growled with hunger, but she pressed on, driven by sheer willpower. The road descended into a shallow valley, where the ground grew muddy and treacherous after recent rains. She slipped several times, the loose gravel doing little to provide stability.

During a sunny interval, Nindia paused to rest on a large stone by the roadside. She unwrapped the bundle of cloth to reveal the dried meat, tearing off a piece with her teeth. The taste was bland, but it provided some energy. She sipped from her waterskin, the cool water soothing her parched throat.

As she finished the last morsel of food and drained the waterskin, a wave of exhaustion washed over her. She had no more provisions left.Gathering her resolve, Nindia resumed her journey, hoping she could reach Willowbrook before her strength gave out entirely. She failed to notice the small, overgrown hollow by the side of the road. With one misstep, she plunged her foot right into a nest of wasps. The ground erupted in a furious buzz, and in an instant, an angry swarm surrounded her.

Good. The food would only attract predators she think as she finish last of her rations.
Nice, less to carry, faster I can go. she thinks drinking last of her water.
I have me, my blade and my revenge. That's enough, isn't it? she moves on, but somehow self inspiration doesn't work the way she hope it would.

Springrise, 6th day.
Morning
Panic seized Nindia. She swatted at the wasps, trying to shield her face with her cloak. She screamed and ran, desperate to escape the swarm. After what felt like an eternity, she found herself by a small stream. She splashed into the water, hoping the cold would drive away the persistent wasps. The chill of the stream was a shock, but it brought a measure of relief as the wasps finally dispersed, leaving her shivering.Soaked and shivering, Nindia crawled to the bank, her body covered in welts and stings. She lay there, gasping for breath, tears mingling with the rain that had started to fall again. The wasp attack was a cruel reminder of her vulnerability, of how alone she truly was.

End of chapter