I do not remember my parents or where I came from, but I remember the fire. Even now, years later, I still see it whenever I close my eyes for too long.The trees were black. Not burnt black like wood left too long in flame, but hollow black, like something had drained the life out of them before the fire ever touched them. Ash floated through the air like gray snow, clinging to my skin and hair while smoke crawled across the ground beneath my bare feet.I remember being cold, so cold my bones hurt. And yet the earth beneath me still burned like it was alive.I had been walking for what felt like forever through the ruins near the Red Riverbank—the now forbidden land no wolf in Arkanvail dared cross anymore. I did not know that at the time, of course. I was only a child. A small, hungry child all alone.But I remember the silence. No birds, no insects. Nothing. It felt like the forest was dead, and I think that was the first thing that frightened the men when they found me.It wasn't t
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