A small girl named anaa with beautiful brown eyes and hair as white as snow,and an innocent heart lived peacefully in a quiet village with her loving family. Her days were filled with happiness, warmth, and laughter. Surrounded by love, in a village as beautiful as a dream, she knew nothing but joy.
But one day, everything changed.
Anaa was playing, carefree and smiling—when her whole life turned into a nightmare. Her world turned to ash.
anaa had been playing in the garden with her little brother and sister, their laughter echoing through the quiet village. Their mother was in the kitchen, cooking food, the scent drifting softly on the breeze. Then, in an instant, everything changed. Suddenly, chaos exploded around them. Flames erupted, screams rang out, and armed men stormed into the village. The air turned black with smoke. Star's mother screamed for them to run. Her father grabbed her hand and started running, holding her tightly as her little legs stumbled beside his desperate strides.
Then it happened.
A burning arrow pierced through the air and struck her mother. Her scream—sharp and raw—was the last sound anaa heard before her mother and sister were engulfed in flames. Right before her eyes… the ones she loved were burning, fading into ashes. Before they could think something, an arrow pierced the air—and struck her brother. He collapsed beside her, lifeless Her father stopped, falling to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he held anaa, in her arms and started running to the forest both of them trembling.
"Papa... Mama... Maa!" anaa sobbed, clutching his chest, unable to understand why the world had suddenly turned into a nightmare.
Her father tried to stay strong. He wiped her tears even as his own fell. "You are my brave child," he whispered, voice shaking. "You have to live... live for them."
But the soldiers were coming. Fast.
An arrow struck him next—straight through his back. He coughed, blood staining his lips. Still, he rose, his body trembling, and carried anaa into the forest.
They reached a river, the water dark and cold.
With one last ounce of strength, he took off the locket he always wore—the one passed down from generations—and placed it gently around anaa's neck. "You're my little princess," he whispered. "Never forget that. I love you… more than anything in this world."
anaa clung to him, screaming, "No, don't leave me, Papa!"
But he kissed her forehead and, with a trembling breath, pushed her into the river. "Live, my anaa. Live... for Mama, for your brother, for your sister… and for yourself."
The current pulled her away as she cried out, reaching toward the fading figure of her father standing wounded on the shore. That was the last time she saw him.
Drifting through water and grief, anaa's tiny heart shattered.
She had lost everything… her family, her home, her world.
That day, her peaceful village was swallowed by fire. A great war had erupted across the land—fueled by the desperate hunt for a legendary power. Villages were reduced to ashes. Innocent people were slaughtered, enslaved, or simply vanished into the smoke.