Everything that has been forgotten still exists. It waits. Beneath layers of clay, legends, and feigned normalcy.

Chemnice — a small town squeezed between forests and the past. A place that doesn’t like to be spoken of. And certainly doesn’t like it when someone returns.

Ewelina hadn’t planned on coming back. And she definitely hadn’t planned on confronting what only the body remembers. She had only a few backup plans, an inconvenient personality, one friend she trusted without question — and a whole list of things she never wanted to feel again.

But Chemnice doesn’t forget. It hasn’t forgotten the old rituals. The blood offered in sacrifice. The nameless children, buried in clay pits. The voices that pass through the walls at night. Nor those who pretended it was all just history.

“Blood of the Earth” is a story about friendship that survived more than it should have. About women who refuse to be silenced. About places that do not forgive.

The earth can remain silent for hundreds of years. But it does not forgive.
And when the time comes — it will claim what is its own.

After the events in Chemnice, Ewelina and Liliana are unable to return to normalcy. Each of them carries her own wounds: physical, psychological, and those inherited from the past. But the world gives them no time to rest — new signs, coincidences, and painful memories begin to form a new pattern.

In the second volume, the circle of the story expands. New characters step into the spotlight: Marika – a warrior with a past in the Order, which wasn’t what it seemed; Samuel – a figure balancing between light and chaos, seemingly an ally, yet disturbingly present.

Meanwhile, in the shadows of the ordinary world, something new is being born. A resistance? A cult? A community? Oasis – a place that offers hope, but also draws those who see it as a threat to the old order.

Volume II is a story about how true demons don’t come from the outside, but are born within people. And that even the purest intention can become a tool of violence if vigilance is lost.

In the third volume of the series, everything begins to tremble at its foundations — not just reality, but also the characters’ identities. Eliza – raised by the Order, trained to be a tool – begins to unravel under the weight of memories she was never meant to recall. When she finds evidence of crimes from the orphanage — names, photos, children’s drawings — there is no turning back. She chooses rage. The kidnapping and attempted ritual are no longer just mistakes — they are manifestations of extreme loneliness. Eliza wants to be more terrifying than Marika. She wants to be seen. She wants to mean more than just a number in a file.

Marika, though experienced and strong, makes a mistake: she underestimates Eliza. She thinks she knows all the patterns. But this time it’s not an enemy standing in front of her — it’s a lost girl with a demon at her back.

Samuel, the observer and trickster, is increasingly revealing his ambiguous role. He seems passive, and yet he’s always there when something changes. Digital rituals begin to emerge, repetitive patterns that resemble incantations. Is it just technology? Or a new form of enslavement?

But one thing is certain: nothing will ever be the same again.

After the war, peace does not always come. Sometimes silence comes instead — and it must be tamed. After the fire, only ashes remain — but within them, sparks of a new beginning can be found.

The fourth volume takes us into the heart of the community. The Oasis, once known as a refuge, grows into something more — the pulsing, multilayered heart of the entire story. Not a bastion. A laboratory of tenderness.

The novel stops being just the story of a single heroine. Ewelina gives lectures, Zosia documents the daily life of the Tribe in the Chronicle, becoming the emotional core of the narrative. Liliana explores the boundary between logic and fear, Marika withdraws into silence, Jelena undergoes a transformation, learning to become herself anew. Beside them — new residents of the Oasis, whose stories flicker in glances and whispered conversations.

Volume IV is a fabric of micro-stories: circles of conversation, vigils after concerts, cups of tea. No battles, yet each gesture carries weight. Because each character is broken — and learns how to piece themselves back together, without trying to return to a former shape.

In the background — the Orders have not disappeared, the threat persists. But now the tool of resistance is the word. The story. Listening. Silence. Janina returns as an ally of the Oasis, carrying new life. Ewelina does not flee. She learns to trust.