The story I'm about to tell you is not one you'll find in any history book, nor will it appear in any legend—at least, not yet.
I am Gabriel, the Messenger. I have seen much in my time, yet nothing mattered more than the day I was tasked with delivering a summons that could alter the fate of kingdoms.
This is not my story. It belongs to another—one chosen from a world quiet, ordinary, and completely unaware that destiny had been waiting for him all along.
His name is Zephan.
The Council's instructions were simple. Find him. See if he is willing. Bring him through the portal. Easy to say, impossible to ensure. Three kingdoms teetered on the edge of war, and their spies already moved like shadows, seeking the one who could tip the scales. Every step I took was measured, careful. One misstep, one glance, and the delicate balance of fate could shatter.
I drew the small, ancient key from the folds of my robe. It had been given to me by the Council, and its weight was heavier than it seemed. It carried more than metal and magic—it carried responsibility, destiny, and the fate of worlds I had only glimpsed from afar. With a careful twist, I activated it.
The air before me rippled. A shimmer appeared, bending and folding the world like sunlight dancing on water. The portal had opened. The veil between my world and Zephan's trembled, ready for the journey ahead.
I stepped through the rift, letting the key remain safely in my grasp, and emerged onto the gray streets of Zephan's world. Rain slicked stones gleamed under the pale glow of lanterns, smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and the city moved with the quiet rhythm of ordinary life, unaware that destiny had arrived on its worn streets.
And there he was.
Zephan walked alone, hands casually tucked into his coat pockets, shoulders relaxed. His eyes drifted over the street as though reading its story in every crack and puddle. He didn't notice the subtle shimmer in the air behind me or the faint tug of magic that threaded through the night. That, I realized, was his nature—attuned to small, quiet details, yet blind to the extraordinary until it appeared before him.
I slowed my steps. Some might have expected a hero at this moment to be startled or hesitant, but not him. Zephan moved with an ease that made you feel he had always known the world held secrets he couldn't yet name. Perhaps, somewhere deep inside, he had sensed that life was never going to be ordinary, that something waited for him beyond the edges of what he knew.
"Zephan," I said, my voice steady, carrying the weight of distant kingdoms and urgent matters. "I am Gabriel. You have been chosen."
He froze mid-step. A slight tilt of his head, the faintest arch of a brow. Curiosity. Nothing more. No shock, no fear, no disbelief. Just curiosity. He studied me, silently and thoughtfully, and in that moment I realized something essential: this young man would not be easily shaken. He would face what came with clarity, with a calm that could anchor the world in chaos.
I extended the scroll. Its seal glimmered faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat of magic. The air around it vibrated subtly, almost whispering in response.
"Read this," I said. "Decide if you will step forward. The kingdoms will not wait."
Time itself seemed to pause. The rain softened to a fine mist. Lanterns flickered gently in rhythm with the seal's faint pulse, casting dancing shadows on the cobblestones. Zephan's gaze remained fixed, calm yet alert, as if he understood that this moment—though ordinary to the world—would change everything.
He reached out slowly, deliberately. His fingers brushed the seal, and the hum of the portal responded, shimmering and quivering like sunlight on restless water. The veil between worlds bent, ready to take him beyond the ordinary. The portal was open, summoned by my key. But the step forward—that choice—was entirely his.
"You are not like the others," I said softly, though I knew he could not yet understand. "You will need courage. Not just for yourself, but for the kingdoms that watch you now. You are their hope, and perhaps more than that, their reckoning."
A faint smile curved his lips. No pride, no arrogance. Just quiet acceptance, a willingness to face the unknown. In that small gesture, I glimpsed the beginning of something extraordinary—something the kingdoms, the Council, and even the veil itself had never anticipated.
The glow of the portal beckoned, yet he paused for only a heartbeat. His eyes met mine, questioning, seeking reassurance. I nodded once. That was all he needed.
And then he moved.
The veil embraced him, folding the ordinary streets behind him as he stepped into the shimmer. Time stretched slightly, air trembling, as his world blurred at the edges and faded away. He was gone.
I lingered a moment longer, feeling the weight of what had begun. Three kingdoms would watch. Assassins would move in shadows. Friends and enemies alike would appear, their motives hidden and their loyalties uncertain.
The story was no longer mine. It belonged entirely to him.
Yet I knew this was only the beginning. Zephan's journey would test him in ways he could not yet imagine. His heart, his mind, and even the quiet depths of his soul would be drawn into a world of danger, power, and impossible choices. And somewhere, within it all, the faint stirrings of love, trust, and loyalty would awaken—unexpected, yet unavoidable.
I stepped back into the shadows, letting the portal's glow fade. The night whispered its secrets around me, carrying the faint scent of rain and possibilities. I had delivered the summons, but the story itself—Zephan's story—was about to unfold, a tale of kingdoms, assassins, and a young man who would come to define the fate of them all.
The adventure had begun.