A place that looked like a castle — towering, ancient, and mysterious.
A soldier ran through its stone hallways and stopped in front of a wooden gate. He knocked gently, then stepped two paces back, standing straight with discipline. A moment passed, and with a creaking sound, a small lid-like window opened.
And there she was — Celitha.
The soldier's breath caught. She had long, jet-black hair that flowed past her shoulders, and piercing pink eyes that glimmered under the dim light. Her gaze was sharp — calculating — like someone who measured every movement, every word.
Celitha: "Huh? What do you want? Speak quickly."
Her voice was cold, clinical. She was a woman of science — logic, not emotions, guided her life.
Soldier: "Orders from Knight Commander Trail. He wishes for you to summon... Luxorious."
The mention of that name made her expression shift slightly. She felt it — a chill ran down her spine, almost as if the name had called something deep within her.
Celitha (thinking): Does Trail want me killed? Summoning Luxorious… that's no small task.
She didn't say another word. She shut the lid.
Inside her lab, the room was filled with bizarre and complex experiments. Beakers bubbled with strange liquids. Strange metals hummed faintly, while rodents and lizards squirmed inside sealed glass containers. The place smelled of chemicals and burned herbs.
She walked across the lab and opened a silver cage. Inside sat a majestic peregrine falcon — but this one was no ordinary bird. Its feathers shimmered red like fire.
She whispered to it: "Take my word. Tell Luxorious… to come find Trail."
She guided the bird to the open window. The falcon gave a sharp screech and launched into the skies, its red wings slicing through the wind. The message had been sent.
Elsewhere…
A dark castle loomed beneath a moonless night. Shadows crawled across its walls. Inside, dozens of Dark Soldiers stood guard. Their eyes glowed faintly in the night, their armor twisted and blackened like cursed steel.
Suddenly, silence fell.
A whisper — barely audible — echoed through the air. And then, one by one, the soldiers began to fall. Heads rolled across the ground, yet no enemy was seen.
The survivors panicked.
Their leader — a monstrous warrior clad in black — stepped forward. But before he could speak, his body twisted and melted like water, falling into a puddle on the stone floor.
Now chaos.
The remaining soldiers turned to run, but as they did, their legs were severed in an instant. Screams filled the night, but they could not regenerate — something about the attack prevented it. Fear consumed them.
A blade flew silently through the darkness — straight into the skull of one fleeing soldier.
Another turned, trembling. His body froze.
Far off, he saw a pair of glowing blue eyes — cold, calm, deadly. A figure sat still in the shadows, two daggers in hand.
The figure stood, slowly. The air grew colder. And before the soldier could speak, his neck vanished — a clean cut. Blood poured like a fountain.
A small spark of blue flame flared, and the figure vanished with the wind.
Elsewhere…
Dawn.
The golden sun rose gently into the sky. The forest breathed in the morning light, its leaves rustling with a soft melody. A cart rolled along a dirt path, the wheels creaking slightly as it carried three travelers forward.
Inside sat Aron and Lilith, their eyes wide with wonder as they saw it in the distance — The City of Lights.
Alongside them ran Hans, guiding the horse with skill and speed.
Two days they had traveled. Now, at last, they had arrived.
As the cart neared the city, the massive gates slowly rumbled open, shaking the ground with their weight. A knight clad in radiant white armor stepped forward. He inspected the cart briefly, then signaled them to pass.
Inside, the city burst with life.
Chants of warriors, clashing of swords, roars of trainers — the spirit of battle filled the air. Soldiers marched. Apprentices trained. Merchants shouted over crowds. It was a world full of motion, of dreams, and of destiny.
Lilith was bursting with excitement.
Once inside, they dismounted. The scent of grilled meat hit their noses.
Aron: "I'm starving."
Lilith: "Let's find food!"
They ran down the cobblestone streets, weaving through people until they found a bustling restaurant with warm lights and delicious smells.
They were welcomed inside, seated at a wooden table, and served steaming plates of food — roasted lamb, seasoned rice, hot bread, and a special golden stew. They devoured it all, laughing and smiling. For a moment, it felt like home.
But once they stepped out into the street again, Hans stood waiting, arms crossed.
Hans: "Enough, both of you. You're here to train — not to explore like tourists! This isn't a vacation."
Aron and Lilith went quiet.
Hans: "Now that we're here, decide which division you'll join. Each field takes three years — or more. Choose wisely."
Lilith: "Of course we're going for swordsmanship! Right, brother?"
Aron: "Sorry, Lilith… but I can't choose swordsmanship. I want to explore… blacksmithing."
Lilith blinked in disbelief.
Lilith: "What?! We agreed! Blacksmithing? There are millions of swordsmen already — and you'll just create another one?"
Aron: "I'm sorry… but that's how it is. It'll be just two years. Not that long."
Lilith looked down, then forced a smile.
Lilith: "I thought we'd walk the same path. But if that's your choice, then… okay. This is where we part ways. Hans and I will head to swordsmanship. You go… become a smith."
Aron nodded, but inside, his heart twisted. He wanted to go with them. But the book, his visions, and the future he had glimpsed — they demanded a different path.
Hans stepped forward.
Hans: "There'll be long lines for each division. I can't go with you. But here—"
He handed Aron a piece of bread.
Hans: "You'll need this."
Aron accepted it quietly. Lilith waved goodbye, forcing a cheerful grin. Aron did the same.
Lilith: "Don't forget me while you're hammering swords, okay?" Lilith joked, but her eyes were red.
Moments later, Aron stood alone.
The streets now felt larger. Colder.
He looked at the ground, then toward the path where lines of applicants waited for their division assignments.
But he didn't go there.
Not yet.
Because in his heart, he remembered what the old man had told him — "Find Mr. Wood before you decide."
So Aron walked. And walked. Hours passed. The city was too large, and his legs grew tired. Hunger crept in again. He scanned the streets and saw a small, quiet restaurant tucked between two buildings.
He stepped forward and read the sign above the door:
Wood Restaurant
His eyes widened.
Was this it? Was this the right place?
He stepped inside cautiously.
From the back, a man appeared, wiping his hands with a cloth. He looked up.
Man: "What would you like to eat?"
Aron, almost breathless, asked:
"Are you… Mr. Wood?"