The chosen flame

Scene 1: The Village of Havenwood

The sun dipped low over Havenwood, painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson. Eira wiped sweat from her brow as she hammered a glowing horseshoe in her father's forge. The rhythmic clang of metal was soothing, a constant in her ordinary life.

"Eira," her father called, setting down a heavy axe he had been sharpening. "Tomorrow's market day. Make sure the tools are ready."

"Of course, Father," she replied with a small smile.

That night, as the village prepared for supper, the peaceful air shattered with a deafening roar. Villagers rushed into the square, fear etched on their faces as a massive wyvern descended from the sky, its black scales shimmering like oil.

Eira froze, watching as the creature unleashed a burst of fire onto the market stalls. People screamed, scattering in all directions. Her father grabbed her arm.

"Run, Eira!"

But she didn't run. A strange pull anchored her feet to the ground. When the wyvern's blazing eyes locked on her, time seemed to slow.