Hymriel was a world where magic flourished.
The gods dwelled high in the heavens, silently watching over the races below while safeguarding the world itself.
Elves, dwarves, beastfolk, and humans.
All the races walked the lands beneath the gods’ protection and blessings, offering up their faith in return.
...
Tap. Tap. Tap...
Inside the old, solemn church, footsteps echoed one after another.
An elderly priest and a young acolyte walked down the aisle between rows of weathered wooden pews and stopped before a statue.
The old priest lifted his eyes to it, then stood there in silence.
As the quiet dragged on, the young acolyte started to get restless.
His still-boyish eyes darted around the room. The faint smell of old wood and damp floorboards made him wrinkle his nose.
The whole place felt worn-out and lifeless, like even time itself had started to rot here.
A tiny country church, huh.
The young acolyte sighed inwardly.
I really don’t want to spend the rest of my life stuck in a place like this.
If only I could get transferred to the Grand Cathedral in the capital...
"Nechard."
The old priest’s sudden voice made the young acolyte jolt upright.
"Yes, Father."
"In the presence of the gods, remember to remain humble and reverent."
"..."
So he noticed I was spacing out.
The young acolyte lowered his head awkwardly.
"I’m sorry, Father."
"It’s all right," the old priest said gently. "Knowing your mistake and correcting it is a good quality to have. I’m sure the Holy One would forgive you."
The Holy One...
The young acolyte looked back at the statue.
He stared at it for a while, and before he knew it, the question that had been sitting in the back of his mind slipped out.
"Do you really think the gods still come down to this world?"
The old priest’s gaze darkened a little.
He stayed silent for a long time.
Then at last, he spoke, his voice slow and firm.
"I have always believed they will."
"Just as that Holy One once brought dawn to this world, drove away the darkness that smothered the land, healed wounded bodies and weary hearts, and let us live beneath divine light in lasting peace and safety..."
"I believe the day of that Holy One’s return will come."
Just then, the church bells began to ring.
The old priest folded his hands together and slowly closed his eyes.
"It’s time. Let us offer our prayers to the Holy One."
"Yes, Father."
The young acolyte closed his eyes as well and clasped his hands together.
Inside the quiet, timeworn church, their long, steady prayers gradually filled the air.
...
When the church bells rang across Mente and reached the Hayeral estate, the Hayeral family did not stop what they were doing to pray, not like they usually did.
At that moment, Razelian Hayeral, the head of House Hayeral, was pacing anxiously back and forth in the courtyard.
"Isn’t it done yet? Isn’t it done yet...?"
Watching his father pace in circles while muttering to himself, Reid could only shake his head.
"Father, can you stop walking back and forth in front of me? This isn’t exactly your first time."
Razelian stopped on the spot, grabbed Reid by the shoulders, and shook him hard.
"I know. Of course I know. But I’m worried! Lilia, Lilia, she..."
Reid could only complain to himself in silence.
Our old man is such a pain.
Then, right at that moment, a loud newborn cry rang out from inside the house.
Razelian’s eyes lit up instantly. He flung Reid’s shoulders aside and rushed toward the door, and Reid jumped to his feet at once.
"Wait, Father, you can’t go in yet..."
"Sir, you can’t come in right now. Please step outside."
"Come on, just let me see my child. Is it a boy or a girl? How’s Lilia?"
"Please leave at once."
"Ah..."
Listening to the chaos inside the room, Reid pressed a hand to his forehead.
Our father really is something else.
On the Day of Rest, Sunday, July 7th, 777 of the New Divine Calendar, in Mente of the Passara Empire, the seventh daughter of House Hayeral, a hereditary knightly house, was born into the world.
Her name was Shulim Hayeral.
...
"Heave-ho, heave-ho..."
Inside the Hayeral family’s storage room, seven-year-old Shulim was shaving down a stick with a small knife.
Not long after, she held the finished stick high over her head, her young eyes sparkling.
"Done!"
"My magic wand!"
She swung the stick around and struck a few poses like she meant business.
"Ha. Hah. Magic bolt."
Then she tossed the knife aside and headed for the door.
As she passed through the yard, she saw Razelian sparring with Reid and Amon using wooden swords.
