Levy McGarden

Prologue

Edited: February 16, 2020

A village, two days west of the edge of Fiore, burned, bright and almost unnoticed in its isolation. Smoke drafted through the mountain air. Children cried for the loss of their parents, mothers screamed for their babies, and people called for their friends and family.

A young girl, no older than seven and small for her age, stumbled across a field through her tears. Her goal was the gentle lake she knew was hidden and surrounded by a good ten feet of rocks. She knew she would be safe there.

She was old enough to know what death was. She was old enough to know what it meant for her. But she was smart enough to know that none of that would matter if she died. She didn't want to die. Her Mom and Dad didn't want her to die. So she was going to make sure she didn't.

She stood at the edge where water met rock and waited, ready to jump in if the fire got too close. The field caught fire and she backed up a bit closer to the water.

She had run out of the house barefoot and noted absently how the water felt good on her scratched up feet. Her blue hair was tangled with twigs and long grass and fell in her eyes, as always. Her long, flowing white dress was ruined with dirt and ash.

The grass closest to her flamed. She retreated into the water until she was wading at waist level. The fire spread around the lake and the child followed it with her eyes.

Something, no someone, was on the other side, crouched low in the flames.

Their form was covered in a long, dark cloak, and their hair covered their back. Blue eyes met brown.

The figure stood, shrugging off the flames and, now that they were standing, she could clearly tell the figure was a male.

He walked towards the water and somehow the girl knew that he was far more powerful than the fire. For some reason, she wasn't afraid.

He stopped, a foot or two in front of her. The water didn't even reach his knees. He towered over her.

He reached down and swiped her bangs up, keeping them above her forehead, and met her eyes.

"What's your name?" He asked, his voice a deep rumble.

"Levy McGarden." The noises of the burning village died down, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The man removed his hand from her hair.

He hummed to himself. "You'll do."