5 Years Old – Elderwyn Village
Erik had always been… different.
Not in how he looked.Not in how he spoke.But in how he listened.
He would often stop mid-play, tilt his head slightly — as if hearing something no one else could.
"Erik?" his mother called one afternoon as he stared at an empty patch of grass. "What are you looking at?"
He blinked and smiled. "Nothing, Mama. Just… listening."
To the world? To the wind?
Or to something else?
Erik's life remained peaceful. Most days were filled with wooden toys, story nights, and helping his father in the fields. His little sister, Lia, had begun walking — or rather, wobbling — and Erik was always by her side like a tiny guardian.
"Lia, not that stick! That's worm-stinky!"
She giggled and threw it anyway. He sighed like a tired old man.
One cloudy afternoon, Erik sat under the great tree near the village well. Three other village boys stood nearby — Thom, Galen, and Reeve.
Thom was the loudest, always pretending to be a knight.Galen was quiet, but sharp-eyed.Reeve just liked to win.
"Let's play 'Defenders of the Realm!'" Thom shouted.
"I'll be the king!""I'll be the dragon!""I'll be the hero!""I'll be…" Erik paused, "...a farmer?"
They laughed.
"Farmers don't fight dragons, silly," Reeve said.
Erik just smiled. "Maybe not in your story."
They gave him a wooden stick anyway — "just in case the grass attacks."
But something shifted that day.
As they played, Erik wandered off — chasing a wild dog bark echoing in the trees.
Deeper into the woods.Further than he had ever gone.
And then… silence.
A strange, absolute silence.
Even the wind stopped. The birds hushed. The trees froze.
Erik felt something... watching.
"He's wandered too close."
The soul inside stirred.
"It's too soon. But... I cannot let him die here."
From the bushes — glowing red eyes. A Forest Shade Wolf — rare and aggressive. Its black fur shimmered like smoke.
Erik froze.
The wolf growled low.
"Don't run," Erik whispered to himself. But his legs shook.
And then — instinct.
The soul pulsed.
Erik's eyes flickered gold for a heartbeat. Just one.
The wolf stepped back. Then whimpered.
"He felt it... even a fragment of me frightens beasts."
The wolf turned and fled.
Erik stood still, heart pounding. He hadn't moved. He hadn't screamed.
But something… had protected him.
That night, he said nothing at dinner.
Mira noticed. "Everything alright, Erik?"
He nodded. "Just tired."
The soul whispered in his mind:
"You've touched the thread. One day, you'll hold it. But not yet."
"Rest, little one. The world is not ready to hear your name… but it will."
And once again, silence filled him — not emptiness, but presence.
He slept with a smile, holding Lia's tiny hand in his.