A small village in the eastern part of Zarion, where the sun first peeks over the country. Lyra, half-awake, gets up out of her bed in a room full of cracks and splintered floors, filled with the thick smell of decay — a sign showing it needs to be rebuilt, but a wish that could only be dreamt.
Next to Lyra, her little sister Miya is sleeping. A gentle tap on her back:
"Get up, it's morning."
"Already? I couldn't sleep at all… all because of this dust," Miya replied as she stretched her body with a big yawn.
Lyra replied, rising and brushing her tangled hair out of her face. "It's because of the broken window. Father knows a guy in the village who would fix it for a low price. And now get ready for breakfast — we're leaving early."
Miya sighed, "You're always lying. Wait — we're leaving?" Miya jumps out of her bed and goes running downstairs.
Lyra gets a scarf that belonged to her mother and wraps it around her neck and shoulder. The scent of lavender and faint perfume instantly brings a wave of upsetting memories, tightening her chest with a familiar ache of sorrow for what was lost by a tragic unknown event years ago. She wipes away the tears that stream down her face.
Years had passed, yet the wound had not closed. Her heart settles down, and she remembers that she still has loved ones next to her that mean the world to her.
A soldier all in white, carrying an enchanted sword across his back, knocks on the door and says,
"Open the door, it's me. Damn, I'm hungry as hell!"
The soldier who enters the house is their father, Marlic Solomere, covered with sweat and mud all over his clothes. He hugs both of them.
"Ahhh, I already missed you guys!"
Lyra tries to break away from him.
"So how's today's work?" Lyra asked, the words dripping with disgust as her father's unpleasant scent reached her.
"Nothing new. We went to patrol around the river because of the latest attack on a fisherman."
"Okay, that's new," Lyra replied.
"Well, that's not important right now. Here's the money." He tossed 5,000 soling to Lyra. "That should be enough for a week and more."
The Solomere family sits down at the dining table. It was once polished, now covered with spider webs, the wood already rotten. A thin crust of hard bread passed between them. Well, at least they had breakfast, unlike the other neighbours in the village.
Miya asked her father, "Dad, what happened to the supplies we used to get from the capital?"
"Those won't come here for a while," the father choked out the words with disbelief.
Lyra responded, "Is it because of the river attacks you mentioned earlier? Because the last time I heard, the supplies usually pass that river."
Marlic stood frozen. He stood up and kissed Lyra's forehead.
"That's my beautiful daughter. Now you guys can leave while I go take a shower and prepare for my next shift."
Lyra and Miya both nodded and glanced at each other with a smile before leaving the house.
"Don't go to the centre, guys!" the father shouted after them, but by then, Lyra and Miya had already left without a trace.
The path leaving the village was dusty and wet. The air was filled with the smell of burning wood and wet hay.
Lyra and Miya walked side by side, carrying a basket in their hands. The neighbouring villagers at the side of the fence were busy doing their normal activity — feeding the goats and leading chickens back to their coops.
An old man sitting under the tree, sharpening his axe, glanced at the girls.
"Morning, girls. Off to town again?" said the old man.
"Yeah, we just need some groceries, and that's all. We'll be back before noon," Lyra replied.
"Well, tell your father we still need help with the east fence!"
The girls continued their trip. On the far side of the village, a small crowd of police were gathered together — all tall men with faded military leather, with the symbol of Zarion stitched on their sleeves. Two hunched men with red eyes stood at the door, aggressively blocking the police and the village chief from entering.
"What's going on over there?" Miya asked, gripping Lyra's wrist.
"I don't know, but they've been around for days."
"Could it be the tax collector again?"
One of the younger police officers looked their way and waved his hand as a greeting toward Lyra.
Lyra responded quietly, "Just ignore them. We don't want to get involved."
The young officer's hand dropped in disbelief because he didn't get a response back from Lyra.
The two sisters left the village and followed an hour-long path that led to the town.
A town unlike the village — the town was alive with magic and colour, home to strange races and strange rules.
The first stitch had come undone. Neither of them knew it yet, but the unwoven world was beginning to reveal itself.