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The Crone didn't question her. She reached for her staff and motioned for Seren to follow.

The moment they stepped outside, they saw it - a tree, ancient and gnarled, groaning as it leaned dangerously against the village wall. A storm had loosened the roots. It would fall.

Seren pressed her hands against its bark. She felt its exhaustion, its struggle.

"Hold," she whispered, voice thick with desperation.

The tree shuddered but steadied, its weight shifting just enough to keep from toppling. The Crone worked quickly, muttering incantations, sealing its roots with earth and magic. When they stepped back, the tree stood firm once more.

Seren exhaled, her pulse racing.

"You are tied to this land more than you know," the Crone said softly.

There were other moments - when she touched a sick child's forehead and felt the fever lessen, when she sensed a fox's fear before she even saw it, when the air itself whispered before danger struck.

It was thrilling. It was terrifying

Then, one evening, the raid happened. The alarm sounded, and the women and children were rushed into the bunker beneath the village. Seren huddled in the dim space, heart hammering, until she heard it-a cry, high-pitched and terrified, from outside. Her niece, Via. Without thinking, she darted out into the chaos. She found the little girl trembling near the entrance and scooped her up, running back to safety.

She handed the child to waiting hands and was about to climb down. She almost made it.

A rough hand grabbed her from behind, yanking her backwards. The trapdoor banged shut. She twisted, fought with all her might, but she was no match for a full-grown man. He got his arms around her chest, his grip crushing. Pain exploded in her arm, the sickening pop warning her it was close to breaking. He leered and spat obscenities at her. And then-

She screamed.

The next thing she knew, he dropped her. Blood poured from his eyes, his ears, his mouth. He convulsed and fell, dead. The sight sent a bolt of terror through her, and she ran, stumbling back into the bunker, saying nothing. Even after they were rescued, she told no one. Had it been a fluke? A curse?

Life moved on. Her mother, ever pragmatic, taught her how to cook, insisting she would need the skill for her betrothed. Seren rolled her eyes but obeyed.

The warriors teased her endlessly whenever she asked about Hagan.

"Eager, aren't you?" one would chuckle.

Another ruffled her hair. "He'll be lucky to have you, little princess."

Raik, always the fool, smirked. "Careful, Seren. What if Hagan takes one look at you and runs off into the hills? Might want to learn how to make a meal that won't send him fleeing."

Boren, the ever-gloomy one, shook his head. "Or worse - what if you arrive and he's hideous? Big nose, bad teeth, smells like a goat." He sighed dramatically. "Poor thing, doomed before she even starts."

Seren scowled. "You two are the worst."

Raik grinned. "That's what my mother says."

Boren grunted. "Mine too."

Before they could continue, Rheon's sharp voice cut through. "Off with you both, jobless twats."

Raik snickered but obeyed, dragging Boren along with him.

Seren watched them go, shaking her head. "They're insufferable."

Rheon grunted. "Aye. But they're not wrong. You better hope Hagan's got all his teeth."

Seren groaned.

Chapter 18

Seren