The late afternoon sun filtered through the towering trees, scattering shafts of gold across the forest floor. Birds called overhead, and the crunch of dry leaves underfoot echoed softly as a man and his young son moved cautiously between the roots and shadows.
Dain walked ahead with steady purpose, his rugged frame and weathered face betraying years of experience in the wild. A seasoned hunter, his sharp eyes scanned the earth and trees with a predator's caution. Behind him trailed his son, Ren, a bright-eyed boy of six, clutching a small wooden bow nearly too big for his hands.
"Father!" Ren whispered, excitement bubbling in his voice. "I think I see tracks!"
Dain crouched, brushing a hand over the fresh marks in the soil. His expression darkened. "Boar," he muttered.
Ren leaned in, curiosity plain on his face. "Then… where is it?"
The ground trembled beneath their feet. Dust and leaves leapt into the air as something massive crashed through the undergrowth. Dain's eyes widened. "It's coming. Jump!"
Father and son leapt into the trees as a hulking boar, nearly the size of a man, burst from the brush, tusks gleaming. The beast pawed the earth, snorting, searching for its prey.
Balanced on a branch above, Ren crouched, arrow nocked and trembling. Across from him, Dain gave a sharp nod. "Just like we practiced, boy. Steady."
Ren swallowed, his small fingers pulling the string back with all his strength. "Okay…"
He released. The arrow whistled downward—only to thud harmlessly into the dirt.
The boar shrieked and turned its furious gaze upward.
Dain tensed, ready to spring, but stopped as he caught the glint in his son's eyes. A red aura flickered to life around the boy, pulsing with raw energy.
Let's see how much you've grown, Dain thought.
Ren leapt from the branch, charging straight at the beast. With a cry, his fist slammed into its hide, staggering it. The boar roared and snapped, jaws closing dangerously near the child's arm.
"Crystal Shield!" Ren shouted.
Light burst around his forearm, hardening into jagged, translucent crystal. The beast's tusks scraped against the magical barrier with a screech. Ren seized its snout, muscles straining, and with a guttural cry he ripped the beast's jaw open.
The boar crashed to the ground with a final shudder.
Panting, face flecked with blood, Ren stood triumphant. He wiped his arm across his face, leaving a crimson smear. "It's over," he whispered.
Above, Dain descended from his perch, a rare smile touching his lips. "You did well."
Ren beamed. "Thanks, Father."
"Pack it up. We head home."
Ren nodded, raising a hand. "Item Box."
A black rift tore open before them, swallowing the beast whole with a hiss.
The forest fell silent again. Dain turned back toward the trail—only to stop cold. His sharp eyes narrowed.
On the path ahead lay a basket.
Inside, wrapped in a purple blanket, was a child.
To be continued…