Morning broke over the distant hills, bathing the land in hues of gold and silver. A lone figure walked along the narrow dirt path—his steps steady, his heart brimming with both fear and excitement.
Rawin, the young man from Raisymad Village, had finally taken his first step into the unknown. This was not just a journey—it was the beginning of his destiny.
From the top of a grassy ridge, he turned to glance back. The sun's rays struck the rooftops of Raisymad, making the village shimmer like an oasis amid a barren desert. The sight filled him with a bittersweet sense of pride and longing.
Taking a deep breath, Rawin clenched his fists and muttered to himself,
"This is the beginning of my journey—to find strength… and the truth about my parents."
He turned again toward the horizon and walked on. His path led him beyond Raisymad's borders, toward Gondalwa—a quiet village that sat below the shadow of the towering Moon Silver Stone Mountain, the longest ridge in the northern realm.
By midday, Rawin had reached the lower slopes. There, amidst the mist and scattered boulders, something flickered. Tiny bursts of blue and gold light danced between the rocks. At first, he thought it was sunlight reflecting off crystals—but then it moved.
Rawin froze. The creature before him shimmered with scales like glass, translucent yet alive. It was beautiful… and terrifying.
"Could that be… a Glossy Beast?" he whispered. "But Grandpa Dalwin said they live near Liarmoon Mountain, far to the east…"
His mind raced, but instinct—or perhaps curiosity—took over. Though he had no real battle experience, he drew his short sword and swung wildly. The air hissed with every strike, yet none found their mark. The creature was too fast.
Moments later, exhaustion gripped him. His movements slowed, his vision blurred—and in that instant, the beast lunged.
A searing pain tore across his arm. He fell, clutching the wound as the creature circled for another strike. Just then, a sharp voice echoed from the distance.
"Hey! Are you alright? Hold on—I'll take care of that thing!"
An arrow sliced through the air with deadly precision, striking the Glossy Beast's neck. It let out a piercing cry before collapsing.
A figure approached—tall, cloaked, and confident. It was a woman with amber eyes and a bow strapped across her back.
"Drink this," she said, handing Rawin a small vial. "It's a healing potion. Don't worry—it'll work fast."
"T-thank you," Rawin muttered, swallowing the potion despite the pain. Warmth spread through his arm as the wound began to close.
He stared in awe as the woman examined the fallen creature. Her movements were quick, practiced—each gesture revealing years of experience.
"How did you… shoot from that far away?" Rawin asked, still catching his breath.
The woman smiled faintly. "Guess you could say I've had plenty of practice. I'm a hunter, after all."
When she finally turned to him, her tone softened. "I'm Firsa, a hunter from Gondalwa. And you are?"
"Rawin," he replied, standing straighter. "From Raisymad Village. Thank you for saving me."
"Raisymad?" she echoed, curious. "That's quite far from here. What brings you this way, Rawin the traveler?"
"I'm heading to Geyser Village, across the Great Barren," he said without hesitation.
Firsa blinked. "That's in the central continent! You realize that's a journey of months, maybe years?"
"I know," he said, his eyes unwavering. "But I have to go."
Firsa studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Then at least rest in Gondalwa first. You look like you could use food, sleep, and maybe a few lessons in survival."
Rawin chuckled weakly. "You're probably right."
"Good. I'll take you there myself," she said, motioning for him to follow.
The journey to Gondalwa took several hours. The forest thickened around them, sunlight flickering between the branches. Along the way, Rawin couldn't hide his curiosity.
"Firsa," he began, "how did you kill that Glossy Beast so easily?"
Firsa smirked. "Those things are rare in this region, but they're not too different from wild deer—except shinier and ten times smaller."
"Smaller?" Rawin frowned. "But that one looked dangerous."
"Oh, it was. Minius-class Glossy Beasts are fast, but their senses are limited. They can only detect movement within fifty meters."
She glanced at him teasingly. "You were standing right in front of it, weren't you?"
Rawin blushed. "I… might've been."
Firsa laughed. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Tell you what—once we're in Gondalwa, I'll teach you how to shoot properly. And maybe introduce you to a friend of mine who's skilled with a sword."
"Really?" Rawin's eyes lit up. "You'd do that for me?"
"Of course," Firsa said with a grin. "Let's just call it payment for nearly giving me a heart attack back there."
As they walked, Firsa's thoughts drifted quietly.
(This boy… there's something about him. His aura feels untamed—like the wind itself. He'll become someone remarkable one day… I can feel it.)
"By the way," Rawin said after a pause, "you mentioned Glossy Beasts aren't common here. But we've seen more than one today. Is that normal?"
Firsa's expression darkened. "No. In fact, there have been more sightings this year than ever before. Usually, they don't stray this far west."
"That sounds dangerous," Rawin said quietly.
"It can be," Firsa admitted. "As long as they're Minius or Greata class, it's manageable. But if an Alp-class appears…"
She hesitated. "That's another story."
"Alp-class?" Rawin asked. "The one said to be as strong as a hundred men?"
"You've heard of them?" Firsa smiled wryly. "Yes. One Alp can wipe out a small hunting party. And they usually travel in packs."
"Has your village ever been attacked by them?"
"Not the village itself," she said, her tone calm. "But our hunting squads have crossed paths. I survived one such encounter."
"Just one?" Rawin gasped. "Even three of them would equal three hundred men!"
Firsa chuckled softly. "You make me sound braver than I am. I'd call it luck more than skill."
By late afternoon, the forest opened to reveal Gondalwa—a breathtaking sight. Houses were built high in the trees, connected by bridges woven from vines and glowing roots.
Rawin's eyes widened in wonder. "This… this is incredible."
Firsa smiled proudly. "We built our homes above the ground to stay safe from Alp Beasts. These trees, called Greevers, are harder than steel. Even an Alp's horns can't pierce them."
"I'd love to test that someday," Rawin said in awe.
"You can," Firsa laughed. "Once you've had some rest."
She pointed toward a tall tree crowned with a canopy shaped like a crown. "That's the best inn in the village. Mention my name, and they'll give you a discount."
"Thank you again, Firsa," Rawin said sincerely. "Will we meet tomorrow?"
"Yes. Come to the central square at sunrise," she said. "That's where your training begins."
"I'll be there," Rawin promised.
"Good," Firsa said, turning away with a smile. "Until then, Rawin of Raisymad."
"Until then, Firsa," he replied, watching her disappear into the crowd of bridges and lights.
As night fell over Gondalwa, the wind whispered through the trees—
and for the first time, Rawin felt the world truly beginning to open before him.