“Disaster is never something you can plan for. It can strike at any moment. Disaster is not something you can foresee. It can happen on the darkest, coldest night of winter or the clearest day of spring. Disaster cannot be fought with iron or steel. The only known weapon capable of combating disaster is magic. I shall you a tale of an ancient time, full of hope and despair, heroes and villains, immense armies and epic battles, and most importantly, magic and disaster. This is the tale of An-Hamma Threywen and the Quest for Power.”
The sun flittered among the leaves, casting playful shadows along the forest floor. An-Hamma skipped playfully down the leaf-strewn path, her skirt billowing out behind her. She was returning to the hunting lodge where her older brother had taken residence. He had left early that morning on the hunt after hearing boars rooting outside the night before. An-Hamma knew of her brother’s departure, despite constant negative responses from her maid.
The sun was just setting beyond the western plain when An-Hamma reached the lodge. She walked slowly, feeling no rush, and happily whistled to herself when the forest around her turned deathly still. An-Hamma stopped midstride, surprised and frightened by the sudden silence.
Nothing moved, nothing chirped, nothing breathed. Even the wind had stopped blowing. An-Hamma shivered in fear, her panicking mind trying to find a reasonable explanation for her fear.
The young maiden was preparing to run when a shadow stole over her. Her head jerked up and her eyes widened in surprise. And then the shadow dove.
An-Hamma could do nothing to defend herself, not even move. She was hypnotized by the creature’s hideous grace and speed, but mostly by its eyes, grotesque oranges irises surrounded swirling pupils that changed constantly. The creature, fully knowing it held the foolish girl spellbound, continued its dive, heedless of all else. It did not see the glint of metal swords or hear the clanking of armor. It could only see the girl.
“Careful now. We don’t want to injure the maiden,” whispered a tall, red-haired knight to his counterpart.
“Hold thy tongue and let me aim,” hissed the crouching figure back. With that, he sighted quickly along his arrow at the diving shadow and released it with an audible TWANG! The arrow flew toward its target and buried itself deeply behind on of it glowing eyes. The creature fell like a stone and died before it hit the ground.
An-Hamma, now released from the creature’s spell, blinked and collapsed. Instinctively, she rolled sideways into the brush, not wanting to be captured by those eyes again. She looked up timidly and watched her assailant’s carcass. She shivered in spite of herself, slowly realizing she would be dead if not for some mysterious rescuer. Looking around again, she could faintly hear a hushed argument in the otherwise still silent forest.
