The stone wall surrounding the city of Valdren rose imposingly against the gray sky, its watchtowers silently surveying the wooden roofs and smoking chimneys. Narrow, uneven streets wound between stone and wooden houses, lit by torches that cast dancing patterns of light and shadow on the weathered walls.
In one of these dark alleys, wrapped in a black cloak that barely revealed his tall and imposing figure, walked Kael'Thar—an unusual visitor to the realm of humans. His eyes, two burning red flames, scanned every detail with the curiosity of a scholar and the prudence of a veteran warrior. Imposing in height, his figure resembled a warrior molded by darkness: muscles carved like black stone, wrapped in a crimson cloak that moved as if it had a life of its own. His horns, long and twisted, resembled the crowns of an unholy king, though they were always concealed so as not to draw attention.
The smell of burning wood and fresh bread mingled with the aroma of dried herbs hanging on doors. In the distance, the metallic clang of the forge announced the work of the blacksmiths, while a group of boys practiced fencing with wooden swords in the central square.
Kael'Thar entered a modest house, away from the hustle and bustle of the city, where a small wooden cradle awaited. Inside, a baby whimpered, covered in worn and threadbare cloaks, his pale face contrasting with eyes that shone like jewels—one deep blue and one mysterious violet.
"This is where you will grow up, little Lú," Kael'Thar said, carefully placing the baby down. "Here, far from the intrigues of the kingdoms, you can become what you are destined to be."
The boy grew up under the watchful eye of a being who was both guardian and master, in a world where swords were forged with ancient fire and spells were whispered in forgotten tongues.
Lucien had learned to speak and read by the age of eight months, a feat that greatly accelerated his learning under Kael'Thar.
Kael'Thar taught him everything about the history of the continents.
Valoria — The Human ContinentA vast territory of constantly warring kingdoms, where walled cities share space with peasant villages and magical academies. Humans stand out for their versatility: they are neither the strongest nor the wisest, but an ambition drives them to grow in all areas. Among them flourish warriors, magicians, and inventors—but also betrayals, civil wars, and hunger for power.
Narakth — The Demonic ContinentLand of abysses, eternal volcanoes, and seas of ash. Here, power dictates the law. Cities carved into igneous rock are home to demonic lords, each ruling their domain with an iron fist. Demonic culture is governed by the cult of strength, where only the most powerful survive. Yet there is a hidden facet of scholarship: many demons, like Kael'Thar, study mortals and magic to further their supremacy.
Drakarym — The Dragon ContinentA mountainous continent covered in eternal peaks and fiery valleys, where dragons reign supreme. Each region reflects a type of dragon: the scorching deserts of the fire dragons, the crystal-clear seas of the sea dragons, the eternally stormy skies of the thunder dragons. They are an ancient and proud race, who view others as inferior. Their world is both a sanctuary of wisdom and a prison of arrogance.
Eryndor — The Elven ContinentA living continent, where forests sing and rivers hold memories. Here, elves maintain their connection to primordial magic. Cities built in harmony with nature shine like jewels under the moon. They value eternity and the preservation of beauty, which makes them slow to change.
Kingdom of the Dwarves — Khazrak-ThurIn the northern mountains lies a frozen territory surrounded by immense rocks and deep caves. The kingdom is built underground, inside a mountain range, with endless tunnels, gigantic halls supported by stone columns, and rivers of lava and precious minerals.
Dwarves live for forging, mining, and honor. Each family keeps a coat of arms carved in stone, and weapons are passed down from generation to generation. They maintain compact armies, armed with runic axes and war hammers, and use engineering marvels such as ballistas and forged iron golems.
They worship Thordran, the God of the Forge and the Mountain, believing that their spirits return to the rock when they die.
Among other continents, Kael'Thar highlighted unexplored territories on this continent, which contained irrational monsters whose sole purpose was destruction.
The first rays of sunlight filtered through the cracks in the narrow window, casting golden streaks across the cold stone floor of the small room. Kael'Thar was already standing, his black robes moving silently as he watched the now two-year-old boy waking up on a makeshift mattress.
"Get up, Lu," he ordered, his voice firm but not without a hint of concern. "We're starting early today."
Lucien yawned, rubbing his eyes with his small hands, still sleepy. "Earlier than yesterday, master?" he asked, his sweet voice heavy with sleep.
"Earlier than yesterday," Kael'Thar confirmed, extending his hand. "Time is an enemy that never waits."
In the stone courtyard behind the house, an imposing figure waited: a long, sharp black sword resting on a wooden stand carved with arcane symbols. Kael'Thar led Lucien to it, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of pride and expectation.
"Today, you will learn to feel the sword as an extension of yourself," he explained, picking up the weapon with familiarity. "It's not just brute strength. It's balance, it's precision, it's... soul."
Lucien tried to lift the sword, his still-thin arms trembling under its weight. Kael'Thar smiled, patiently adjusting the boy's posture.
"Steadier wrist. Feel the flow of natural energy, like the current of a river. Your sword must dance with the mana that permeates the air."
For hours, they trained. They repeated movements, struck blows against wooden logs, and stepped rhythmically on the uneven ground. Kael'Thar watched every mistake, corrected every falter, and demanded more than Lucien's tired body wanted to give.
During a break, Kael'Thar sat down next to the boy and handed him a small vial containing a golden liquid.
"This is an elixir to strengthen your connection to mana," he said, his dark eyes softening. "But true strength will come from within."
Lucien drank, feeling warmth spread through his body. "Master, why do you help me so much? Don't you dislike humans? You said you firmly believe I am human."
Kael'Thar laughed, a deep, strange sound. "Fear and respect are brothers, boy. But I see something different in you—a spark that cannot be extinguished."
As the months passed, the lessons became more complex. Kael'Thar taught him to manipulate mana to create energy shields, cast simple spells, and recognize the natural currents that ran through the world. He also trained him physically, with swords, running, and climbing cliffs near the city.
On a rainy afternoon, as thunder rumbled in the sky, Kael'Thar and Lucien stood in the clearing outside the city, facing a different challenge: controlling natural energy.
"Close your eyes, feel the wind, the ground beneath your feet, the life around you," Kael'Thar instructed in a deep whisper. Lucien obeyed, breathing deeply, feeling the coolness of the rain mixed with the dampness of the earth.
"Now, channel that energy into your hand," the master continued. A faint light began to radiate from the boy's fingers, growing until it formed a pulsating sphere of green and blue energy.
"Excellent," said Kael'Thar, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. "This is just the beginning."
At that moment, Lucien felt something awaken within him—a force that seemed ancient, connected to the earth and the essence of life, but also something more ethereal, almost untouchable.
"You are ready for what lies ahead," Kael'Thar murmured, "but always keep in mind: the path is long and full of shadows."
And so, amidst shadows and whispers, the boy who knew nothing of his origins began to chart his destiny—a path that would take him far beyond the walls of Valdren, toward a future where the peace of the realms would be at stake.