Morning sunlight filtered through Lunewood's tower windows, painting the old wooden floors in warm gold. Birds chirped. Mana flowed gently through the air.
And somewhere in the academy courtyard… chaos barked.
"Rorio, stop chasing the mana wisp! You're going to—"
BOOM.
Lucien sighed, rubbing his temples as a column of sparkling blue smoke shot up from the courtyard. "—explode something. You always explode something."
From within the smoke, a golden blur bounded out — Rorio, tail wagging proudly, fur slightly singed but eyes shining.
"Woof!"
Lucien raised an eyebrow. "You're proud of yourself, aren't you?"
"Wo—Wait… wait, I… can… talk!?"
Lucien froze mid-breath.
Rorio froze, too.
Then both stared at each other.
Lucien blinked slowly. "Did… did you just—?"
"I talked," Rorio blurted, voice deep and smooth yet utterly incredulous. "I actually talked. Oh, wow, I have words! I can complain! Master, do you know how long I've wanted to say how boring sitting still is—?"
Lucien was grinning before Rorio could finish. "Oh, this is amazing. Finally, someone intelligent to talk to."
"Hey!" Aria's voice shouted from the nearby doorway. "What exploded—"
She stopped cold at the sight: a golden retriever sitting upright, mouth open mid-sentence.
Rorio turned to her politely. "Good morning, Aria. Lovely weather. Your hair's on fire, by the way."
"MY WHAT—!?"
She yelped, patting her head frantically until the faint ember fizzled out. "What—how—dogs—DOGS DON'T TALK!"
Lucien clapped his hands delightedly. "Ah, correction! Most dogs don't. Rorio here simply achieved enlightenment through… excessive cuteness and exposure to my presence."
"I DON'T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING ANYMORE!" Aria screamed.
Rorio wagged his tail happily. "That makes two of us. But on the bright side, I can finally order steak."
By noon, the entire village knew.
"The dog talks."
"The golden one? The divine-looking one?"
"Yes, that one. He just asked me for directions to the nearest bakery."
Lucien reclined lazily on the academy steps, sipping tea that materialized from thin air. Rorio sat beside him, head high, clearly basking in his newfound celebrity.
Aria stood nearby, muttering. "You've officially broken reality."
Lucien smiled serenely. "Reality was getting stale. It needed a bit of seasoning."
Rorio nodded sagely. "Also, Master said if I'm going to talk, I might as well do it with style."
Aria groaned. "You're both insane."
"Correct," Lucien said. "But we're charmingly insane."
Eldon approached, stroking his beard with fascination. "A talking beast…! That's a phenomenon unheard of since the First Age. Lucien, did you—?"
Lucien raised his teacup. "Eldon, my dear friend, do you really think I'd meddle with natural law for mere amusement?"
"Yes."
Lucien grinned. "Good answer."
That afternoon, the peace was shattered again — this time by the sound of galloping horses and trumpets.
"By decree of the Royal Academy of Magic!" a loud voice shouted from the village square. "We seek the one known as Aria Valen!"
Aria paled. "Wha—why me?!"
A group of armored mages dismounted, banners flapping. At their front stood a handsome young man with silver hair, polished armor, and the smug aura of someone who thought destiny personally complimented his reflection.
Lucien whispered to Rorio, "And here comes the plot."
"Plot?" Rorio asked, tail wagging.
"Fated hero," Lucien explained. "You can tell from the lighting. See how the sunlight just happened to glint on his armor dramatically?"
"Oh wow, you're right," Rorio said. "Should we clap?"
Lucien grinned. "Let's see what he does first."
The silver-haired youth stepped forward, eyes locking on Aria. "You there! Are you Aria Valen, the fire mage?"
Aria blinked. "Uh, yes?"
He nodded proudly. "Then by the will of prophecy, you are to accompany me! The Seer has named you my destined companion!"
A murmur swept through the villagers.
Lucien's smirk widened. "Ah, the chosen one cliché. Delicious."
