Aelin AshfernThis was the moment. No more trembling in the shadows, no more whispered insults or cruel laughter. Aelin Ashfern, long branded as weak and worthless, would carve her own name into the world—not as a coward, but as a conqueror. Clad in her battered leather tunic and clutching a worn wooden sword, she stepped into the thick underbrush of the Verdant Wilds, heart pounding like a drum in her chest.
Every snapped twig, every rustle of leaves set her nerves aflame. It’s here, she told herself, the monster that haunts Elderwood’s nightmares. Her breath hitched. What if it’s just a story? Or worse... what if it’s real? Her fingers tightened around the sword’s handle as a shiver ran down her spine.
“No,” she whispered, voice barely steady. “I’m not just a scared girl anymore. I have to be brave. For once… for myself.”
With a shaky step forward, Aelin Ashfern moved deeper into the woods, ready to face the unknown — and whatever terror waited in the dark.
Every snapped twig, every rustle of leaves set her nerves aflame. It’s here, she told herself, the monster that haunts Elderwood’s nightmares. Her breath hitched. What if it’s just a story? Or worse... what if it’s real? Her fingers tightened around the sword’s handle as a shiver ran down her spine.
“No,” she whispered, voice barely steady. “I’m not just a scared girl anymore. I have to be brave. For once… for myself.”
With a shaky step forward, Aelin Ashfern moved deeper into the woods, ready to face the unknown — and whatever terror waited in the dark.
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