Dawn rose slowly over the village of Veynar, tinting the thatched and stone roofs with golden gleams. The chimneys spewed a faint smoke into the crisp spring morning, and the air still held the scent of night dampness. Cedric Veynar, the son of a blacksmith who had never known rest, stood at the door of his house. The boy, though approaching adulthood, wore the armor he had inherited from his grandfather, a gray steel breastplate scarred by ancient battles. Beside him lay his sword, sheathed, waiting for the moment to sing again against iron or flesh.
With his right hand, he stroked the neck of his steed, a lively-eyed black bay he named Eldras. The horse snorted, as if understanding the gravity of the moment. It was the day Cedric would leave behind his home, his roots, and the simple life of the countryside, to embark on the uncertain destiny of a mercenary and explorer.
The door of the house opened, and his mother, with silver hair and a face weathered by the years, looked at him with a mixture of pride and fear.
"Do you really have to go, Cedric?" she asked softly, though her eyes shone with tears.
"Mother, I've decided. The world is vast, and no one knows it completely. I will be the one to travel it, to know the realms others only dream of."
His mother pressed her lips together, torn between hope and sadness.
"Your father would have wanted to see you continue with the forging," she said finally.
Cedric shook his head.
"Father forged swords. I will be the one to wield them, not in useless wars, but in the pursuit of glory, knowledge, and honor."
The woman hugged him tightly, as if her arm could support him, then silently stepped away. Cedric mounted Eldras, tightened the reins, and without looking back for long, rode toward the road leading out of the village. The children watched him pass in admiration, and some peasants murmured that the young man would end up dead in some distant grave. But deep down, he knew his destiny was not to die in oblivion.
The dirt road took him first to the low hills bordering the Human Kingdom. There, Cedric faced his first trial. A lone traveler, covered in dust and fear, ran toward him.
"Sir, help me!" the man cried. "Bandits on the bridge!"
Cedric spurred Eldras on, and within minutes, he faced a gang of four men armed with rusty knives and clubs. The leader, a red-bearded, scarred man, laughed at the boy.
"Look at him... a child playing at being a knight. Give us your horse, lad, and you can leave alive."
Cedric didn't respond with words. He drew his sword, its gleam gleaming in the morning sun, and advanced. Eldras reared up on his forelegs, felling one of the bandits. Cedric's sword struck another in the shoulder, who fell to the ground with a groan. The leader charged him, but the young man deflected the blow with a nimble twist and plunged his sword into the enemy's flank. The others fled without looking back.
The grateful traveler knelt.
"I have never seen such bravery, sir. Who are you?"
Cedric wiped the blood from his sword and answered firmly,
"I am Cedric Veynar, son of this kingdom, and my journey has only just begun."
For days he wandered through villages, forests, and forgotten roads. As a mercenary, he accepted minor assignments: clearing the path of magical wolves that hunted at dusk, protecting fearful merchant caravans from raiders, and even guiding curious scholars to ancient ruins.
It was on one of these missions that Cedric found an unusual place. Between the roots of a giant oak tree lay the entrance to a forgotten ruin. The elders of the nearby village claimed it belonged to the city of the "First Kings," humans who had ruled centuries before the disintegration of the kingdoms.
Torch in hand, Cedric descended the stone steps, hearing the echoes of his footsteps multiply in the gloom. On the walls, symbols glowed dimly with ancient magic. He was not alone. A creature waited.
From the darkness emerged a specter, a human-shaped shadow whose eyes were blue embers. It wielded a sword made of pure energy. Cedric gritted his teeth and raised the sword.
"Whatever you are, you will not impede my passage." The clash was brutal: the specter's magic sword slashed like icy fire, but Cedric, with precise movements, managed to deflect the blows. Eldras whinnied from the entrance, disturbed by the supernatural presence. In a moment of courage, Cedric lunged at the specter, running his sword through it. The creature let out a scream that shook the stones and vanished into dark smoke.
After the fight, Cedric found a golden locket, covered in forgotten runes. He didn't understand its meaning, but he knew the object marked the beginning of a destiny greater than he had imagined.
Days later, sitting by the campfire in a clearing, he reflected as he fed Eldras.
"The world is full of mysteries and horrors... but also wonders." His eyes shone with determination. "I will not rest until I know them all."
The night wind carried a murmur, like distant voices among the trees. Ancient spirits roamed those lands, and Cedric felt no fear. On the contrary: it confirmed that his journey would take him beyond his wildest imagination.
In the distance, to the east, stretched the mountains that marked the boundaries of the Human Realm. Beyond them lay the elven domains, shrouded in legends and secrets. Cedric smiled, tightened his grip on his sword, and said to himself:
"Today begins the traveler's path. And no creature, kingdom, or destiny will stop me."
The campfire crackled, and the starry sky looked down upon the young knight-errant. Thus, at just nineteen years old and with an unbreakable will, Cedric Veynar took the first step toward a story that would resonate throughout the kingdoms for generations.