The horse snorted and galloped tirelessly across the dirt trail, its hooves pounding against the earth in steady rhythm. Dust rose behind it like a fading trail of smoke as the group pushed onward through the wilderness. The sun hung high above them, painting the sky in warm shades of amber. The wind brushed past their faces, carrying the faint scent of dry leaves and distant mountains.
By the time they reached the halfway mark of their long journey, the riders finally slowed. The horse's breaths were heavy but steady, muscles trembling from the distance they had covered. There, beneath the shade of an old oak tree splitting its branches proudly across the sky, the group paused to rest and gather fresh water. The sound of a nearby stream echoed softly, bringing a peaceful moment after hours of relentless travel.
Meanwhile, somewhere far away from that calm world, a dream was echoing through silence—a silence thick enough to suffocate. Aron found himself lying on the cold ground, unable to understand where he was or how he had gotten there. The air around him grew heavy, pulsing with an unseen force.
A whisper drifted through the emptiness.
At first it was faint—barely audible—but then it grew louder, deeper, heavier. The air itself trembled with the weight of its presence, as though the world was shrinking around him.
"Find the blade... the power awaits..."
The words struck him like a thunderclap. They didn't just echo in the air—they trembled inside his very soul. Aron's eyes shot open, terror washing over him. The voice was deep, dark—so chilling that his entire body broke into cold sweat. What was happening to him? Why did it feel like someone was speaking directly into his bones?
But before he could question it, the voice vanished.
And the dream changed.
Suddenly, he was no longer lying on the ground. He stood on the edge of a massive cliff, overlooking a breathtaking landscape. The sun glowed warmly over endless fields and towering mountains draped in lush green forests. The wind around him was gentle, almost comforting, but despite the beauty of the scenery… something felt terribly unnatural.
His instincts told him he wasn't alone.
In the distance, Aron spotted something unusual—a man in shining armor locked in a duel with another swordsman.
Instantly alert, Aron stepped behind a tree, watching from the shadows. He focused on every movement, trying to understand what he was witnessing.
The armored man didn't even flinch. He stood perfectly still, like an unmovable mountain, even as the stranger charged at him with all his strength, sword raised high.
But just as the stranger's blade was about to strike—
It shattered.
Metal fragments burst into the air and clattered helplessly across the ground.
The stranger stumbled back, his breath catching in pure disbelief.
Stranger: "I… I admit my defeat. My death is yours."
The armored man's response was calm—too calm.
Armored Man: "Even though no one has ever touched me, I have never killed anyone who is good."
He stepped forward slowly and extended a hand toward the defeated stranger. The man stared at the gesture, stunned, and then hesitantly took it.
Stranger: "Why didn't you kill me?"
Armored Man: "Because I don't believe anyone with a pure heart deserves to die."
The stranger lowered his gaze, shame washing over his face.
Stranger: "Who… who are you?"
Armored Man: "A man who seeks freedom… and peace."
The stranger faltered again, voice trembling.
Stranger: "I have never heard such words. I am a worthless man… I couldn't even protect my own. And now I stand here losing once again…"
The armored man's voice softened.
Armored Man: "Power isn't everything. Believing in outcomes holds no meaning if you cannot move forward. You accept your losses… and you keep walking. Only then will you find a reason worth living for."
Stranger: "I have nowhere left to go. And I don't want to fight anymore. I… I want to be a better person."
Armored Man: "Then go to Norm's Valley. Tell them Norm sent you."
Aron watched all of this in silence, hidden behind the tree, too shocked to even breathe.
Who is this man?
Why does he feel so familiar?
Just then, the armored man turned—slowly, deliberately—and their eyes met.
Aron froze.
Those eyes… deep, shadowed, carrying a darkness that felt ancient. Something about him made Aron feel like death itself was staring back at him.
In that terrifying moment—
Aron jolted awake.
His heart pounded violently. Sweat soaked his clothes. His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps.
"What… was that?" he whispered.
It felt too real. Too vivid. And worst of all—the man had seen him.
Still trembling, Aron climbed out of bed and walked toward his mother's room. When he stepped inside, he saw his mother, Hilda, gently holding his baby sister as she giggled and tugged at her hair. The sight softened the tension in his chest.
Hilda: "Aron, you're awake, my son?"
Aron (rubbing his eyes): "Yeah… Isn't Dad home yet?"
Hilda: "He could be gone for days… or even months. The journey is long, my dear."
Aron hesitated before speaking again.
Aron: "Mom… I keep having this dream. A voice keeps calling me. It's like… it's taunting me. It keeps saying something is waiting for me."
Hilda chuckled lightly, trying to ease the tension.
Hilda: "Hmm… then it must be the new horse your father bought me. He's white, with long beautiful hair—just like a creature from a fairy tale."
Aron's face lit up instantly.
Aron: "Really?! Really?! When did he buy it?! Show me!"
Hilda (smiling warmly): "I'll show you when he comes back."
Her smile felt like sunlight, pure and gentle.
Aron: "Okay then! See you later, Mom! I'm going outside!"
He rushed out of the house and made his way to the quiet pond near the edge of the village. He stared into the still water, watching his reflection ripple gently—but his thoughts were consumed by the armored man from his dream.
A cold shiver ran through him.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed behind him.
A familiar voice.
Kyle.
Aron turned to see Kyle sparring aggressively with a soldier—Keith, one of Agarth's most trusted men.
Kyle: "Come here! I'll punch you!"
Keith (groaning): "Stop it, kid! These damn children are going to drive me insane…"
Aron: "Kyle! What are you doing now?"
Keith: "Finally! You take him. I'm done."
Keith practically shoved Kyle toward Aron before stomping away, fed up.
Kyle: "Damn him! I'll make him pay!"
Aron: "Kyle… what are you even doing these days?" He sighed, shaking his head at Kyle's impulsiveness.
But before Kyle could answer, a cloud of dust rose on the horizon.
Aron narrowed his eyes.
Horses.
A group of riders thundered toward the village. Their voices carried through the wind.
Aron's heart skipped.
He knew those voices.
His father had returned.
Agarth was back.
After months on a perilous journey, Agarth and his soldiers finally arrived home—safe and unharmed. Villagers rushed out, cheering and welcoming their warriors.
Agarth jumped off his horse immediately and pulled his sons into a tight embrace.
The entire village lit up with joy. Families reunited. Children laughed. Soldiers celebrated with relief and pride. Warm fires were lit, the smell of roasted meat filled the air, and the peaceful night came alive with celebration.
Agarth, despite being exhausted, lifted his daughter high into the air, making her giggle endlessly. The love in his eyes was undeniable.
As the night went on, the Norm's Valley villagers gathered together, dancing, eating, and celebrating. Laughter mixed with music, echoing far into the forest. Norm's people were known for this—warmth, kindness, joy. It had been passed down from generation to generation.
Agarth stood quietly for a moment, watching them all with a proud smile.
But then—
His smile faded.
He remembered the rumors… the warnings… the strange signs he had seen on his journey.
Peace will not last forever.
His eyes drifted to Aron in the distance.
Agarth's heart tightened, a deep agony hidden behind his gaze.
Agarth: "I truly… don't want to know the future."