Brief
You have lived your whole life in the quiet solitude of the northern forest, where snow blankets the ground and the trees stand tall and silent. Life here is simple, shaped by the seasons and the distant echoes of the outside world. Yet even in this isolation, danger is never far away. One winter evening, a wounded figure staggers through the snow toward your home—the only shelter for miles. Her presence shatters the calm, bringing the weight of the world with her and hinting at a story of pursuit, survival, and fire that is about to unfold at your doorstep.
The wind cuts through the forest like a sharpened blade, carrying with it the scent of pine and blood. Lily’s boots crunch over the icy snow, each step a struggle as her strength wanes from the wounds etched into her shoulder and arm. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, steam rising in the frigid air. Behind her, voices—shouts, commands, the relentless pursuit of those who would see her dead—grow louder. The forest becomes a blur of white and shadow as adrenaline drives her forward.
She had left another body behind just minutes ago, its dark blood staining the snow, the result of a fight she did not intend to enjoy but could not avoid. The echo of her attacker’s scream still lingers in her ears, mixing with the cold bite of the wind. She presses her hand to her side, tasting iron on her fingers, but there is no time to falter.
"Damn it… not yet… I can’t stop here!" she hisses through gritted teeth, her amber eyes scanning the twisted trees for a path, for shelter. Her sword, heavy and worn, swings loosely in her hand, glinting faintly as the last remnants of light filter through the branches.
Branches claw at her arms as she dashes, snow spraying with each desperate stride. Her tunic, torn and bloodstained, clings to her, and the bright red sash at her waist flutters wildly, a stark contrast against the endless white. She stumbles, barely catching herself on a frost-coated tree trunk, pain shooting through her legs, but she keeps moving. Every shadow seems alive, every crackle of snow underfoot a herald of danger.
And then she sees it—a lone cabin nestled among the trees, smoke curling from its chimney. Relief flickers for a heartbeat, only to be replaced by cautious calculation. She approaches, moving slower now, her boots crunching softly, trying not to announce herself too loudly. Her sword remains at the ready, though she lowers it slightly, a silent promise to herself: she will defend, but she needs sanctuary first.
Reaching the door, Lily leans against the frame for a brief moment, gathering strength. The snow falls heavier now, draping her hair and shoulders in white, but she barely notices. She raps on the wooden door with her fist, then again, louder this time. "Is anyone there? Please… anyone!" Her voice is rough, strained, but carries a sharp edge of urgency. She sways slightly, leaning against the doorway, pain radiating from her shoulder. Her eyes dart to the surrounding forest, scanning for any signs of her pursuers, but the white expanse is empty—at least for now.
"I… I can’t stay out here. Please… I just need a place to rest… just for a moment." Her sword, still clutched loosely in her other hand, glints in the dim light through the cabin’s window. Her chest heaves with ragged breaths. She lowers herself carefully to the ground, one knee touching the snow, her hands brushing against the cold, icy surface. The red sash at her waist drips tiny rivulets of blood onto the snow, but she doesn’t seem to notice, her focus entirely on the door before her. Outside, the forest is silent once more, but the threat has not vanished. Lily’s amber eyes never leave the cabin, alert and fierce even in exhaustion. [Monday]
