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On a peaceful morning in St. Elda town, Mary gently rocked the cradle in which her daughter, Emily, lay. The eyes of this little life sparkled with a unique light, like the depths of the starry sky.
Mary felt a slight unease, not just as a mother's intuition, but more like a premonition.
John walked into the room, his eyes filled with love and concern. " Mary, are you okay?" he asked softly, walking to his wife's side and gently stroking Emily's silver hair.
Mary looked up, smiling in response. "I'm fine, just a little tired. But I'm worried about Emily, she's just so unique."
John gently took Mary's hand and comforted her, saying, "Every child is unique, and Emily is no exception. Regardless, she is our precious baby."
At that moment, the door of the room was gently knocked. A mysterious figure in a long robe appeared at the doorway, with deep and enigmatic eyes. Both Mary and John felt amazed and cautious.
"Please forgive my intrusion," the mysterious figure spoke, his voice deep and charismatic, "I am a priest from a distant land, and I have important news to tell you."
Mary and John exchanged a glance, then John asked, "Who are you? What do you want to tell us?"
The prophet smiled slightly, his gaze falling on Emily in the cradle. "I am Father Mit-Ann, and I am here because of your daughter, Emily. She is no ordinary child; she is a chosen saint."
Mary looked amazed and puzzled. "A saint? What does that mean? Our Emily is just a regular child."
Father Mit-Ann's eyes became even deeper as he walked slowly towards the cradle, seemingly observing Emily carefully. He spoke softly, "It is recorded in ancient prophecies that when the demon awakens and shrouds the earth, a saint with extraordinary power will appear. She will represent a decisive battle between light and darkness, sometimes the saint will win, and sometimes the demon will win."
John frowned, looking somewhat skeptical. "This sounds like a fairy tale. How can we believe all of this?"
Father Mit-Ann turned around to face John and Mary. "I know this is hard to believe, but Emily's birth was not a coincidence. The timing of her birth aligns with the ancient prophecy."
A hint of fear flashed in Mary's eyes. "If all of this is true, then what will happen to Emily in the future? Will she be safe?"
Father Mit-Ann's eyes became more serious as he gazed at Mary and John. "It's not safe now. You must leave this village immediately before tonight. I sense an ominous presence, and soon a disaster, a massacre, will occur here."
John's face turned pale. "A massacre? Are you saying this village will be attacked?"
"Yes," Father Mit-Ann nodded, "I cannot confirm the specific time and form, but danger is approaching. You must take Emily and find a safe place."
Mary hugged Emily tightly, her eyes filled with worry. "But where do we go? We have no relatives or friends to rely on."
Father Mit-Ann took out a delicate map from his robe and unfolded it in front of them. "Here is a hidden shelter, located in the distant north. It is a land untouched by the forces of darkness, where you can find refuge."
John took the map, his eyes filled with determination. "We will depart immediately. No matter how treacherous the journey, we will protect Emily."
Father Mit-Ann nodded, his eyes revealing a hint of concern. "During your journey, you must be vigilant at all times. The forces of darkness will relentlessly pursue Emily. You must be careful."
Mary held Emily tightly, her eyes shining with a mother's determination. "No matter what lies ahead, we will protect our daughter."
Father Mit-Ann nodded gently and then turned and left the room. His figure disappeared at the doorway as if he had never appeared.
Mary and John began busily packing their bags, preparing for this unknown journey. For the safety of their beloved daughter, Emily, it was all worth it.
Under the nightfall in St. Elda town, a cold and gloomy atmosphere slowly spreads.
Enot, draped in a black robe, led a group of similarly dressed Warlocks as they strode confidently into the small town. Their appearance was like that of a pack of hungry wolves, silently surrounding the slumbering town.
The night sky over the town should have been peaceful, but tonight it was shattered by sudden panic. Enot raised the long sword in his hand, its tip gleaming with a cold light. His gaze was indifferent and resolute, as if he had already seen through all the joys and sorrows of the world.
"Remember, Lord Nicholas's orders: leave no one alive, only spare the children," Enot's voice was low and ruthless, devoid of any emotional fluctuation.
The night was dark as ink, with only the moonlight illuminating the cold and merciless faces of the Warlocks. Their long swords and wands glinted in the moonlight, like envoys of death, ready to reap lives.
The residents of the town were awakened by a sudden attack, with screams and cries echoing in the night sky. However, Enot and Warlock remained unfazed, their hearts already consumed by darkness.
"Run!" a middle-aged man shouted loudly, leading his family to flee into the distance. But Enot coldly waved his wand, and a black beam of light shot out, directly hitting the fleeing man and knocking him to the ground.
"Please... please spare me!" The man pleaded, his eyes filled with fear and despair.
Enot looked at him coldly, showing no mercy in his eyes. "I cannot disobey the orders of my master," he said, before waving his wand again and completely obliterating the man.
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