Chapter 1

Amidst the haze of my consciousness, the soft pitter-patter of water droplets hitting a puddle could be faintly heard. In the background, a gentle chorus of bees buzzed, their collective hum delicately teasing my ears. A subtle motion stirred beneath my feet, yet the precise source of these sensations remained elusive. What was causing this faint stir in the surroundings? With great effort, I managed to pry open my heavy eyelids.

It wasn’t a significant tremor, more akin to a feeble ripple. Nevertheless, a searing agony coursed through me, as if every fiber of my being were being rented asunder. It was to be expected. Prior to my descent into unconsciousness, a cruel lash had relentlessly struck my back, leaving me to speculate if my flesh had already been torn apart, my bones laid bare.

“Ugh,” I groaned, as an icy-cold sensation, as if being impaled by frigid needles, intertwined with the relentless pain. I attempted to reach for the source of the pain, but inexplicably found myself immobilized.

Through half-lidded eyes, obscured by lengthy lashes, I cast a downward glance at my own body. An involuntary gulp accompanied the sight that met my gaze. Thick ropes bound my chest, both arms, waist, and knees, securing me firmly to a robust wooden structure. The air was tainted with the noxious odor of rancid oil, wafting from a pile of firewood beneath my feet, threatening to upset my already uneasy stomach.

Though the shifting shadows obscured my vision, an eerie and unfamiliar pattern etched on the ground became faintly discernible. A hushed query escaped my lips, “What is all this?” The words were barely a whisper, but in that instant, the ceaseless buzz that had surrounded me abruptly hushed.

“It appears you’ve awoken,” a voice declared, while the pointed end of a lengthy wooden pole lightly touched my chin. It was Lesph, one of the elders of the White Fox tribe. His weathered countenance bore the deep creases where white hair and beard met.

“Why are you subjecting me to this?” I inquired, each utterance coating my mouth with the acrid taste of blood, as if my lips had been torn.

“Do you not understand? Who do you think bears the blame for the White Fox tribe’s loss of Terra Demorte and our exile to the north?”

“It’s not my fault that we lost in battle.”

“You are heartless. Have you never wondered why we were defeated by the Black Wolf tribe? It is because the land’s deities grew wrathful with you, your mother, and our chieftain Rosou, stripping away their blessings. Your mother and Chieftain Rosou have already met their end, leaving you as the sole offering to appease the gods’ ire.”

“This is nothing but coercion. My death won’t resurrect the land we lost in that war.”

In a swift motion, Lesph seized my hair, wrenching my head backward. An acute pang shot down my spine, accompanied by a muffled thud from behind.

“Ugh,” I involuntarily groaned, and Lesph’s hold on my hair tightened, his actions growing increasingly violent. Tears welled up, streaming down my face as the searing pain felt like my scalp was being violently torn from my head.

“Coercion, you claim? We live in a patriarchal system, where deviation from the mates chosen by the god of the land, Bajak, brings forth a curse we must endure. And who transgressed this rule? None other than Rosou. To compound matters, he fell for a witch of all people.”

“My mother wasn’t a witch. She was merely a gypsy. She possessed no magic,” I countered.

“Silence,” Lesph snapped, and with a sharp sound and a sudden flash before my eyes, one side of my face went numb. I lacked the strength to even blink or close my parted lips, yet Lesph’s furious voice persisted without respite.

“It’s plain to see, both you and your mother bear the mark of witches. The White Fox tribe cannot birth fiery red hair like yours. Eyes as shrouded in mist as yours are unheard of among the Red Wolf tribe. None here would hold a contrary view.”

Lesph dramatically swept his arm, gesturing to what lay beyond him. Behind him, a gathering of roughly a dozen White Fox tribe members, their expressions fierce and unyielding, formed a grim assembly.

The two figures at the forefront held diminutive torches, while the others gripped swords and whips with intent. All shared the common features of lustrous silver hair and obsidian irises. Not a single soul among them boasted fiery red hair like mine.

“Branding someone a witch solely due to their red hair is pure ignorance,” I muttered in a final, desperate attempt. My words seemed to strike a nerve, as anger surged across the faces of the encircling group, led by Lesph. It appeared I had unintentionally hit a raw nerve, but I harbored no desire to meet an unjust demise.

