The morning sun broke through the cracks of the shabby tavern walls, chasing away the lingering shadows of night. Ren stretched lazily in his chair, yawning wide before slapping his stomach, which growled like a starving beast.
"Why do I always wake up hungry? It's like I'm cursed or something…" he grumbled.
The creaking of the door pulled him out of his complaints. The mysterious man who had saved him yesterday stepped in, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow, his gaze sharp and unwavering. Just the way he walked was enough to remind Ren of how those bandits had trembled in his presence.
"Oh! Mr. Sword-Hilt!" Ren waved exaggeratedly, grinning ear to ear.
The man sighed heavily. "You're still calling me that?"
"Of course! It's a cool nickname, you know!" Ren replied without hesitation, brimming with excitement.
Rather than scold him, the man simply shook his head. He set a rolled parchment down on the table with a thud.
Ren blinked. "Whoa! Don't tell me that's a treasure map?!"
"A map of the world," the man said flatly.
Ren's expression immediately soured. "Oh. Lame." Still, curiosity got the better of him. He unrolled the parchment across the table, and his eyes instantly widened.
Across the surface stretched dozens of vast continents, each marked with names he had never heard before. His finger darted to the largest landmass in the center.
"This," the man said, tapping the parchment, "is Ardenfell. The heart of civilization and trade. All races gather there, but it's riddled with deceit and betrayal."
Ren nodded furiously. "Lots of people means lots of food! Jackpot!"
The man ignored him and pointed to another. "This is Eryndor, the eternal forest. Home to elves and beastkin. Outsiders seldom return alive."
Ren's eyes sparkled. "Bet they've got some tasty animals there…"
"And here," the man's finger slid across the parchment, "lies Veyra, an endless desert that swallows lives whole."
Ren waved his hands quickly. "Okay, noted. Don't go there. Sand tastes bad anyway."
But his gaze soon drifted to the other names scribbled across the parchment—Noctivar, Caldris, Zeythra, Thalos, Dravemor—and countless more continents sprawling in directions unknown.
"Eh? What about these? Look, look! There's so many! You can't just drop half the story!" Ren jabbed his finger repeatedly at the parchment.
The man remained silent. His eyes were cold, his silence sharper than any refusal.
Ren puffed his cheeks. "Stingy. What's the point of giving me a map if you won't explain it? Half-baked teaching style, I swear."
Instead of replying, the man reached into his cloak. When his hand emerged, it held a small object: a silver earring with a tiny bell dangling at its tip.
Light from the window struck the metal, making it gleam faintly. As the man tilted it, the bell jingled softly—cling~ cling~.
Ren's jaw dropped. "Whoaaa! It's shiny! And it makes noise! That's awesome!"
The man's gaze turned serious. "Wear this. Until the day we meet again."
Without a moment of hesitation, Ren snatched it and clipped it onto his ear. He shook his head side to side until the bell rang.
Cling~ cling~ cling~!
"Haha! Listen to that! Super stylish! I look like a mysterious protagonist now, don't I?" Ren puffed his chest proudly, striking a pose.
The man's expression softened, though his eyes dimmed with something unspoken. For him, that earring was no mere trinket. It carried weight, meaning, and history. Yet he said nothing.
Ren, predictably, noticed none of this.
"Well, even if it doesn't have powers, the sound's nice! Fits my vibe perfectly!" he said with satisfaction.
The man exhaled, turned, and walked toward the door.
"Wait, Mr. Sword-Hilt! Don't leave yet! What's your name? I can't keep calling you that forever—it makes you sound old!" Ren called out.
The man stopped but didn't turn fully. A faint, almost teasing smile curled at his lips. "You'll find out one day."
Ren groaned. "That's the lamest answer ever! Fine, I'll go first then. My name!" He jabbed a finger at his own chest, eyes gleaming with pride.
The man still walked on, seemingly indifferent. Until—
"My name is Ren Arclight!"
For a moment, the room froze.
The man halted at the doorway. His body stiffened, his gaze sharpened to a razor's edge. His pupils narrowed as if struck by lightning. That name—Arclight—was no stranger to him. It was a name steeped in history, a name that should not, could not, casually belong to some clueless boy.
But Ren, oblivious as ever, just laughed. "Hehe, cool, right? Sounds like a protagonist name, doesn't it?"
The man inhaled slowly, forcing calm into his expression. His lips quirked into a faint, inscrutable smile. "…Arclight, huh."
He stepped outside, but before the door closed fully, he glanced back once more.
"My name is Kael."
The door shut behind him with a soft thud.
Ren stood there, scratching his cheek with a goofy grin. "Kael, huh. Nice name. Still, my earring's cooler!" He shook his head again, letting the bell ring with every motion.
Cling~ cling~ cling~!
To him, it was just a shiny accessory. But unbeknownst to him, that simple sound would one day echo across the world as the herald of fate.