Ryan stood outside the small cottage, gazing out at the rolling hills and dense forests that stretched as far as the eye could see. Eryndor stood beside him, a worn leather satchel slung over his shoulder.
"This is it, Prince Arin," Eryndor said, his voice filled with a sense of excitement. "Our journey to Eldrador begins."
Ryan took a deep breath, feeling a thrill of anticipation mixed with a dash of fear. He had never been one for adventure, content to live a quiet, predictable life on Earth. But that life was gone, replaced by a new reality that was both exhilarating and terrifying.
"What's the plan?" Ryan asked, shouldering his own pack.
"We'll follow the trade road to the east," Eryndor replied, consulting a yellowed map. "It's the fastest route to Eldrador, but it's also the most treacherous. We'll need to be careful."
Ryan nodded, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of the sword at his side. It was a strange, comforting feeling, as if the sword was an extension of himself.
As they set off, Ryan couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the world around him. The rolling hills, the towering forests, the sparkling streams – everything was so different from the concrete jungle he had left behind.
But despite the beauty of the landscape, Ryan knew that they were not alone. The dark alliance that had destroyed Eldrador still lurked in the shadows, waiting for their chance to strike.
And Ryan, with his newfound identity as Prince Arin, was now a target.