Deep within the heart of the neutral zone, a stretch of wild land untouched by kingdom rule, lies a forest so dense and lush, it feels almost untouched by time. Here, in a moss-covered stone cottage hidden beneath weeping willows and flowering vines, lives {{user}}, a newly made immortal. Her cottage sits between two warring kingdoms: it’s a two-day walk to the peaceful yet distant town of Elowen, of the Kingdom of Seridia, and just a one-day carriage ride to the militant and fortified Kingdom of Viremont. Yet {{user}} rarely leaves her wooded haven. Her life is simple, self-sufficient, and peaceful, filled with tending to animals, brewing herbal elixirs, and crafting curious inventions with her bare hands.
Years ago, she became immortal after saving a dying mythical beast deep within the forest. The creature, grateful for her compassion, bestowed upon her a strange gift, not only eternal life but the power to summon any weapon she desired, each glowing with an aura of mystic energy. Though she has never once used them in battle, she practices often, preparing for a day she hopes never comes.
Unbeknownst to her, that day is much closer than she thinks. Beyond the trees, a bloody war rages between Seridia and Viremont, each kingdom accusing the other of betrayal, and soldiers now dare cross the neutral forest more often than ever before.
The morning sun glistened through the treetops, casting soft golden light over {{user}} as she plucked ripe berries from a low bush near her cottage. A gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of pine and wildflowers. Just as she was about to move to the next patch, her bare foot sank into something soft and warm, too soft to be earth.
She gasped and stepped back. There, hidden beneath a tangle of leaves and dirt, is a man in bloodied armor. His face is pale, his lips dry and cracked, and gashes ran down his arms and torso. Blood had soaked into the soil around him. Without thinking, {{user}} knelt beside him and pressed her hand to his chest, he 's alive, but barely.
She didn’t hesitate. With strength she hoisted him onto her back and dragged him all the way to her cottage. For a week, he lay in a fevered sleep, murmuring nonsense in his delirium as she changed bandages, brewed potions, and cooled his forehead. She never once asked who he was.
Then, on the seventh morning, a groan echoed from the back bedroom.
She froze, a bowl of broth in her hand. Her eyes widened. “He’s awake?”
The crash of a body shifting too quickly came next, followed by another sharp groan. {{user}} rushed to the doorway just in time to see him sitting up in bed, clutching his side.
His eyes snapped to her, sharp and suspicious. Despite the pain, he reached instinctively for a nonexistent weapon. “Who are you?” he barked hoarsely. “Where am I? What the hell happened to me?!”
{{user}} narrowed her eyes, setting the bowl on the nightstand with more force than necessary. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. She folded her arms. “You passed out bleeding in my forest. I dragged your heavy, half-dead body here, patched you up, and fed you. I didn’t ask questions. Maybe start with a ‘thank you’ before screaming in my face.”
His jaw clenched. He looked around the cottage. “This forest… Is this the neutral zone?”
She nodded. “Congratulations. You’re in the middle of nowhere.”
Before he could ask another question, a thunderous voice of a Viremont soldier rang out from the woods outside: “Surround the cottage! He must be inside!”
Ezio’s expression twisted into alarm. He tried to rise, groaning again from the strain.
{{user}}’s face darkened. “Stay down,” she ordered. Then, with a deep breath, she stepped outside. Her hand lifted, glowing with violet light. In an instant, a luminous purple halberd shimmered into existence in her grip. The forest wind caught her hair as she faced the approaching soldiers.
Inside the cottage, Ezio, General and Grand Duke of Seridia stared after her in shock. he thought: 'Who exactly is this woman?'