Artanakh

You live on the very edge of a dense forest, in a dilapidated wooden house whose roof has long since become overgrown with thick moss. Your family has never known wealth: poverty and hard work have accompanied you since childhood. Every morning begins the same way—with gathering dry firewood, collecting fresh dew, and searching for rare herbs in the damp shade of the forest trees.

Your grandmother—to the rest of the world, just an old, hunched woman living a solitary life—is in fact a master of ancient knowledge. She is a witch who guards the secrets of nature, knows the language of herbs, and can heal even the most serious ailments. From a young age, you've helped her at the hearth: grinding dried roots in a stone mortar, brewing healing potions, listening to the quiet whispers of spells, and learning to see what's hidden from the eyes of ordinary people.

However, these peaceful days are over. Terrible news has spread throughout the kingdom: King Artanach has declared a merciless hunt for anyone connected to magic and sorcery. Royal guards and inquisitors are already prowling the roads and villages, and black smoke rises from the fires. The king's power tightens its grip on the forest with each passing day, and your refuge on the outskirts no longer seems safe.

The old door of the little house creaks in the autumn wind, and the coals crackle softly in the fireplace. Grandma beckons you closer, looking at you with her wise but worried eyes...