Renar returned to his family's small home after a morning filled with sunlight and a lingering sense of mystery.
A simple yet warm dinner was being set on the table: vegetable porridge and a few slices of bread.
His father, a man with a gentle appearance yet firm demeanor, sat solemnly at the table, while his mother, graceful and tender, laid out the food.
The sound of laughter and conversation wrapped Renar in peace after his morning adventures in the fields.
As the meal wound down, his parents exchanged worried glances.
His father finally spoke, "Renar, your mother forgot her little basket by the riverbank. Please fetch it for us."
Renar nodded, picked up a small oil lamp, and stepped out of the house.
He made his way down the village path to the riverside, where the trees whispered in the wind.
He retrieved the basket his mother had left behind. Inside were a few personal belongings and her old notebook.
But as he turned to go back, the sight before him froze his heart.
The village of Liora had become nothing but ashes.
Homes were burned down, smoke rose into the air, and the lifeless bodies of livestock and villagers lay scattered across the ground.
Renar's chest tightened, his heart pounding with grief and dread.
He dashed toward his home.
The horror deepened—his parents lay dead, signs of a brutal struggle and blood staining the floor.
Suddenly, a suffocating presence loomed behind him.
A monstrous beast, its fur a dark gray and its eyes glowing red, was gnawing on his mother's hand.
Renar recognized it instantly—her thumb still bore the small scar from when he had accidentally hurt her as a child.
The creature stepped toward him. Renar stumbled back, trembling with fear.
With a feral roar, the beast lunged.
Renar shut his eyes, overwhelmed by terror, despair, and a fury born from loss.
A surge of energy erupted within him, gathering in his hands before bursting into a radiant beam of light.
The beast was struck, screaming as its body dissolved into black smoke.
Renar collapsed, the world spinning, haunted by the echoes of wind and chaos in his mind.
In a haze between consciousness and dream, he saw visions of his parents.
Tears streamed down his face as he ran to embrace them, but they pushed him away, their faces filled with sorrow yet empty of warmth.
He chased after them, but the images grew fainter and vanished into nothingness.
When he awoke, Renar found himself lying in a bright white tent.
Around him stood robed figures, their hands glowing as they cast healing magic over his body.
One of them approached, speaking in a calm, deep voice:
"Child, are you alright? Where are your parents?"
Renar's lips trembled, his eyes burning red, but no words came out.
The healers exchanged troubled glances. Another voice, softer, explained:
"We are the Adventurers' Guild. We came to investigate the attack on Liora Village. You are safe now. We will protect you."
Still, Renar remained silent, the emptiness inside him too heavy to bear.
They helped him stand, guiding him through the camp, while others in white tended to the ruins and the survivors.
Days later, he was brought to the grand gates of the Adventurers' Guild, where officials prepared papers for his adoption.
At that moment, three mysterious figures dressed in vibrant, regal attire appeared before the guild hall.
Their gaze locked on Renar, as if they had long awaited this moment.
A new journey was about to begin—one where Renar would discover his true strength and confront the trials that awaited him.