Lumeria Village lay cradled between rolling hills and fertile plains, a quiet sanctuary in a world long accustomed to the presence of monsters and miracles alike. Wheat fields shimmered beneath the early sunlight, their golden stalks swaying as though bowing to the wind, while irrigation channels carried clear mountain water across the farmland. Beyond the horizon, faint silhouettes of watchtowers and stone walls marked the boundaries of safety, reminders that this era was shaped by gates, tower climbers, and the lingering scars of divine conflict.
Yet for the people of Lumeria, life was defined not by distant gods or towering legends, but by soil, harvests, laughter, and the slow passage of ordinary days.
At the edge of the village, where the fields met a small clearing shaded by an ancient oak tree, Kael Ardentis practiced his swings. The wooden sword in his hand moved through the air with quiet precision, cutting invisible arcs that carried neither arrogance nor childish recklessness. His expression was calm, his eyes focused, as though he were already imagining a blade that did not yet exist. Being the village chief's son placed expectations upon him, but his dedication did not come from duty. It came from something simpler and far more stubborn—a desire to protect what he loved.
The sound of footsteps approached, soft and familiar enough that he stopped before turning. He had always been able to sense her presence, even before she spoke, as if the world itself whispered when she was near.
Seraphina Liora stepped into the clearing, her presence as gentle as the morning breeze. Sunlight filtered through the leaves above, scattering across her long hair and giving it a faint silvery sheen that made villagers quietly call her heaven-touched. Her expression was serene, but her eyes carried a warmth that had always drawn him in. She had lived in Lumeria with only her father for as long as anyone could remember, her origins a quiet mystery that no one dared question anymore. To Kael, she was simply Seraphina—the girl who had been beside him since their earliest memories.
"You're practicing again," she said, her voice soft but teasing, carrying the familiarity of someone who had said those words a thousand times before. "At this rate, the fields will start thinking you're training to fight them."
Kael lowered the wooden blade and looked at her, a faint smile forming despite his usual seriousness. "If the fields revolt, someone has to defend the village."
She walked closer and brushed dust from his sleeve, her fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "You already defend the village by existing. Father says the villagers sleep better knowing the chief's son is stubborn enough to challenge the world."
He tilted his head slightly. "He exaggerates."
"He doesn't," she replied, her tone light, yet her gaze carried something deeper. "You've been stubborn since we were children. Remember when you insisted on guarding the chickens from foxes and ended up sleeping in the coop?"
Kael looked away, embarrassed. "That was different."
Seraphina laughed quietly and sat beneath the oak tree, patting the grass beside her. He joined her without hesitation, their shoulders touching naturally, as though distance between them had never been a concept. The oak tree was older than both of them, its trunk marked with carvings made by childish hands long ago—two crooked initials etched into the bark, faded but not erased by time.
K + S.
They had carved it on a summer afternoon, swearing they would never forget each other, no matter where the tower or the world took them.
Seraphina leaned her head against his shoulder, her presence warm and grounding. "The traders came from the capital today," she murmured. "They said a tower climber reached a new floor. Everyone was excited."
Kael watched the clouds drift across the sky, imagining worlds beyond Lumeria. "Climbers are like stars. People look up to them, but they're far away."
She shifted slightly closer. "Do you want to become one?"
He hesitated, then nodded slowly. "If I can protect this place… and you… then yes."
Her fingers intertwined with his, their hands resting between them as naturally as breathing. "Then don't leave me behind. I don't want to watch you from far away like a star."
He tightened his grip gently. "I won't. If the tower calls me, I'll take you with me."
She smiled, teasing him softly. "You say that like I'm luggage."
"You're heavier than luggage," he replied without thinking, then realized what he had said and flushed.
Seraphina laughed again, her laughter light enough to blend with the wind. "Then carry me properly, Chief's Son."
From a distance, villagers could see the two youths sitting beneath the oak tree, close enough that their silhouettes merged into one. They never announced their feelings, never declared anything openly, but those who had watched them grow up knew. Some whispered that the chief's son had already chosen his future partner, while others teased that Seraphina had already claimed him without realizing it.
Kael and Seraphina, however, remained unaware of how obvious they were.
They simply sat there, sharing warmth, sharing silence, sharing a future that felt impossibly certain.
Unseen by them, the world continued to move. Caravans traveled the main roads. Tower climbers crossed borders. Nobles and powerful families shifted their positions like pieces on a chessboard shaped by divine remnants. Fate, slow and patient, observed the two youths beneath the oak tree, quietly weaving threads that would soon entangle their peaceful lives.
For now, the sun was warm, the wind was gentle, and the world had not yet decided to break their happiness.