“I must run… I have to run away…”

The forest seemed to spin around her. The twigs cracked beneath her steps as she ran as fast as her small legs could carry her. Her feet were scraped by stones and roots, but she couldn’t stop.

Behind her, her pursuers were getting closer and closer.

Her small, fragile body suddenly stumbled and fell to the ground without a sound.

Camilla was only nine years old.

She was an Arvendal. The Arvendal carried the blood of the fox. Once, they were simple foxes living among the other creatures of the forest. But they were hunted by humans, captured, sold as slaves, mistreated, and humiliated.

One day, six foxes decided to put an end to that suffering. They went to Mount Norme, an ancient place surrounded by mystery.

An old legend said that an entity named Himé resided there.

It was said that Himé could hear broken souls and feel the despair of spirits.

During a ceremony performed by the six foxes to summon her, something incredible happened.

Suddenly, the earth began to tremble.

From the ground then rose a huge rose, as large as a tree.

The flower slowly opened. From it came a cloud of bright, sparkling smoke that enveloped the six foxes.

That smoke was the power of Himé.

It surrounded those who were strong enough to endure the strength that the spirit offered them.

The smoke entered the bodies of the six foxes.

But three succumbed to that power. It was too great for them.

The other three suffered terribly before fainting.

When they woke up, they saw their companions dead.

The wind blew softly around them, and a voice seemed to whisper through the breeze:

“Arvendal… that will now be your name.

You will no longer be hunted… you will hunt.”

The smoke then descended from Mount Norme, invading the forest. It continued its path to the human cities.

A strange epidemic spread.

The livestock died. Humans died.

But the foxes remained unharmed.

No one understood the origin of that disease.

It was the revenge of the Arvendal.

The first three Arvendal then began to massacre villages.

It was said that some now possessed incredible powers: healing, controlling certain forces, and many other abilities.

And with each new descendant, an even more powerful ability appeared.

They now lived to take revenge.

Faced with these massacres, a great council was organized. Representatives of every nation and every creature gathered.

One of the first Arvendal was also present.

The Witch of the North spoke.

— We cannot let these massacres continue.

One of the first Arvendal answered coldly:

— When we were hunted, killed, and sold as slaves… where was this council?

A murmur spread through the assembly.

— The forest around Mount Norme already belongs to you. What more do you want? said some members of the council.

Then Myria, an oracle, stood up.

— We understand your suffering. But today, even the innocent are paying the price for the guilty. That is why we hope we can reason with you.

After this meeting, the Arvendal withdrew into distant forests.

Little by little, people stopped hearing about them.

With time, some even began to believe that the Arvendal were nothing more than a simple legend, invented to prevent people from mistreating foxes.

But in the shadows, their numbers kept growing.

And so did their influence.

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Camilla lived in a small village in the north of the Empire of Aetheris, with her aunt.

Her mother, Miranda, had died a few months after her birth. She had already been very ill, but Camilla’s powers, which appeared from birth, had allowed her to live a little longer.

Camilla had never truly known her.

Only fragments remained—stories, soft memories that were not even hers, and the gentle way her aunt spoke her mother’s name.

After Miranda’s death, Camilla’s father made a difficult decision.

He sent his daughter far from the capital, to an isolated village called Célestis.

Her father, Arthure Hunbert, was the duke of Aetheris. He knew very well what could happen if his daughter’s powers were discovered. He did not want her to be used by the imperial family or by people hungry for power.

So he chose distance.

Distance from danger…

But also distance from himself.

That is why he sent her to live in one of his domains, far to the north of the Empire.

There, Camilla grew up surrounded by nature, under the protection of her aunt Melinda, her mother’s twin sister.

Melinda tried her best.

She smiled often, spoke gently, and watched over Camilla with a quiet, constant care.

But sometimes, when she thought Camilla wasn’t looking… her expression would change.

A shadow of worry.

Of fear.

Camilla noticed more than people believed.

Camilla was not completely alone. She also had an older brother, who stayed in the capital with their father. He sometimes came to visit her, and those moments were the ones she cherished the most.

She would wait for him for hours… sometimes days.

And when he finally arrived, everything felt lighter.

Despite the distance, she loved him deeply.

The duke did his best to be present in his children’s lives, even if his responsibilities often prevented him from staying long.

And even when he came…

It never lasted enough.

One day, Melinda decided to take Camilla out for some fresh air.

— Camilla, my dear, stay right here, alright? said Melinda.

— I won’t move, you’ll see how good I’ll be! replied Camilla with a small smile.

— Alright, my dear. I’ll be right back.

They had gone for a walk in the forest, accompanied by several guards.

The air was calm.

Too calm.

What they did not know… was that one of those guards already knew Camilla’s secret.

Ordinary foxes only transformed at the age of twelve.

Yet, nature reacted almost at every step Camilla took…

Leaves shifted when she passed.

Branches bent slightly.

The wind lingered around her longer than it should.

And she was only seven when it began.

Only Arvendal could use their powers so early.

Even if it was unstable.

The guard named Reyes had understood.

He had been watching her.

Waiting.

He had joined their escort with a very specific intention.

If the opportunity came…

He would take her.

