**Chapter 4: The First Year**
It had been a full year since I first arrived in this strange world, and over time, I had begun to adapt. The land was harsh, filled with dangers I couldn't fully understand, but there was one thing that confused me the most—why had I never felt hunger? I didn't need food or water, and neither did Mia. As we wandered through this desolate land, it became clear that the era we were living in was not one of humans but of gods. The signs were everywhere: the strange relics scattered across the ground, the ancient symbols etched into stone, and the unnatural phenomena that occurred without warning.
I had come to understand that we were in the **Age of the Gods**, an ancient time where divine beings ruled and shaped the world. And somehow, Mia and I had been thrust into it. As the days turned into months, I noticed something strange. While I began to grow like a normal child—my body slowly becoming that of a one-year-old—Mia remained unchanged. Her small, delicate body was exactly the same as when she was born. Her eyes were always closed, and she rarely made a sound. This concerned me, but there was nothing I could do.
Despite my lack of hunger at first, things changed when I reached my first birthday. Suddenly, I began to feel the gnawing pain of hunger, a sensation I hadn't experienced since the day we were born. It puzzled me—why now? Perhaps it was due to the blood that had been dropped onto my forehead just before my mother died. It was the only explanation that made sense to me. Maybe the magic in that blood had delayed my need for food.
I glanced over at Mia, who was still as quiet and unmoving as ever, and something inside me stirred. I had to find something to feed her, something that would help her grow, even though she showed no signs of needing it. Her cries, though rare, echoed in my mind every time they occurred, and it filled me with dread. I couldn't lose her too.
Carrying Mia on my back, I set out across the battlefield, searching for any trace of food amidst the countless bodies that littered the ground. I had no idea what to look for or where to start, but I had to try. I couldn't let her suffer. In one hand, I held the sword my mother had left behind—the legendary **Athanasia**, meaning "immortality." I didn't know much about it, but something about the sword felt special. I noticed something strange about it when I first touched it—whenever it came into contact with blood, the blade would turn black, as though absorbing the essence of those it cut.
As I walked through the carnage, I kept searching for anything edible. The corpses of gods lay scattered around, their divine forms twisted and broken from the great battles they had fought. There had to be something here, something we could survive on.
Suddenly, without warning, a flash of light appeared behind me. I spun around just in time to see a god emerging from a pile of bodies. His eyes burned with divine fire, and his presence made the air around him tremble. Instinctively, I raised the sword, ready to defend myself.
The god smiled grimly, his gaze focused entirely on me. "You..." he said in a voice that rumbled like thunder. "You are the child of prophecy."
Confused, I tightened my grip on **Athanasia** and took a step back. "What do you mean?" I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the fear creeping up inside me.
The god's eyes darkened, and he spoke with a sense of finality. "A storm will rise from the North, and with it, a child who will conquer all." His words echoed in the empty battlefield, and before I could ask anything else, the god collapsed, his divine light fading as death claimed him.
For a moment, I stood there in silence, processing what he had said. **A child of prophecy? Was that me? Was that Mia?** It was impossible to tell, but something deep inside me resonated with his words. It reminded me of something... something from the day we were born. My mother's last words, the blood on my forehead—it was all connected.
I shook off the thoughts and focused on the task at hand. The god was dead, and I had no other choice. I needed to survive, and so did Mia. With no food and no water, I made a grim decision. I took the god's blood, gathering it in my hands, and brought it to my lips. It was thick and warm, and though the taste was bitter, I forced myself to swallow. I had to stay strong.
I turned to Mia, my expression unreadable. "You must be hungry too," I said quietly, though she was too young to understand. With great care, I offered her some of the god's blood, making sure she drank as much as she could. Her small hands gripped my arm weakly as I fed her, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she stopped crying.
As I sat there in the midst of death, with my sister in my arms and the blood of a god on my hands, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of future awaited us. The prophecy, the strange power of the sword, and the fact that we had survived in a world ruled by gods—it all pointed to something greater. But what was it? What was our place in this world?
I looked down at Mia, her small form resting against my chest, and a sense of resolve began to form within me. No matter what this prophecy meant, no matter what dangers awaited us, I would protect her. I would survive, and I would make sure that we both found a way to live in this world, even if it meant facing the gods themselves.
The wind howled through the empty battlefield, carrying with it the scent of blood and death. I stood up, gripping **Athanasia** tightly in my hand, and began walking once more. There was no time to rest. I had to find food, shelter, and answers. The journey ahead would be long and dangerous, but as long as Mia was with me, I knew I couldn't give up.
In the distance, the sky was beginning to darken, and I knew that night was coming. The gods' realm was a place of peril, where darkness held secrets and dangers unlike any I could imagine. But with each step I took, I grew more certain that we would survive. Together, Mia and I would find our place in this world. And maybe, just maybe, we would discover the truth behind the prophecy that now hung over our heads like a shadow.