Her true identity is a mystery even to those who believe they know her secret, but in a world like Avelor, where survival is the very purpose of the human race, that secret can become both the greatest enemy and the key to salvation.
Trying to...
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I waited silently hidden behind the increasingly sparse foliage. It was a scorching day, typical of early August. The midday sunrays spilled through the branches of the ancient trees and bathed the clearing in a golden light that playfully shimmered on the nearby pond. The forest was shrouded in a pleasant, almost comforting silence that made you lose yourself, at least for a while, and forget the worries that burdened you. Several hours had passed since I had been motionless, and now I felt my back stiffen from the prolonged wait. It was futile; I wasn't going to catch anything here. It was known that the forest area bordering the Vexa Territory to the South was almost deserted. I had caught a rabbit nearly a week ago, but since then, I hadn't had any luck. I sighed in disappointment and descended from the tree that had served as my hiding spot until then, heading slowly towards the edge of the forest.
At home, my mother was probably waiting for me, hungry. I could picture her pacing by the window, looking worriedly toward the forest's edge. She couldn't stand knowing that I exposed myself to such danger, but in the absence of my father, I was the only one who could hunt. Many years before, my mother had suffered a terrible accident that had nearly cost her life, but fortunately, we had found a doctor in time. However, the accident had left a strong mark, and for almost two years, she could hardly walk. Though her mobility had recently improved, it wasn't enough for her to venture into the woods. It was hard to convince her to let me go, but after sneaking out on several occasions to procure food and returning victorious, she had decided to let me, but with the sole condition of returning home before sunset.
I took a deep breath and looked towards the old leather pouch hanging lightly at my waist. I had to go through the market. It pained me to think that I would have to dip into the money my father had left us, which had visibly dwindled. It didn't help that a crisis had hit half of Avelor, caused by rising taxes and doubling prices of goods. I quickened my pace, eager to resolve matters as quickly as possible so I could return home.
The Rose Market was as it had been for as long as I could remember. A wide open space, filled with bustling people and fragrances, flanked by dilapidated buildings that often served as shops or taverns. In the center, there were stalls behind which vendors loudly praised their wares in hopes of selling them quickly. Here, the lower class of society typically spent their time, though occasionally, you could spot a few from the middle class, looking for a bargain. However, most preferred the northern part of the city, which was closer to the "good life" and the king's citadel.
I glanced to the left, where his massive castle loomed imposingly. Its high stone towers disappeared into the dense mist that ominously descended upon the city, and above the thick walls, you could see soldiers patrolling in blue uniforms, bearing the symbol of the royal house: a winged white horse.
It was no secret that Zakras was not truly a king, but rather a puppet used by Astaroth at will to ensure order was maintained. This was reason enough for the wealthy to try to curry favor with him and obtain certain favors from Astaroth in exchange for services.
