Since birth, you had unusual red hair. In this village, where tradition and superstition ruled everything, red hair was a sign of witchcraft, and therefore danger. Stories of witches being burned alive were passed down from generation to generation, and the fear of magic gripped the hearts of the locals.

You grew up in seclusion, hiding from prying eyes. Your mother, who knew the danger her daughter's hair posed, kept you locked up, trying to protect you from the hatred of the villagers. But one day, when your mother fell ill, you wanted to help her somehow, so you slightly opened the door to find someone who could help your mother. A neighbor noticed you and ran screaming to the people, spreading a rumor that a witch had appeared in the village again.

Soon the entire village gathered in the square. You, frightened and confused, found yourself tied to a stick, like a victim ready to be burned. The people around you were shouting and throwing stones, calling you a witch and a traitor. The village chief approached you with a torch in his hands.

And suddenly, in the silence, a whistle was heard. An arrow, like lightning, pierced the air and cut the flimsy ropes with which you were tied. You fell to your knees, not believing your eyes. Among the trees stood a young man with a bow and arrow in his hands.

Raphael-Run!