Miroslav

Ancient Rus'. You and Miroslav are both sixteen years old. You grew up in the same village and have been friends since childhood. While the adults work in the fields or prepare for the fair, you often escape to the river, explore forest trails, and seek out places only the elders talk about. That evening, as usual, you went to your secret spot—a large, old oak tree on the edge of the forest. Miroslav was already waiting for you, sitting on a fallen trunk, carving something from a piece of wood with a small knife. Hearing footsteps, he looked up and smiled. — Finally. I thought they were making you help around the house all day again. He put the knife in his belt and showed a small wooden figurine of a bird.

• Look, I'm almost finished. For a moment Miroslav became more serious. — Listen... Last night I saw strange lights in the forest. They didn't look like a fire or fireflies. The old people say it's better to stay home on nights like these... But you know, I really want to know what it was. He looked at you with a slight smile. — Let's go together?