Victor's heart raced as the man approached, his long robes trailing in the shifting winds. The sword at his side caught the dim light of the strange, swirling sky above them. Victor's eyes darted around, searching for something—anything—that would make sense of this new world. His feet felt heavy, like they were sinking into the stone beneath him, and yet, the courtyard seemed impossibly vast, stretching out into the horizon.
"W-who are you?" Victor stammered, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "Where am I? How did I get here?"
The man paused, his expression unreadable, then gave a slow, deliberate nod. "The questions are many, and I suppose you deserve answers. But first…" He lifted a hand, as though commanding the air itself to still, and for a moment, the winds died down, leaving an unsettling silence in their wake. "We should begin with your first lesson."
Victor's chest tightened. "Lesson? I didn't ask for any lessons!"
The man's lips curled into a faint smile, a glimmer of something ancient in his eyes. "None of us ask for the things that change us most. You may not know it yet, but you're no ordinary child. You've crossed a threshold, Victor Lara. Welcome to the Kingdom of Aeloria."
Victor took a step back, trying to wrap his mind around the words. Kingdom of Aeloria? He had never heard of such a place. It didn't even sound like something that could exist in the world he knew.
"But… I don't belong here," Victor whispered to himself. "This is all wrong. I need to go home."
The man's gaze softened, but there was something resolute about him. "There is no 'home' to return to, not in the way you think. This world… it has already claimed you."
Victor's pulse raced, and his head spun. The ground beneath him seemed to tilt, and his vision blurred. For a moment, he feared he might collapse. Was this a dream? A nightmare, even?
But no—this felt too real. He could feel the rough texture of the stone under his feet, the air heavy with the scent of earth and metal. He wasn't dreaming. This was something else.
"Wait…" Victor's voice cracked. "What do you mean, it's already claimed me? I don't even know who you are!"
The man's eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion—sadness, perhaps? "You may not know me, but I know you, Victor. My name is Thorian." He stepped closer, the gleam of his sword catching the light. "I am your guide… for now."
Victor swallowed hard, confusion rising in his chest like a tidal wave. "My guide? Guide for what? I just… I just want to go home! I didn't ask for this."
Thorian's eyes narrowed, a shadow passing over his face. "I understand your confusion. This world has a way of doing that to those who fall through its cracks." His gaze softened slightly, and he placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. "But you will find that Aeloria is not a world that is kind to those who do not understand its ways."
Victor looked around again, noticing the distant mountains that rose like jagged teeth against the swirling sky. In the far corner of the courtyard, there was a large fountain—though the water that spilled from its spout was dark, almost like ink, and it seemed to shimmer with an eerie glow. The courtyard itself was eerily quiet, devoid of any other living souls. No birds. No animals. Only stone and shadows.
"You've arrived in the Kingdom of Aeloria at a time of great change," Thorian continued, his voice low and deliberate. "Aeloria is not like the world you know. Magic courses through every stone, every tree, every breath you take. You've been chosen, Victor. Chosen for what, I cannot tell you yet. But rest assured, the powers that govern this realm have no interest in returning you to where you came from."
Victor's stomach twisted in a knot. "Chosen for what? I don't understand…"
Thorian stepped closer, his voice soft but insistent. "You were born for a purpose, Victor Lara. A purpose tied to this world's fate. There is power in you—power that lies dormant for now, but will awaken soon. When it does, you will be forced to choose: protect this world, or watch it fall into darkness."
Victor's breath caught in his throat. He wanted to protest, to scream, to deny everything the man was saying, but something about Thorian's tone made it feel undeniable. Like the words were a weight pressing down on him, forcing him to accept their truth.
"Darkness?" Victor echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. "What darkness? What are you talking about?"
Thorian's gaze grew somber. "The forces that govern this world are not always benevolent. There are those who would use Aeloria's power for their own gain. But there are also those who seek to destroy it, to bring about the end of everything."
Victor shook his head, trying to clear the fog that clouded his mind. "I don't even know what you're talking about! I don't want any of this!"
Thorian regarded him for a long moment, then finally spoke again. "You are not alone, Victor. There are others who walk this path with you. You will meet them in time."
Victor frowned. "Others? I'm not—"
"No," Thorian interrupted, his voice firm. "You are not the only one who has crossed the threshold. There are others like you. Some are allies. Some…" He paused, his eyes darkening. "Some are enemies."
Victor shivered. His mind raced, but before he could ask more questions, Thorian gestured to the sword at his side. "This is your first lesson, Victor. You cannot rely on your confusion alone to guide you. You must learn to fight. To defend yourself."
Victor took a hesitant step back. "I'm just a kid. I don't know how to fight!"
Thorian's lips curled into a small smile. "That is something I can help you with. The first step in understanding this world, Victor, is to understand the blade."
Victor hesitated, the fear and uncertainty in his chest threatening to overwhelm him, but something deep within him—something ancient and primal—seemed to stir in response to Thorian's words.
The man reached for the sword at his side, drawing it from its sheath with a smooth, practiced motion. The blade gleamed in the dim light, and as he held it out to Victor, the air seemed to hum with energy.
"This sword is not just a weapon, Victor. It is a key. A key to unlocking the power that lies within you."
Victor's eyes widened. "I… I don't understand."
"You will," Thorian said. "But first, you must learn to wield it. And that means you must face your fear."
Victor stood there for a long moment, staring at the sword in Thorian's hand. He didn't want this. He didn't want any of it. But deep down, beneath the layers of fear and doubt, there was something stirring—a strange pull, a desire to learn, to understand, to survive.
And for the first time, Victor realized something.
This world had already begun to change him. And there was no going back.
Thorian's voice broke through his thoughts, sharp and commanding. "Take the sword, Victor. It is time to begin your training."