Rayna remembered the warmth of her mother's hand, calloused but gentle, as it brushed through her tangled brown hair. They sat by the crackling hearth in their small cottage nestled at the edge of Oakhaven, the scent of woodsmoke and simmering herbs a comforting constant in her young life. Her mother, Lyra, often told her stories in the fading light, tales of brave knights and mischievous sprites, but Rayna's favorite was the legend of the Sunstone Goddess and the single drop of divine sunlight. "Long ago, little star," Lyra would say, her voice a soft melody against the evening hush, "when the world was younger and the veil between realms thinner, the birth of a goddess blessed our lands. From the heavens, a single tear of pure sunlight fell, landing upon barren earth. There, it bloomed into the Sundrop Flower, a bloom of such potent light it could mend any wound, banish any sickness." Rayna, small and wide-eyed, would always ask, "And where is it now, Mama? Why don't we have it?" Lyra's smile would fade a touch. "The heavens yearned for its return, child. But the goddess, in her wisdom, placed limitations. They cannot simply reach down and take it back. It is said the flower chose its own path, its own guardians."
Sometimes, when Lyra was preoccupied with mending clothes or preparing their meager meals, Rayna would catch her staring into the distance, a wistful look in her usually bright green eyes. It was during these moments that Rayna would sometimes glimpse it – a faint, almost imperceptible shimmer in the air near her mother's hands. It was fleeting, like heat rising from sun-baked earth, and vanished as quickly as it appeared. She'd tried to point it out once, but Lyra had simply smiled and said it was just a trick of the light. Other children in the village spoke of it too, though in hushed tones, calling it the "veil-sight." They said some rare individuals were born with a sliver of the old magic in their blood, allowing them to see beyond the mundane. Rayna had never seen anything so clearly as those fleeting shimmers around her mother, and she wondered if Lyra possessed this rare sight.
Life in Oakhaven was simple, governed by the rhythm of the seasons and the needs of the small farming community. But even in their isolated corner of the world, whispers of strange occurrences and the growing unease in the neighboring provinces reached them. Tales of unexplained illnesses, crop failures, and a rising fear of the unknown were becoming more frequent around the village. Rayna, growing into a curious and observant young woman, often felt a disconnect between the comforting myths of her childhood and the harsher realities of their present. The Sundrop Flower, a beacon of hope in her mother's stories, seemed a distant dream in a world increasingly shadowed by worry. She couldn't shake the feeling that the old legends held more truth than the villagers dared to believe, a feeling that would soon be tested in ways she couldn't yet imagine.