The village of Elowood was quiet in the early mornings. Smoke rose gently from thatched chimneys, mingling with the mist that draped itself lazily over the dew-drenched fields. Birds chirped from the crooked fences, goats clattered up rocky hills, and a faint breeze carried the scent of baked bread and fresh soil.
And in the middle of this peace, beneath a rustling maple tree, slept a boy with wild black hair and a blade resting beside him.
Leo. Sixteen years old. Tall for his age. A little too serious. And always the first to train, even if the whole village teased him for it.
He wasn't the strongest in Elowood — that was probably lumbering old Jarn who could lift a cart alone — but Leo had something else. Three elements stirred faintly within him: Fire, Wind, and Earth. The village elder once said it was unusual, but not impossible. Magic flowed like a river in the world — and Leo just happened to stand at the junction of three streams.
Still, he was no prodigy. Just hard-working. Quiet. Loyal.
And he was happy.
"Leo! You're going to sleep through the harvest!" a voice called from the hill. His younger sister, Fina, bright-eyed and barefoot, bounded down the slope with a basket swinging at her side.
Leo rubbed his eyes. "Just five more minutes…"
Fina plopped the basket beside him and poked his cheek. "The only thing you'll harvest like this is grass in your mouth."
He groaned and sat up. The blade beside him gleamed faintly — not enchanted, just well cared for. A gift from his father, who worked in the village forge and still believed in the old ways: protect what you love, no matter how small.
Together, the siblings walked back toward the village center, where simple lives played out — bakers shouting about burnt loaves, kids chasing glowing spirit-bugs, the old herbalist trying to train a squirrel to deliver potions. It was chaotic, it was humble… and it was home.
But far beyond Elowood's green pastures, across the kingdom of Valistheria, the world stirred with something darker.
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The World Beyond Elowood
Twenty years ago, the final blow was struck in a battle that nearly shattered the skies. The Demon King fell, and with him, the Last Hero — a group of seven warriors wielding the old world's greatest magic and might. They died where they stood, their powers torn from their corpses, scattered across the world like cursed seeds.
Since then, the royal families of Valistheria had grown… restless.
Their sages believed that fragments of both the Hero's Light and Demon King's Dark still slumbered in the land — and worse, in people. Ordinary children. Bloodlines with no known glory.
So they hatched a plan. A silent war.
They sent spies into distant villages, disguising them as travelers, merchants, or even monks. The goal: find children with rare affinities, test them secretly, and mark them for collection. Once marked, a "raid" would come — murder disguised as banditry or demon attack. The royal army would sweep in after, "rescue" the orphans, and bring them to the capital.
There, they would be trained, brainwashed, and used — tools to reclaim the lost powers of legend.
Elowood had been marked.
But Leo didn't know.
---
That evening, he sat under the same tree, blade across his lap, watching the sun dip beyond the river.
"Do you think we'll ever leave here?" Fina asked beside him, chin on her knees.
Leo smiled faintly. "I don't want to. Not really."
He didn't need adventure. He didn't want glory.
He just wanted to live.
But fate had already chosen him.
And the fire was coming.
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