The forest gradually thinned as Ren walked, giving way to rolling meadows dotted with wildflowers and ancient stone ruins. In the distance, smoke rose from what looked like a town—not the primitive village he might have expected, but something that seemed to blend magic with comfortable living in ways that intrigued him.
Stone buildings with enchanted glass windows gleamed in the afternoon sun. He could make out what appeared to be floating platforms carrying goods between structures, and crystalline formations that pulsed with soft light, probably magical streetlamps.
"Welcome to Aethermoor," the storm dragon's voice crackled with electricity in his mind. "Where magic makes life... convenient."
Ren paused to rest beside a weathered stone pillar carved with intricate runes. "It looks more advanced than I expected."
The crimson dragon's laughter flickered through his consciousness. "Your old world separated magic from progress, beloved. Here, enchanters preserve food, mages heat homes, and alchemists brew medicines that would seem miraculous to your people."
"Tell me about this world," Ren said quietly, settling against the ancient stone. "I need to understand what I've been thrown into."
The voices overlapped, each dragon eager to share their knowledge:
"Classes awaken at sixteen," the ice dragon explained, her voice crystalline and clear. "Star Mage, Flame Mage, Beast Tamer, Blade Warrior, Holy Priest, Shadow Assassin, Alchemist, Enchanter... the possibilities are vast, but each soul chooses only one path."
"And gates," the nature dragon whispered like rustling leaves. "Dimensional rifts that appear throughout the realm. Pocket dimensions filled with monsters, treasures, and trials. They're how people grow stronger after their awakening."
The shadow dragon's voice slithered through his thoughts. "The gates are graded by difficulty. F-rank gates can be cleared by fresh graduates. S-rank gates... they say only legends attempt those."
"What about the people who don't awaken classes?" Ren asked.
"Classless," the storm dragon replied with crackling disdain. "Perhaps one in ten thousand. They live as normal citizens—farmers, merchants, craftsmen. Useful, but powerless."
Ren absorbed this information as he resumed walking. The world seemed both familiar and alien—like every fantasy story he'd ever read, but with details that made it feel real and lived-in.
As he crested a hill, he spotted something that made him pause—a shimmering tear in reality itself, maybe twenty feet wide, hovering just above a grassy clearing ahead. Through the translucent barrier, he could glimpse a different landscape entirely: jagged ice formations under a starless sky.
A gate.
But what drew his attention more was the aftermath around it. Scorched earth, broken weapons scattered across the ground, and several makeshift graves marked with simple wooden crosses. Someone had been here recently, and it hadn't gone well.
"A failed expedition," he murmured.
"Common enough," the ice dragon said coldly. "Gates are unpredictable. Even experienced teams can be overwhelmed."
Ren was examining the scene when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to find a lone figure approaching—a man in his thirties wearing leather armor marked with guild insignia, a sword at his hip and a crossbow across his back.
"You shouldn't be here," the man called out, his hand resting casually on his weapon. "This is a sealed gate zone. Quarantined after the Emberwind Guild got massacred trying to clear it."
Ren raised his hands peacefully. "I didn't know. I'm just passing through."
The guild member studied him with experienced eyes. "You're not from around here, are you? No gear, no guild badge." He gestured at the gate behind them. "This is a Class-B gate. Took out a full team of C-rank adventurers. Even being near it is dangerous for civilians."
"Civilians?" Ren asked.
"Non-awakened folk. Or low-rank classes without proper training." The man's expression softened slightly. "You seem young. Just got your awakening? Word of advice—don't go near gates until you've had proper guild training. This isn't a game."
Ren nodded, playing along. "What kind of training?"
"Depends on your class. Mages learn spell control and mana management. Warriors focus on combat techniques and equipment mastery. Support classes like healers and enchanters study theory and teamwork." The guild member shrugged. "The guild in Millbrook can get you started. That's the town you're headed toward, right?"
"Millbrook," Ren repeated, filing away the name.
"About half a day's walk down this path. Just follow the crystal markers—they'll keep you on the safe route." The man turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and stay away from any more gates you might see. The sealed ones especially. They're sealed for good reason."
As the guild member walked away, Ren stared at the shimmering portal. Through their bond, he could feel his dragon wives' interest in the dimensional rift.
"You want to go in, don't you?" the chaos dragon observed, her voice a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotions.
"It would be... educational," the crimson dragon purred. "A test of your new abilities."
"It would be suicide," the ice dragon countered sharply. "You haven't even begun to understand your power yet."
Ren flexed his hands, feeling the dormant energy of the seven sigils beneath his skin. The gate called to something primal in him—the same instinct that had allowed him to kill the horned boar with flames he'd never learned to conjure.
But the ice dragon was right. He was still learning what he'd become.
"Later," he decided. "When I understand more about this world."
The approving warmth that flowed through his connection to the dragon wives told him he'd made the right choice.
For now.
As he resumed his journey toward Millbrook, the air beside him began to shimmer slightly—so faintly he might have imagined it.
*Soon,* whispered the crimson dragon's voice, carrying a promise that made his blood run hot.
*Very soon.*
One of his dragon wives was growing restless with their separation.
The first reunion was approaching, whether he was ready or not.