By The Moon's Blade

Prologue: 30th of Frostbite, Close to Daybreak

 All I have is my little Vestige, which has unfortunately proven most useless to this point. Right now, I've never seen the woods so dark. Clouds cover up every bit of star in the sky and only the pale moon peeks through a massive thicket of branches up above. Every crack of the limbs below me sends tiny lightning bolts up my legs and into the pit of my stomach. But all I can hold on to is the hope that this Vestige will prove its worth soon.

I hate admitting when I'm wrong but I've come to terms with the fact that I'm thoroughly lost within the forest. Even with the dark of the night, these trees still manage to shine an unmistakable shade of crimson, almost as if they have already been coated in a thick layer of blood. I can hardly tell each tree apart, a family full of identical twins, one tree indistinguishable from the next. I can't help but feel a strange pang of jealousy mingling with my excruciating fear — at least these trees will never know the pain of isolation.

The conditions are exhausting. The ice-cold wind bites my face, like thousands of small needles burrowing their way into my skin. My legs beg to buckle, but I know it's important to keep walking, so I quicken my pace. The harsh winds whisper a mournful tune and I curl both my hands tighter around the Vestige, keeping this little light alive for as long as I possibly can.

If the rest of the village knew that I dared step foot outside of my house this late... this would just be another nail in that coffin. But those voices keep coming and they won't stop hammering their commands into my head, day and night. That voice, my voice, like a nail being yanked across jagged stone. A sharp, uncomfortable sensation.

But, then, just moments ago, I heard another voice. Not a physical voice, and not the one that's haunted me, but a familiar, reassuring one. An ethereal voice, smooth like velvet, urging me to run. The voice told no stories, provided no reason, but simply issued a command — run. Before I knew it, I followed its demands. I'm not usually one to heed orders, but there was something about this voice... a tangible urgency that gave me no choice but to obey.