In the small village called Petcrest, little Emily was seen in the stream playing with her long hair.
"Theodora, Emily, let's go home. It's getting late," Theodora said.
"No, I don't want to go home. Let's play a little," Emily replied.
"But you know it's not safe for us," said the 5-year-old child. A 4-year-old girl ought not to be on their own by this time.
Theodora said sadly, "But I want to play." Emily smiled and said, "Oh, just a little."
"Okay," Theodora replied.
Emily was a 5-year-old girl with ocean eyes and silver hair with milk color skin,while Theodora was a lady with black hair and blue eyes with chocolate skin. It was said in the village that even with Emily's distinct features, Theodora was more pretty than her.
"Emily! Theodora!" Sarah called repeatedly.
Emily and Theodora stood up from the sand they were making in the stream.
"Mama!" Little Emily hurried to hug her mother, while Theodora followed from behind.
Sarah bent down to hug Emily and Theodora with a smile. Then her face jolted.
"Theodora, how many times have I told you to always leave the stream early?"
"But Mama, it's not my fault! It's Emi—"
"But you are the older one, and you are supposed to be the one to control Emily," Sarah cut her short.
"But Mama…" Theodora tried to complain, but Sarah cut her short again.
"This should be the last time."
Then Sarah's eyes softened and her smile returned. "How was your day, girls?"
"It was fine," they both replied as they were heading home.
As the trio were heading home, they received all kinds of greetings from the villagers.
"Sarah, your girls are growing beautifully," Mr. Hardwood said.
"Thank you, Mr. Hardwood."
Emily ran from her mother's side and ran to meet Mr. Hardwood with anticipation in her eyes.
"Mister Hardwood!" Emily's small voice echoed.
"Yes, Emily?" Mr. Hardwood replied.
"What are you making today?" she asked, waving her hands around the box.
"As curious as always," Mr. Hardwood said with a smile on his face.
Sarah and Theodora also smiled. Mr. Hardwood is a capenter ....wat is it used for Emily asked
"It's used for saving money," said Mr. Hardwood, his wrinkled face creasing into a warm smile. He was hammering a small wooden box outside his workshop.
"Save what?" Emily asked, tilting her head, her big brown eyes filled with curiosity.
"Money," he chuckled.
"What is it made of—"
"That's enough questions, Emily," Sarah interrupted gently, taking her daughter's hand. "Don't bother Mr. Hardwood. Let him finish his work."
"It's quite alright, Sarah," he replied, chuckling. "She's just curious. I didn't complain."
Sarah smiled faintly. "I know you didn't, but it's getting late. We should start heading home."
Mr. Hardwood nodded. "Safe journey, then."
The three of them—Sarah and her daughters, Theodora and Emily—walked down the dirt path toward their cottage at the edge of the village. Crickets had begun to sing, and lanterns flickered to life in distant windows.
When they arrived home, Emily kicked off her slippers and ran straight to the sitting room. Theodora followed her mother into the kitchen, where Sarah was already sorting through a basket of vegetables.
"Mama, what are we having for dinner?" Theodora asked, peering at the table.
"I'm thinking… maybe some pie," Sarah replied thoughtfully, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"Can I help you?" Theodora's eyes sparkled with excitement.
Sarah hesitated. "Not tonight, dear. Go and stay with Emily. You know how restless she can be."
Theodora sighed. "But I want to learn."
"Later, Theodora," Sarah said softly, turning back to her ingredients.
Theodora trudged out of the kitchen, shoulders slumped. As soon as she left, Sarah released a long, tired breath. She glanced around to make sure she was alone, then reached for a small bottle of dark liquid hidden behind a jar of flour.
Her hands trembled slightly as she unsealed the cork.
"Just a little…" she whispered.
She poured a few drops into one of the pies, watching the liquid swirl and vanish into the crust. When she was done, she sealed the bottle and tucked it away in the cupboard—far from sight.
"Girls! Dinner is ready!" she called.
Emily came running, eyes bright and hungry. "Mama's the best!" she said, already reaching for her plate.
Theodora followed quietly, her face still clouded with disappointment.
"Theodora," Sarah said gently, "don't be upset, my dear. I didn't let you help because the kitchen can be dangerous."
"But you're always there. You can protect me," Theodora murmured.
"No, child. Your skin is too soft for the heat," Sarah replied with a small laugh.
"You always say that, Mama," Theodora pouted.
"Alright, next time I'll let you join me," Sarah promised with a smile.
That brought a shy grin to Theodora's face. Emily, already halfway through her pie, mumbled through a mouthful, "This is sooo good!"
When dinner was done, the girls cleared the table and washed the dishes together, chatting and laughing.
"Emily," Theodora asked, "don't you want to learn to cook too?"
"I do," Emily said. "But Mama never lets me."
"That's the problem," Theodora sighed. "She cooks all the good food but doesn't teach us how."
Emily shrugged. "She promised to teach you next time."
"She always says that," Theodora muttered, but she smiled anyway.
After cleaning up, the girls joined their mother in the sitting room. Sarah told them a short story—an old legend of Petrest—and soon the girls' laughter filled the house again.
Later that night, the cottage fell silent. The girls slept peacefully in their room while Sarah sat by the window, staring into the dark forest beyond the village. Her face was pale, her eyes distant.
Outside, the moon was hidden behind clouds. A strange mist began to creep through the streets, swallowing the lamplight one by one.
In the distance, figures cloaked in black emerged from the fog. Their faces were hidden, their steps silent.
"It begins tonight," one of them whispered, his voice like wind through dry leaves.
"The time has come to reclaim Petrest—for the Forbidden One is here
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