The morning sun had just begun to rise, casting a warm light across the dirt road as our carriage gently rolled forward.
We passed by a small, peaceful-looking village not far from our home. The village was modest, with wide fields of vegetables and crops stretching into the distance. Farmers were already at work, tending to the land.
As we made our way through, an elderly man, appearing to be in his late forties or early fifties, stood beside the road holding a worn farming tool. He paused his work and suddenly called out.
"Draven!!" he shouted.
My father, surprised, looked around to find the source of the voice. When he spotted the man, his eyes softened in recognition.
Watching curiously, I asked, "Father, do you know him?"
"Yes," he replied with a gentle smile. "He's the one who helped your mother and me when we first came here."
But as he said that, I noticed something odd.
Though my father smiled, there was something hidden in his eyes—something he didn't say out loud.
Before I could ask more, the old man approached us with slow but confident steps. His eyes scanned the carriage and landed on me.
He stared at me for a moment.
My father noticed immediately and spoke before the man could.
"Yes, this is the son I told you about. He's grown quite a bit. In fact," he said proudly, placing his hand on my head, "today is his birthday."
"Oh? So this is your boy?" the man replied, surprised. He smiled at me. "What's your name, young one?"
I bowed respectfully. "Nice to meet you, Elder. I'm Cain Vorstheim, five years old—the only son of Draven Vorstheim and Monica Nyxveil."
The man raised his brows, clearly impressed. "Well, well. He's quite polite for someone his age. You sure he's your son?" he joked as he looked at my father.
"Of course!" my father grinned. "He gets it from me."
He playfully grabbed me by the neck, making me flinch a little. My mother giggled.
"Oh, dear…" she chuckled.
"What?" he replied, pretending to be offended.
The old man turned to me again, eyes filled with warmth.
"I'm Taro Holt, the village chief. A pleasure to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, Chief Holt," I replied.
He studied me again with a smile.
"You've got your father's looks, but your mother's smooth skin and delicate features. A perfect blend of the two."
"Eh?" I blinked, unsure how to respond.
My mother gave the chief a playful glare. "Geez, don't tease us like that."
My father, smiling proudly, said, "Of course he's our son—our blood runs through him."
"You've got a happy family," Chief Holt said sincerely. "It's good to see."
He paused for a moment, then asked, "Sorry for interrupting your journey, but may I ask where you three are headed?"
"We're taking Cain to the kingdom for the first time," my father replied with a bright smile. "We're celebrating his birthday there."
"Oh? That sounds wonderful. Just be careful—there have been reports of more monsters showing up in the forest lately," the chief warned, his tone turning slightly serious. "Especially in Whisperveil Forest. Be on your guard."
"Thank you. We'll be careful," my father said, nodding respectfully.
"Well then, safe travels," Chief Holt said with a wave as he stepped aside.
Our carriage began moving again. As we left the village behind, I glanced back one last time. Chief Holt had already returned to his work, as if the moment had never happened.
But his warning lingered in my mind.
"Monsters…?"
I turned my gaze forward. We were still far from the kingdom, but already approaching the edge of Whisperveil Forest—a vast and ancient woodland that stood between us and our destination.
It was the only road to the kingdom.
And I had a strange feeling… that things were about to change.