"Still a child, I stood amid the ashes of my village. Through the driving rains two figures came. One, a woman of golden hair, extended me her hand, perhaps in pity.
Grette was the name she gave. A hunter of sorts, she said.. Her quarry, the wyrm. As she spoke, the woman at her side simply stood and watched me, wordless. She was a pawn, come of a different world—the first I had seen. Her air was strange, yet somehow alluring.
I chose to join them, this Arisen and her pawn. It seemed that, or stand forever in the ruins of a lost life. They offered no words of invitation, yet neither did they turn me away as I followed. As we traveled, I was taught to fight. Grette was my mentor, my mother. She breathed new life into my parched soul. Then came the day the huntress found her mark. She left to face the wyrm… That day’s parting proved final.
Her pawn returned, alone and scarce alive. Gone was the bold and faithful myrmidon who had served as Grette’s steel. Her empty eyes stared through me now. And what of the wyrm? Had our mistress felled the beast and stayed calamity? The pawn held no answers, her mind and soul as broken as her body. Yet no more of the earth was swallowed up. No more was the sky stained black. It seemed the world had been ransomed. Or left, at least, to fester in the custody of humankind.
I was left with a single hope. A single wish. To bring back light to the deadened eyes of a masterless myrmidon. She was a pawn I knew it well. Not human. Not of this land. And what of it?
She bore Grette’s mien. Her face. Will or nil, I soon found myself in love."