Sylvara opened her eyes, gazing toward the sky. A voice, old and withered, echoed from behind her.
"I've never seen the spirits this angry," Grandma Naelith said, shaking her head with a sigh. "Never in my five hundred years have I witnessed anything like this. But these last two years… these last three weeks have been the worst yet. Hopefully, they'll calm down from their tantrum."
I turned to look back, seeing Grandma Naelith, just back from her scouting mission. She looked tired but amused, as if the chaos didn't quite faze her.
"The valleys are flooded. Trees uprooted. It'll take the forest a long time to recover," she continued, though there was a lightness in her voice. "But you know, some of the old fogies think it's a sign from the heavens."
She chuckled, a knowing glint in her eye. "As if the heavens care about what's happening down here."
I hesitated, then asked, "What about you, Grandma? Do you believe it's a sign?"
Her smile softened. "Anything can be a sign if you look hard enough," she replied with a wink. "Like a broken twig or a wandering cloud. It all depends on what you choose to see."
Grandma looked young for her age, though then again, they all did. We didn't age very fast, but that came with its own complications.
The blessing of elves—eternal beauty and near-eternal life—was a gift and a burden in equal measure.
Even so, Grandma was still one of the most beautiful women in the village. Her long golden hair flowed like sunlight, and her blue eyes were as deep and wild as a raging sea. She possessed a large bosom and an hourglass frame that caught the eye, a striking presence that belied
"And what do you choose to see, Grandma?
"In our village," Grandma began, her tone shifting, "there's a prophecy of a great conqueror. His arrival will be praised by the heavens. Heroes will come to stop him, but they, too, will fail and be blown away. His will shall consume this world, and all shall be remade in his image."
She paused, her gaze thoughtful, as if weighing the weight of the story. "That story can be interpreted in many different ways. Some think of him as evil, a tyrant."
"So you believe this has something to do with… him?" Sylvara asked
Grandma Naelith shook her head. "No, not necessarily. I believe both are forces of change, and this," she said, gesturing vaguely at the turmoil outside, "is just an omen of what is to come. Change, in its many forms."
She smiled softly, her usual warmth returning. "Now, come, little bird. Your father will be waiting for us."
Grandma suddenly leapt off the tree we were standing on, falling for what felt like at least ten seconds. I followed, jumping from branch to branch, trying to keep pace.
She called out to me with a teasing tone. "Keep up! I'm not waiting for you."
I grinned, shaking my head. "Come on, Grandma, how am I supposed to keep up with someone who specializes in body improvement magic?"
She didn't even look back, a playful smirk on her face. "Don't know. Sounds like you better find out."
I struggled to keep up, still gasping for air. "What do you mean? Is this another one of your impromptu lessons?"
Grandma chuckled, glancing back at me. "Yep. The best lesson is actually doing it."
I frowned, trying to focus while sprinting. "Feel the mana flowing through your veins? Circulating through your body?"
"Exactly," she said, her voice steady and calm despite her speed. "Pay attention to your core, your mana Veins—don't force it. Let it help, let it react to your will."
I clenched my fists, trying to follow her instructions.
This was one of the simplest magics to learn—basic body enhancement magic. Yet magic was never my strong suit. I was always less talented than the others, which was ironic, considering my parents and Grandma were some of the strongest mages in the entire village. I wasn't supposed to be any different. The prodigal daughter, right? Yet here I was, incompetent at even the easiest of spells.
Grandma had tried to teach me this countless times. My connection to magic was… tenuous, to say the least. I was always more curious about why the world worked the way it did rather than simply willing things to happen. For someone like me, that perspective wasn't always welcome.
I stumbled, tripping over a root, nearly falling flat on my face.
"Keep moving!" Grandma barked, not even slowing down. "I'm not going to wait for you, Sylvara. You either learn now, or you don't learn at all."
I forced myself up, legs burning as I sprinted to catch up. My breathing spiraled out of control, every gasp scraping my lungs raw.
"Control your breathing!" she shouted over her shoulder.
"I'm trying, Grandma!" I gasped, frustration mixing with exhaustion.
"Not hard enough," she said firmly. "You think the world's going to go easy on you because I do? It won't. You're better than this. Whether you believe it or not, Sylvara, I see something in you—something raw, something waiting to grow. Now prove it."
Her words stung, but I couldn't stop now. I looked inward, trying to focus, trying to feel what she'd been talking about all this time. The mana inside me stirred, faint and unsteady, but it was there.
"Feel the mana flowing through your veins," she called. "Let it move, let it react to your will. Don't force it—be with it."
I grit my teeth, trying to tune out the pain. Slowly, my breaths began to steady. The rest of the world blurred, and all I could sense was the flow of mana coursing through me. My steps became lighter, my body moving more fluidly.
For the first time, I started catching up.
Grandma's voice cut through the haze. "There it is. Don't lose it now."
The sensation grew stronger, like static filling the air, a thunderous hum vibrating through my limbs. Sparks of light danced over my skin, energizing me. For a moment, I felt untouchable, like the world had bent to my will.
And then something slammed into me.
I didn't even see it coming. The impact struck my left side, sending me flying into a tree. Pain exploded through me as I hit the ground, a sharp cough ripping from my chest. The world spun before going dark.
A sharp voice broke through the void. "Sylvara! Get up! You have to get up!"
I forced my eyes open, my vision swimming. The shapes around me slowly sharpened into six towering figures. My heart dropped.
They were too close to the village. Beasts never came this far. Especially not a Vernal Wolf.
I turned to find Grandma. Blood dripped from a deep gash on her back, but she stood tall, her bow drawn. She loosed an arrow, striking one of the wolves in the eye.
I struggled to my feet, wobbling as I called out, "Grandma, watch out!"