Marielle stood shivering from the cold in front of a large silver tombstone, trying to decipher the engraved inscription. Her siblings had disappeared into the New World at the beginning of the war, leaving her and the rest of the family behind. Since then, it had become a habit for her to walk down to the village every day to check if her brother or sister were among the dead. Sometimes she read names that sounded familiar, but her siblings were never among them. She kept her fears hidden from her mother, knowing that she had to protect her at least.

  The village bordered the Red River, over which a small, bumpy wooden bridge led to a secluded peninsula. On the peninsula, dotted with green fields, several ancient wells filled with magical energy, and the ruins of the former royal village, and the Hunter's Castle, she lived with her mother and younger sisters. Before the war, the peninsula had been the most idyllic place for her. She had felt at home here; with her brother, she had climbed every hill, and together they had mapped out every ruin and well. Apart from them, only the Hunters lived in their castle; otherwise, there was no one else on the peninsula.

  Once, before the war, she had visited the Hunter's Castle. Her brothers and sisters practiced the art of magic there. Afterwards, they would chase each other across the vast green meadows, eat blue and pink berries from the many blooming bushes, and fall laughing into the grass as the sun beamed down on their faces. In the summer, they often went together to the village and visited the lively markets in the kingdom, crowded with people. Back then, she could not imagine that it could ever be different. In her childlike naivety, she had been convinced that life in the Blue Forest would never change. Now the kingdom was dangerous, the once vast marble halls were deserted, and the prince and princess had left the kingdom months ago. Along with them, her brother Jeremiaz, who had been enlisted in the royal guard. When he left, he had kissed their weeping sister Yuna on her white hair. He would be back soon, he had promised her, then turned to her and their mother, and she had felt his fear. His face had been pale, he did not want to leave. But he never said a word about it. Instead, he forced a smile. She still had the image of his pale, freckled face in her memory, as if it had been just yesterday. She would never forget the fearful expression in his face. His long, pointed elf ears, his white-blond hair falling into his face. In another life, he would have completed his mage training, living with them forever on the peninsula, rather than now fighting for his life in the royal guard.

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  But that was the past. When she couldn't sleep at night, she wandered across the green meadows, her bow slung over her shoulder for safety. She passed the magical well that once gave the elves their energy. Since the war, things had changed. Now it was just any well, with no magical powers.

  Her reflection appeared in the well, the moonlight making her skin look greenish. Her red eyes sparkled in the water.

  Behind her, she first heard a faint rustling in the blue bushes, which grew louder. Startled, she turned around. But the shadow only laughed mockingly. Tristan stepped out from the shadows.

  "What are you doing here? You know full well that this is our peninsula," she said, trying to sound determined, but her voice betrayed her.

  "It's not like it bothers anyone," he sneered. He was right. Since the royal guards had left, law was no longer enforced in the Blue Forest.

  Still, she despised how easily he would just march onto their peninsula. She knew it had been him who had stolen vegetables from them.

  Driven by a sudden impulse, she drew her bow and aimed at him, letting the arrow fly just past him. He jumped to the side, but then laughed derisively. "I'm not afraid of you, girl. Your archery skills are pathetic. Practice a little more." She snorted. "Stop stealing from us!"

  "Or what?" He lunged at her, grabbed the bow, and before she could defend herself, he roughly twisted her arms behind her back. Her body went cold and stiff with fear. She tried, despite her paralysis, to fight back, but he was stronger. Desperately, she tried to kick him, but he just dodged her. Then, he suddenly released her.

  "Just leave me alone, man," he huffed angrily. Before she could respond, his ebony hair disappeared with him back into the shadows.

  She hated that she couldn't defend herself, that he was stronger. She hated her weakness. She missed her sister, her big, beautiful, strong sister. Her sister, who wasn't intimidated or threatened by thieves.

  Downhearted, she returned to her house on the hill. She lay down beside her sister and stroked her head, immediately falling asleep. That night, she dreamed of her own funeral. Her siblings stood crying around her, while she tried to get their attention. "Hey," she shook them, but no one noticed her.

  Sweating, she woke up.

  During the war, there wasn't much to do. The Hunter teachers had all left. Though there was still peace on the peninsula, how long that would last, she didn't know.

  For miles around, there was no soul in sight, only the occasional thief, including Tristan, who helped himself to the vegetables.

  The thieves knew that she and her family could not put up any resistance. Her brother would have had the authority to stand up to the ruffians. But her brother was not here.