Because some people were willing to pay a fortune to capture an Arvendal.

Many believed these creatures were nothing more than legends.

Stories told to frighten children.

But if one truly existed…

It would be priceless.

That day, Melinda had taken Camilla out for a walk because her father had not come for her ninth birthday.

Camilla had smiled.

She had said it didn’t matter.

That she understood.

But Melinda saw through it.

She saw the way Camilla’s eyes lingered on the road…

As if still hoping.

So she brought her to the forest.

To distract her.

To give her something peaceful.

But somewhere nearby…

An ambush was already taking shape.

For a brief moment, Mélinda turned her back.

Camilla stepped away quietly.

A small flower had caught her attention.

She knelt down, reaching for it—

Suddenly—

Men appeared from all sides.

Everything happened too fast.

The guards didn’t even have time to react.

Blows. Shouts. Bodies falling.

Mélinda turned—

— Camilla—!

A sharp strike hit her head.

The world spun.

She collapsed.

Something shifted.

Something wrong.

The air grew heavier.

From the ground, vines burst violently, twisting and wrapping around some of the attackers.

They tightened.

Strangled.

Crushed.

The men shouted in panic.

— What is this?!

They turned—

And saw her.

Camilla.

Her green eyes… darkening.

Something inside her was breaking free.

Awakening.

But before it could fully surface—

A man rushed forward.

Slap.

The sound echoed sharply.

Camilla’s head snapped to the side.

She fell.

The vines froze.

Then stopped.

Her body went still.

Unconscious.

A man let out a low chuckle.

— So… you weren’t lying, Reyes.

His eyes gleamed as he looked at the small, fragile girl lying on the ground.

— We’re going to make a fortune with this one.

© Jameila pose – All rights reserved.

— Take her! shouted one of the men.

— No! Please, don’t take her! cried Melinda.

She received another violent blow to the head. A sharp pain exploded in her skull… then everything went dark again.

When little Camilla opened her eyes, her vision was blurry. Her head throbbed painfully.

She was locked in a cage.

Cold metal bars surrounded her. Around her neck, a collar pressed tightly against her skin… she could feel it suppressing something inside her.

Her magic.

Panic rose in her chest.

The small wooden cabin creaked… then began to tremble.

— Calm down, girl.

The walls vibrated more and more.

Camilla’s breathing became irregular. Her hands trembled.

— I told you to calm down!

The man stormed forward, opened the cage roughly, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her outside.

Before she could even understand—

Crack.

The whip struck her back.

— No… please… it hurts…

Another strike.

Her body jerked. Tears streamed down her face. Warm drops of blood slowly stained her clothes.

— Stop! Don’t damage the merchandise, said another man.

— No matter what she is… she’s still a child, replied the second, his voice less certain.

The third man let out a cold laugh.

— Too late to grow a conscience.

The whip stopped.

Camilla’s vision blurred again… the pain, the fear, the exhaustion—

Everything went dark.

When she woke up again, the world felt distant.

Her body was heavy.

Voices echoed nearby.

— We’ll move her tonight… but are you sure she’s alright?

— Of course. A few lashes won’t kill her.

— Maybe… but she hasn’t woken up in three days…

Three days…

Camilla barely moved.

Her eyes shifted slowly.

The cage door… was slightly open.

Her heart skipped a beat.

The men weren’t watching her.

Slowly… very slowly… she pushed herself up. Every movement hurt.

She bit her lip to stop herself from making a sound.

Step by step, she slipped out of the cage… then hid beside the cabin door, her small body shaking.

Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure they could hear it.

— Where is that brat?!

The men rushed to the cage.

Their backs were turned.

That was her chance.

Camilla ran.

Branches whipped her face.

Her breath came in short, broken gasps.

Her feet scraped against stones, roots tearing at her skin.

She stumbled.

Got up.

Ran again.

— There she is!

— Catch her! NOW!

Her vision blurred with tears.

“I don’t want to die…”

She ran faster.

Her legs burned.

Her lungs felt like they were on fire.

She tripped—

And crashed to the ground.

She couldn’t get up.

Not anymore.

Leaves rustled behind her.

— She runs pretty fast for a kid, said one of the men, grabbing her arm. Your run ends here.

— I should have broken your legs earlier, growled the other.

— No… let me go… please…!

Her voice broke.

This time… she really thought it was over.

Suddenly—

An arrow cut through the air.

It pierced one man’s eye.

He collapsed instantly.

The other froze… then tried to run, dragging Camilla with him.

— What the—?!

Thud. Thud. Thud.

More arrows struck his body.

He fell.

Silence.

A heavy, unnatural silence filled the forest.

Camilla didn’t move.

She was shaking uncontrollably.

Then—

Movement.

Shadows shifted in the trees.

Figures appeared above.

Watching.

One by one, they descended from the branches, silent… controlled.

— It’s been too long since they’ve been trampling our lands without consequences, said a woman calmly.

Her gaze fixed on Camilla.

Sharp. Observant.

Not cruel… but not gentle either.

Camilla held her breath.

The woman stepped closer.

Her name was Emmanuela.

She was a creature of the forest…

A Naerith.

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