PROLOGUE

When she finds him, she’s running for her life. The battlefield lies behind her somewhere – too close still, the shouts of men and the clanging of weapons all too distinct, all too harrowing. She’s running for her life in the woods she’s grown up in, her hands full of a bundled something that may be her salvation or her downfall. She’s not being followed, but they’ll soon be scouring the place for traces of her, now that she’s gotten her hands on it.

And that’s when she sees him. In all the frenzy, the panic, and fear, she spots his form crumpled up on the ground, as though he’s fallen from one of the trees. She doesn’t know him, has never seen another soul in this forest – apart from her father’s – and knows only one thing: he is not right.

A final act of mercy, she thinks as she stops beside him, panting so loud she can’t tell if those are footsteps she hears or the frantic pounding of her own heart. She sets down her bundle – gingerly – and pulls out the old, patched up cloth sack that was once her father’s – one of the few items he left behind that she would never part with, if she has any say in the matter.

He fits easily into the enchanted sack, and she hoists it over her shoulder, as light as a feather. She picks up her bundle and continues on her way. She could be packed and ready to leave within the hour – but she doesn’t have that long, and she doesn’t know if anyone saw her back there, in the middle of all the turmoil.

She finds her little cottage much as she left it, and almost rips the door from its hinges. He is still in the sack, and while she could waste her time tending to him on that modest little cot she calls a bed, she doesn’t have the time, nor the presence of mind. Instead she grabs her belongings – the most important, the most precious, and throws them all into the sack with him. It’s big enough – her father carried their entire cottage in it, once upon a time – but she hopes that the stranger isn’t being crushed under the weight of her furniture and personal items.

Warning: Intruders detected on the western border of the forest.

She has only minutes – no, seconds – and she must run now, or risk being caught and having the precious item in her possession fall back into the hands of those that might do wrong with it.

The choice isn’t much of a choice at all.

She doesn’t know where she’s headed, but she hopes that one day, she’ll be able to return to this peaceful little cottage, this tiny home in the middle of the forest that raised her as much as her father had.

Hoisting the light sack over her shoulder, she leaves the small cottage behind and runs.

Warning: Intruders detected approaching Home.