The Last Druid’s Reckoning

The Last Hidden Grove

For as long as she could remember, Seraphina had lived in hiding. Her earliest memories were not of sunlit forests or open fields, but of whispered warnings, hurried footsteps in the dark, and the scent of smoke from fallen covens.

She had never known a true home.

Her mother, Yara, had carried her through endless nights of escape, through dense woods and frozen rivers, moving faster than fear. Yara never spoke of where they were going, only of where they could not stay.

"We are meant to fight," Yara had once murmured, cradling Seraphina close beneath the stars. Brushing her silver hair that shimmers like the night sky from her eyes. She noticed that her hair is not only different from her mother, but also from every other druid or witch they ever met. She wondered if her father had silver hair like her, but she never dared ask her mother, the sadness in her eyes told Seraphina' all she needed to know, her father fought bravely for this war. Seraphina's clothing was a simple gray tunic but her mothers was adorned with symbols and patterns of constellations reflecting the Druid affinity with the Stars. Yara' bright green eyes glanced gently at her daughter's, the one feature they share, she wispered "But not today. Today, we survive."

And so they ran.

From coven to coven, always leaving before the dawn could betray them.

Then came the Hidden Grove, the last stronghold of the druids. Here, Seraphina stayed the longest, five whole years. Here, she felt safe, if only for a breif moment.