Ronan had always been a quiet person, barely noticed by anyone. At the university, he sat at the back of the classroom, silent and withdrawn, keeping to himself and never engaging in idle chatter or forming bonds with classmates. No one invited him to sit with them at lunch, and no one noticed when he quietly slipped out of the room after class. University had never been a friendly place for him, not that he had much time or reason to worry about friends anyway, and in the bustling corridors, he seemed almost invisible.
The truth was, he had no family to return to, no one waiting for him at home with warm meals or comforting words. Until recently, his life had revolved entirely around the orphanage that had sheltered him since childhood.
He found a small, run down room in a cramped building. The rent was cheap, but even that strained his savings. To survive, he took up part-time jobs cleaning, delivering goods, sometimes waiting tables. It wasn't much, but it allowed him to scrape by. Each day felt heavy, but Ronan endured, telling himself that life would eventually reward him if he just kept moving forward.
Ronan was used to hardship. He had learned how to survive without anyone looking out for him, how to stretch every penny, and how to keep his head down while the world moved past him. Today, like most days, he trudged along the cracked pavement after finishing his shift at a convenience store, dragging his tired legs toward the bus stop. The autumn air was crisp, carrying the faint smell of street food and exhaust fumes, but Ronan barely noticed. His thoughts were consumed with bills, rent, and university fees.
Then, something sharp and alarming cut through the monotony a scream. It was faint at first, but unmistakably human. Ronan's head snapped up, scanning the street ahead. As he drew closer, he saw two men cornering a girl they had her pinned against a wall, their intentions clear and menacing. The girl struggled, her eyes wide with terror, her hands trying desperately to push them away. Fear in her eyes struck a chord deep within him.
Without a second thought, Ronan stepped forward. "Hey! Stop it!" His voice, though calm, carried an authority that made even him startle.
The men turned, surprised by his sudden appearance, laughter curling cruelly on their lips. One shoved him roughly, and Ronan stumbled back, but his resolve didn't waver. He pushed one of the attackers with all his strength, making them step back. The girl seized the moment and tried to run, but the second man swung his foot, striking Ronan squarely in the chest.
Ronan fell backward onto the hard asphalt, pain shooting through his body. At that very moment, a car came barreling down the street. There was a sickening screech of tires as the driver braked suddenly. The vehicle skidded, stopping mere inches from him. Before he could comprehend what had happened, the driver flung open the door. The two men, seeing the approaching witness, panicked and fled, leaving the girl standing silently,
The girl took off into the night. Didn't look back. She simply ran, disappearing into the shadows.
"Are you okay?" the driver asked, crouching beside Ronan. Pain radiated from his leg sharp, piercing. He tried to move, but a wave of dizziness and numbness overtook him.
"I… I think my leg…" he muttered, barely managing a whisper.
"Hold still. I'll get you to the hospital."
Ronan's world narrowed to the white walls of the emergency room, the sterile smell, and the antiseptic sting of the nurse's hands. His leg was broken, the doctors confirmed, but no other serious injuries were found.
He could hardly move without pain shooting through his body.
Soon, two police officers arrived to question him.
"Can you describe the incident?" one officer asked, his tone professional but distant.
Ronan swallowed hard. "I fell on the road… I was trying to save a girl. She was being assaulted by two men." His voice was steady, though every word carried strain.
The officer narrowed his eyes. "Anyone to confirm that? Do you have any evidence?"
Ronan shook his head. The girl had run away, and the attackers had vanished. There were no cameras in that alley. All he had was his word.
Another officer sighed, exchanging a look with his partner. "You know, these beggars and tricksters often make up stories to demand money. Probably the same here."
The words cut deep. Ronan felt his chest tighten, anger and helplessness mixing into a suffocating weight.
"I'm telling the truth," he whispered, but they weren't listening.
The officers dismissed his words, nodding to the driver instead. "Well, it seems this is your responsibility now,"
That night, lying in the hospital bed, Ronan stared at the ceiling. The injustice pressed down on him like a tidal wave. He had stepped in to help someone, and this was his reward pain, suspicion, and debt.
The next morning, he was discharged, but not before paying the hospital bill with the last of his savings. His pockets were now empty. As he limped out with crutches, reality hit him harder than the car had.
No money.
Rent overdue.
His part-time job was lost, as he couldn't work while his leg healed. The weight of failure and misfortune pressed down on him, heavier than any physical injury. He walked slowly toward his small room, each step echoing his frustration and despair.
As he approached the traffic signal near his building, he noticed a familiar figure. It was the girl the same one he had tried to save standing beside a young boy. She looked calm now, almost serene, her fear completely vanished. Ronan hesitated, unsure whether he should approach or speak, but before he could make a move, the world around him shifted.
A strange light flickered at the ground beneath their feet. Intricate patterns appeared, glowing like molten silver. It was a magic circle one that pulsed with an energy Ronan couldn't understand. Before he could react, the circle expanded, enveloping him, the girl, the boy. The world dissolved in a flash of light.
When Ronan opened his eyes again, he was no longer on the busy street. Instead, he stood in a vast hall lined with marble pillars. The air smelled of incense and steel, and armored soldiers surrounded them with wary eyes.
Few others stood beside him strangers who looked equally confused and terrified. Including the girl and the boy.
One of the soldiers stepped forward, his armor clinking with authority. "Go and inform His Majesty! Eight outsiders have arrived!"
Another soldier hurried off. The rest tightened their formation, holding spears and swords at the ready.
Ronan's head spun. His injuries still ached, but the pain was dulled, as if the magic had numbed it. He struggled to make sense of the situation. Just moments ago, he had been drowning in despair in his world. And now… this?
The soldier who had spoken earlier looked at them, his stern face breaking into a formal smile. He placed his hand over his chest and bowed slightly.
"Welcome, Heroes, to the Kingdom of Aldoria."
The words echoed in Ronan's ears. Heroes? Him? He could barely save himself, let alone anyone else. Yet here he was, thrust into a new world with strangers, soldiers, and promises of something he couldn't yet comprehend.
For the first time, Ronan's quiet, invisible life was no longer his own. His journey had only just begun.