Chapter 1; Darkness Has Descended

As I delved deeper into the dense woods, the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant calls of woodland creatures surrounded me. The cool autumn breeze filled my lungs as I moved with the grace of a seasoned hunter. Hunger gnawed at my belly, and my arms ached from carrying my bow in search of sustenance, akin to a famished predator. The truth is, hunger grips not just me but all of us in Ferngrove.

Until two years ago, Ferngrove thrived. Its lands were abundant, and fishermen returned daily with tales of plentiful catches. However, the past two years have been marked by hardship. Famine has become our unwanted companion. The once plentiful fish have vanished from our waters, and the wildlife seems to be in constant flux. Some whisper of a curse upon Ferngrove, but my father, the village chief, insists it's merely a phase. But how long must we endure?

I press forward, my bow at the ready, its wood worn smooth by countless hunts. Each step reinforces my duty to provide for my family in Ferngrove, a tranquil hamlet nestled among ancient trees, far removed from the chaos of the outside world. Ferngrove is my birthplace, my home, and my responsibility.

The forest teemed with life, its mysteries concealed in the shifting play of light and shadow. Moving silently, I stalked through the underbrush, alert to the slightest sound. Then, amidst the verdant tranquility, I spied her – a magnificent doe, her sleek form illuminated by the golden rays, grazing peacefully.

With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I seized the opportunity to provide for my family, to showcase my prowess as a hunter. But hesitation was a luxury I couldn't afford; another hungry soul might claim the prize if I faltered. I envisioned Edina's joyful dance and father's proud smile as I returned home triumphant, burdened with the weight of our evening meal.

Drawing my bow, I aimed carefully, but my first shot missed its mark, the doe darting away. Disappointment weighed heavily upon me, but determination spurred me on. With resolve, I pursued my elusive prey, navigating through the dense foliage, driven by the urgency of the chase.

Eventually, I found her again, grazing serenely in a sunlit glade. Taking a deep breath, I steadied my aim and released the arrow, this time striking true. The doe stumbled and fell, a testament to my persistence and skill.

Approaching her with reverence, I acknowledged the sacrifice she made for my family's survival. With gratitude, I lifted her onto my shoulders, ready to return to Ferngrove with our bounty. As I trekked homeward, a sense of pride and accomplishment filled me, spurred on by the anticipation of sharing the spoils with my loved ones.

Approaching our humble cottage nestled among the towering trees, I felt a wave of solace wash over me. The familiar sight of its weathered thatched roof and sturdy wooden walls greeted me, basking in the warm embrace of the setting sun.

Peering through the small window, I caught sight of Edina, my elder sister, lost in contemplation as she gazed out at the horizon. Her golden brown hair, reminiscent of father's, framed her face, illuminated by the gentle glow filtering through the windowpane. There was a distant yearning in her eyes, hinting at desires beyond the boundaries of our modest abode.

Pushing open the door, its familiar creak echoing in the quietude, I entered our sanctuary. The comforting scent of home greeted me – the earthy warmth of the hearth mingled with the subtle sweetness of drying herbs hanging from the rafters. Edina turned towards me, her eyes alight with a mixture of relief and curiosity at my return.

 "Mae, you've returned!" she exclaimed, gracefully rising from her seat to greet me. Her blue dress billowed around her, accentuated by a delicate white corset adorned with flowers. Edina was the epitome of grace, a stark contrast to my own rugged appearance as a hunter, clad in fitted pants, a loose tunic, and a leather waistcoat, with worn boots and scarred hands from countless hunts for our supper. 

"Did your hunt go well today?" she inquired eagerly.

I offered her a weary smile, the weight of the doe on my shoulders a tangible reminder of my success. "Yes, Edina. I managed to secure our dinner for tonight," I replied, my voice tinged with pride.

Gratitude shone in her eyes as she hurried to assist me in unloading the carcass. "Just dinner? You've provided for us for the entire week," she exclaimed, her hand gently brushing over the doe's fur. "Father will be thrilled."

Glancing around the cottage, I inquired, "Where is he?"

Edina's expression faltered. "Father? He went into town to negotiate with some merchants from distant lands at the market square. He's hoping to secure a loan to aid the villagers."

I chuckled softly, nudging Edina playfully. "Ah, Father and his noble endeavors to save the village. Always the dedicated chief, isn't he?"

Rolling her eyes in mock exasperation, Edina smiled. "Indeed, with his grand plans and unwavering commitment. But in times like these, we need someone to watch over us, especially with the challenges we've been facing."

I nodded in agreement, empathizing with the weight our father carried as the chief of a struggling village. "Indeed, let's hope his efforts yield positive results this time. A bit of good news would certainly be a welcome change."

As we busied ourselves with preparing the doe for cooking, our conversation shifted to lighter topics – village gossip, Edina's latest embroidery projects, and even her rumored crush on a certain handsome blacksmith's apprentice.

"So, Edina," I teased, a playful glint in my eye, "any updates on your secret admirer? Or shall I continue to feign ignorance whenever he passes by?"

Edina's cheeks flushed, and she playfully swatted at me. "Oh, hush, Mae! It's nothing serious, just a passing fancy."

I grinned, enjoying the chance to tease my sister. "Sure, sure. Well, if you ever need advice on matters of the heart, you know where to find me."

Edina's playful demeanor shifted as she turned the tables. "Speaking of secrets, care to share anything about your rendezvous with Adrian? The girls at the temple seem quite convinced."

Caught off guard, I chuckled nervously. "It's just companionship, nothing more."

Edina raised an eyebrow. "Companionship that involves visits to inns and strolls through the market, hmm?"

Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and Father entered, his expression etched with concern.

"Mae, Edina," he began gravely, "we need to talk. Something has happened – something dire."

My heart sank at the seriousness in his voice, and I exchanged a worried glance with Edina. Whatever news Father brought, I knew it spelled trouble for our village of Ferngrove.

Guiding Father to the worn wooden table, Edina fetched him a cup of water, her steps echoing against the floorboards. Returning quickly, she handed him the cup, and we waited anxiously for him to speak.

"Father, please," I urged softly, my concern evident in my voice. "Tell us what's troubling you."

With a heavy sigh, Father met our gazes, his grip tightening around our hands. "My daughters," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "I fear I've let you both down."

Edina leaned in, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Is it the merchants, Father? Did they refuse to aid us?"

He shook his head solemnly. "No, my dear. It's something far graver."

Anxiety clenched my heart as I exchanged a worried glance with Edina. "What do you mean, Father? Please, tell us."

Father's expression darkened, his tone serious as he uttered words that filled me with dread. "Darkness has befallen our village, and with it, a threat more sinister than anything we've encountered. Evil has come to our doorstep."