I had deliberately concealed myself in the depths of Terra Demorte’s woods after fleeing from my own tribe. At this juncture, there was no entity more ominous to me than my own kin, be it the Black Wolf tribe or Kennard. A morbid wish even crossed my mind — that I were truly a witch. If I possessed supernatural abilities, I would incinerate them in the blink of an eye, reduce their bones to dust, and savor the act with relish.

“Extinguish those torches at once. The Black Wolf tribe has penetrated the forest,” someone gasped urgently and shouted. The tribesfolk promptly snuffed out their torches by smothering them on the ground, vanishing into the cover of nearby trees and bushes.

My frantic gaze swept the surroundings, revealing nothing but densely packed trees that plunged everything into pitch-black obscurity and a heavy, stifling silence.

In response to this bleak scene, I summoned every ounce of my strength, determined to free myself from the rope binding my wrists behind the pillar. Amidst the chaotic commotion, everyone sought an opportunity to break free, yet the tightly cinched knot offered no solace, no matter how fiercely I wriggled.

“Oh, please… Please. Ugh,” I whimpered as I twisted my wrist with unyielding resolve, the flesh on my skin peeling away with every agonizing effort, a searing pain coursing through me. A warm, viscous liquid trickled down from my wrist to my trembling fingertips.

“Do you yearn for escape? If you so desire, I can arrange it,” a sudden whisper, both eerily familiar yet enigmatic, sent a paralyzing chill throughout my entire body. It was a voice that defied identification.

“I warned them that now is not the time to end your life. Those elders just won’t heed my counsel.”

“Who…” I began, only to be swiftly silenced.

“Shh.” As the man’s heated breath caressed my ear, an unsettling shiver raced from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes. I attempted to shift my head in discomfort, but a frigid hand clamped onto my chin, forcing it back into its original position.

“Instead, you must return when I come for you.”

“What do you mean?” I inquired in a hushed tone, an anxious thumping in my chest, fearful that my tribe might overhear.

The whispered words I heard seemed like my last lifeline. The tribes remained concealed, and the stillness around was unbroken. Then, as if by a stroke of magic, the ropes binding my wrists and body abruptly snapped. My unsteady form was hoisted by the mysterious man, and he gently lowered me to the ground.

In the darkness, the man’s face gradually materialized, though it remained somewhat shrouded. Slowly, a sinister smile stretched across his lips.

“To fulfill the promise, you must first survive, isn’t that right? Your opportunity is now. Run for your life with all your strength!”

I couldn’t entirely grasp the man’s words, but I couldn’t afford to linger in this place any longer. Just as he had said, the chance to escape and live beckoned at this very moment.

“Haah, haah,” I panted, unable to even close my mouth. The wild pounding of my heart showed no signs of abating, as though it might burst forth from my chest. A biting cold seemed to infiltrate every fiber of my being, from the tips of my hair to my toes.

With each rapid, raspy breath, a frigid and piercing wind penetrated deep into my lungs. My exhalations billowed into the icy air like mist, and my exposed skin stung as if it might crack.

Turning around, I stumbled and lost my footing, managing only a few faltering steps before a strangled groan escaped my lips.

As I trudged through the snow-covered landscape, my palm fell victim to a long, jutting tree root, slicing it open. However, even the cry of pain struggled to escape my lips. The unsettling realization that had I fallen slightly to the side, the root might have impaled my eye or cheek sent shivers coursing down my spine, surpassing the chill in the air.

With a fleeting glance at the blood trickling into my eyes from my wounded hand, I immediately scrambled to my feet and bolted forward. My fiery red hair, once hanging before my face, now billowed over my shoulders in the wind. The sound of the rushing wind resembled the fierce roars of a beast, yet my own ragged breathing reverberated even louder.

Before long, my tribal pursuers were once again hot on my heels. The hot, panting breath of these relentless predators, poised to tear my throat asunder, closed in behind me. No matter how fervently I sprinted, the gap between us showed no signs of widening. I ran with all the strength within me, desperate to elude death, but with each passing moment, the relentless pursuers drew ever closer.

“Please… Just leave me be,” I pleaded, a desperate plea that seemed to dissipate into the unforgiving wilderness.