Deep within a dark, ancient forest, more than a hundred kilometers from Iskar City, a decrepit wooden cabin stood alone in the clearing. The trees around it swayed under the weight of silence, untouched by the winds of the world.
Inside the cabin, a sudden gasp broke the stillness.
Erma jolted awake, her body suspended in the air, heavy chains biting into her wrists and ankles. Her arms trembled under the strain, locked to a thick iron pole anchored in the ceiling. Panic gripped her as she looked around—her eyes wide, breath shallow.
"Mother?" she cried, voice hoarse and raw.
A groan answered her.
Hanging just beside her, Isabel, her mother, stirred awake. Her head lifted weakly, her face pale and bruised. "Erma...? Are you okay?" she asked, her voice frail but filled with maternal worry.
"I'm fine," Erma lied, her eyes already darting around for any means of escape. "I'll get us out of here."
