I was only fourteen years old the day my whole world fell apart. It was the day I learned that the world wasn't the warm and happy place I believed it to be. It was the day I lost everything. 

No, not the day I lost everything. It was the day everything was taken from me. The day I first saw what cruelty and evil truly looked like; the day my father's knights found me. It was on that day that I lost my ability to speak. It wasn't until many years later, long after I'd given up on things like hope and happiness, that I found the will to regain my voice. 

I'd grown up in a small town in the east of the Kingdom of Vrayna, near the border with the Beastlands. My mother earned money by washing and mending clothes, working from sunrise to sunset to ensure that I never went hungry. 

I spent my days playing by the river, tending our small vegetable garden, and earning copper coins by running small errands for the townsfolk. If I never knew luxury, I never lacked for anything either. I had a full belly and I was loved. 

On the day they came for us, it was an unusually hot day in the middle of summer, nearing the end of the seventh moon cycle. I was on my way home with three copper coins in my pocket, having just finished a very profitable afternoon of shoveling horse dung at the local stable. 

It was hard work, and I reeked of sweat and dung, but earning a copper for every movement of the sun that I worked gave me a great sense of pride. Usually, I could only manage to earn three coppers in a whole week. Three coppers was enough to buy us rice or flour for days, or perhaps even some meat.

It was early evening when I began making my way back to our humble home at the edge of the forest. The sky had just begun to turn a gentle shade of orange and there was a gentle breeze blowing, just enough to offer some relief from the day's heat. With the sun hidden by distant trees, the walk home was bearable compared to the movements I'd spent working in the heat. 

The stable had a thatched roof to protect the horses from the elements, so the sun hadn’t burnt my skin, but I was sticky and sore from the afternoon's work and my body was still radiating residual heat. I smelled particularly awful as well, so I decided to make a detour to the river to wash off the worst of the dirt and sweat from my body. Copper coins or no, it was likely that I would be scolded if I returned home in such a state. 

The cold water felt pleasant on my sweaty, hot skin, and I used some sand and small stones to scrape the dust and dung off my body. I took off my shirt, wet it, and wrung it out several times until the water ran clean. By the time I was done, it was late enough that the sky had taken on a hue that resembled the embers of a dying fire, the last few moments before twilight officially came. It was around the time that my mother usually finished cooking dinner. I hadn't eaten since morning, and my stomach grumbled in protest after the day's hard work. 

I pulled my wet shirt back on and shivered slightly from the cold. Ah, I thought, that feels much better. The chilling sensation of the cold and wet shirt against my skin was a pleasant contrast to the constant heat that pervaded the summer months. Hungry and energized, I decided to run the rest of the way home.

I was a few minutes from home when I realized that something was wrong. The path that lead to our house was surrounded by trees, and no matter what time of day it was, you could always hear the chirping of birds, the snapping of branches, and the rustling of forest creatures moving about. But tonight, the ever noisy forest was eerily silent. 

I stopped running and stood still for a moment to catch my breath and listen to the forest. Other than the sound of my light panting, there wasn't a single noise to be heard. The trees that lined the path, which usually felt like they were guiding me home, felt ominous, like they were warning me to turn back.    

However, an impending sense of dread was building inside me. Instead of turning back, I picked up the pace and raced toward my house.  As I ran, it felt like eyes were watching me from the trees. Dark eyes, angry eyes, eyes that wanted to harm me. I did my best to ignore that feeling and hurried home to my mother.