"Too slow. Your swings are way too slow, this is embarrassing. What have you two even been doing all this time? I can barely stand to watch. Are you really sons of House Hayeral?"
Shulim didn’t think the scene was strange in the slightest.
Ever since she could remember, her father had always been "beating up" her brothers like this, so to her, it just looked like a normal way of communicating.
As she passed by them, she gave a polite little greeting.
"Father, Reid, Amon."
"Oh, Shulim. Heading out? Don’t go too far."
Razelian turned at the sound of her voice, and the moment he saw his youngest daughter, his face immediately softened.
"Okay, Father. I’m heading out."
"All right. Be careful."
He watched his little daughter skip away, humming to herself and waving the stick around, and he kept staring long after she was gone.
"Hey, come on, old man. That kind of favoritism is just cruel. Why are you so gentle with Shulim when all you do is yell at us?" Reid complained.
"Yeah, exactly," Amon said between ragged breaths.
Razelian’s eyes narrowed as he turned back around.
"What did you just say?"
Thunk. Thunk.
Two dull smacks later, Reid and Amon were on the ground clutching their heads and rolling around in pain.
Razelian pointed his wooden sword at them and roared, "You two idiots still have the nerve to complain? Starting today, both of you are doubling your training every single day."
"No way!"
The brothers’ miserable howl echoed through the courtyard.
...
"Little witch, little witch, the strongest little witch, beat down every evil thing..."
Deep in the forest by the southern mines outside Mente, sunlight filtered through the sparse treetops and scattered broken patches of light along the woodland path.
Shulim hummed her completely off-key made-up song as she made her way deeper into the forest.
As the youngest daughter, she was doted on by her parents and all her older siblings, and everyone saw her as the sweet, well-behaved little girl of the family.
But at heart, Shulim was anything but quiet and obedient.
Like right now, the secret playground she was heading toward was somewhere none of the adults in town would step into lightly.
If her parents ever found out that her idea of not going too far and their idea of it were wildly different, she would probably be grounded on the spot.
Whether she had simply forgotten to mention it, or some instinct deep down told her it was a bad idea, Shulim had never once told anyone where she actually went when she slipped out alone.
"La la, la la..."
She reached the heart of the forest, pushed through a patch of bushes, and suddenly the view opened up before her.
A small lake lay there.
The water was crystal clear and perfectly still, glimmering softly beneath the sun.
"Heave-ho."
Shulim climbed onto a large rock by the lakeshore.
She pointed her stick at the water.
"The great witch Shulim has arrived."
The forest stayed completely silent.
She held the pose for about three seconds and did not feel the slightest bit embarrassed.
Then she slowly lowered the stick and nodded to herself.
"You’re hiding pretty well, monster. Even after hearing the name of the great witch Shulim, you still won’t show yourself. Not bad."
A second later, she swung the stick forward with sudden force.
"Magic bolt."
A gentle breeze skimmed across the lake, stirring a few ripples.
The forest remained silent.
So, the magic bolt didn’t fire.
"Oh, smarter than I expected, monster. You saw through my fake attack. I’ll give you credit for that, but..."
Shulim raised the stick high, and her expression suddenly turned serious.
"Now I’m really getting serious."
"Magic bolt!"
A huge splash burst across the lake, shattering the calm surface.
Shulim lifted her chin proudly.
"That was the great witch’s magic bolt. Well? Scared now, monster?"
Meanwhile, the fingers of her right hand quietly slipped behind her back, still holding the pebble she had just thrown.
The ripples on the lake quickly faded.
"Oh? You stayed steady even after taking a direct hit from my magic bolt? I underestimated you. But that’s not all I can do. Take this, monster!"
Shulim bent down, scooped up another pebble, and threw it toward the invisible "monster" as she swung her stick.
Splash.
Splash.
Splash...
Ripples spread across the lake one after another.
A while later, tired from playing, Shulim flopped onto the rock.
"Now that was a good fight."
She propped herself up with one arm and looked out over the lake.
"You’re a strong monster. We’ll settle this next time."
As she spoke, she casually picked up one more pebble and tossed it toward the water.
At the time, Shulim had no idea that this single stone would lead her to the encounter that would change the course of her life.
Splash.
The pebble struck the lake and sent up a small spray, just like all the others before it.
And then, the gears of fate began to turn.