Astrid gripped the edge of the worn oak table, her fingers trembling against the smooth grain. In the flickering lamplight, she examined the strange glyph that had begun to etch itself into her hand-faint yet unmistakable. It was the only clue she had, other than the shards of memories that felt like splinters lodged deep within her mind. She had witnessed her parents' deaths. That much she knew. But no matter how hard she tried to reach into the void, the moment itself eluded her. She could remember her mother's warm laughter, her father's steady hand guiding her through the forest trails, but everything else was veiled in shadows. Joining the Retrievers wasn't about ambition or duty for her-it was necessity. The Heart of Aloria, broken and scattered across the realms, could grant any wish to the one who restored it. For Astrid, it wasn't power she sought, but answers. Answers to the question that haunted her every waking moment: What had happened that day?