The morning sun cast a golden glow over the quiet mountains, where birds cawed and a gentle wind stirred the leaves. In a monastery nestled deep within jagged cliffs, a boy stirred.
Nova, a fifteen-year-old with untamed black hair and curious eyes, yawned as he pushed open the creaky door of his small room. He stretched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and stepped into the open courtyard.
"Morning, Grandpa," he called out.
An old man, sitting cross-legged by the fire pit with a worn wooden staff across his knees, glanced up. His beard was silver, his eyes weary but warm. "Well, look who finally woke up," the man chuckled. "You sleep like a bear."
Nova grinned and grabbed a cup of water, gulping it down in a single breath. The old man watched him for a moment before speaking again.
"You still thinking about it? That foolish dream of yours?"
Nova raised an eyebrow. "Thinking about what?"
"Eluria," the old man said flatly. "That so-called mystical land. Power, treasure, wisdom—it's all nonsense."
Nova blinked. "Oh. That? Yeah, I'm still going."
The old man let out a deep, rumbling laugh. "You really believe that place exists? It's a fairy tale. Not a single soul has confirmed its existence."
Nova placed the cup down and met his grandfather's gaze. "But... what if it is real?"
There was a long pause.
Even if it was real," the old man finally muttered, "you'd never make it out of this zone. You'd have to cross kingdoms. We're kingdomless. People like us don't get to chase dreams."
Nova's expression hardened. "I'm still going. I'll find Eluria and I'll create a world where people can live with joy."
The old man stared at him, lips pressed tightly. Then, almost reluctantly, a flicker of pride sparked in his eyes.
"You really want to go?" he asked.
Nova nodded. "Will you let me?"
The old man's face stiffened. "No."
Nova sighed. "Yeah… figured as much."
Without another word, he turned and returned to his room. The walls were bare, save for a single map and a rusted compass hanging on a nail. He stared at them for a long time.
Then, with resolve burning in his chest, Nova grabbed the map, the compass, and a small bag. He tossed in a water bottle, some stale bread, and whatever else he could carry. His heart pounded as he opened the window, stepping silently into the cold mountain air.
The temple stood quietly behind him, surrounded by steep cliffs and jagged rock faces. Nova slid down a narrow slope, his sandals scraping against the stone, and finally emerged at the base of the mountain range.
He looked back once at the old temple.
"I'll be back," he whispered. "And I'll bring everything I promised."
Turning forward, he began his walk into the unknown.
Far away, in the heart of the Mesonia Kingdom, a man sat on a golden throne. His long black hair hung down to his shoulders, tattoos crawling across his neck and arms. His voice was calm but commanding.
"When is the festival?" he asked.
A hooded man before him bowed low. "It was postponed, my lord. It will begin the day after tomorrow."
The tattooed man smiled faintly. "I see..."
---
Nova stepped onto open grassland, the sun bathing the rolling hills in green. He squinted at his map, tracing the path to a massive city far in the distance.
"Mesonia," he muttered. "Straight ahead…"
He began walking again, admiring the breeze and the wide sky.
"Wow… it's beautiful," he whispered.
Then, a sudden sound.
A low, guttural growl echoed through the trees.
Nova froze.
"What... was that?" he said, turning around slowly.
A hulking creature emerged from the trees a towering beast with the head of a bull and a body like a giant man, muscles bulging, eyes blazing with fury.
Nova's heart dropped. "What the hell is that?!"
The creature roared, and Nova ran sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. He darted through the fields, sweat flying from his brow.
Up ahead, a lone hut stood crookedly under a tree.
Nova dashed inside, slamming the door shut just as heavy footsteps thundered behind him. He leaned against the door, chest heaving.
"What... the hell... was that thing?" he whispered.
Outside, silence.
Then footsteps.
Slow. Heavy. Getting closer.
Nova didn't dare breathe.