Aria looked baffled. "Destined—what now?"
The young man raised his hand, striking a heroic pose. "I am Ryn Althas, heir to the Northern Dukedom and bearer of the Starbrand Sigil! It is foretold that I will save this realm from the coming Cataclysm."
Lucien whispered, "Rorio, did he just say Cataclysm?"
Rorio whispered back, "Yup. Capital C. He's serious."
Lucien's grin turned wicked. "Oh, I like him already."
Aria stammered, "Uh, I think you've got the wrong girl! I'm just a small-town mage!"
"Nonsense," Ryn said with noble confidence. "Fate guided me here. The signs are clear!"
Lucien stood, brushing imaginary dust off his coat. "Well, since Fate's being so chatty today, mind if I introduce myself?"
Ryn looked him up and down. "And you are?"
Lucien bowed slightly. "Lucien. Simple traveler. Amateur philosopher. Professional meddler."
The young man frowned. "Meddler?"
Rorio trotted up beside Lucien. "Talking dog," he added helpfully.
Ryn blinked. "Your dog talks?"
Lucien sighed theatrically. "Yes, yes, he's very talented. Would you like an autograph?"
"I—what?"
Before Ryn could respond, Rorio tilted his head. "So, Hero Guy, what's your big plan? Kill evil? Rescue maidens? Dramatically monologue under thunderstorms?"
Ryn straightened proudly. "To unite the kingdoms, vanquish the coming darkness, and restore balance to magic itself."
Lucien nodded solemnly. "Ah. Classic trilogy plot."
"Trilo—what?"
"Nothing," Lucien said quickly. "So, the prophecy led you here, specifically?"
"Yes," Ryn declared. "To this village, to find my destined companions."
Lucien's smile was serene, but his eyes glimmered with mischief. "Fascinating. Tell me, Ryn… what would happen if, say, fate decided to change its mind?"
Ryn frowned. "Fate doesn't change."
Lucien's grin sharpened. "Oh, you'd be surprised."
Later that evening, while the "Hero Party" rested in the square, Lucien sat under the stars, stroking Rorio's head thoughtfully.
"Master," Rorio said quietly, "you're going to mess with him, aren't you?"
Lucien's smirk could've lit the night. "Mess with? No, no, Rorio. Guide him. Inspire him. Maybe… accidentally trip him into a puddle of destiny and watch the ripples."
Rorio sighed fondly. "You're smiling like a villain again."
Lucien chuckled. "I'm a creator. Villainy is just creative enthusiasm."
A flicker of light danced over his fingers — pure cosmic essence, invisible to mortal eyes. He waved it lazily, watching as faint threads of fate twisted in the air, their colors shifting around Ryn's sleeping form in the distance.
Rorio tilted his head. "What are you doing?"
"Just nudging probabilities," Lucien said lightly. "Tiny adjustments. Maybe he'll meet a dragon tomorrow. Maybe it'll sneeze on him. Who knows?"
Rorio barked in laughter. "You're terrible."
"Thank you."
The next morning, Ryn and his entourage prepared to leave, with Aria reluctantly tagging along.
Lucien approached them with a charming smile. "Well, good luck, oh Hero of Prophecy. Try not to trip over narrative tension."
Ryn blinked. "What?"
Lucien waved. "You'll understand after the third act."
Rorio trotted up beside him. "Bye! Don't forget to feed your horses."
As the group rode off, Lucien watched them vanish down the trail. Then, he looked down at Rorio with an impish grin.
"Wanna bet how long before fate reroutes him back to us?"
Rorio grinned right back. "Two days. Maybe three if he gets lost."
Lucien chuckled. "You're learning the pacing of stories well."
When night fell, Lucien stood once more atop the tower, the stars reflecting in his blue eyes.
"This world is waking up," he murmured. "Threads of magic tightening. Fate is trying to assert itself."
Rorio sat beside him, tail thumping. "And you're going to keep poking it."
"Of course," Lucien said, smiling faintly. "What fun is creation if you can't play with it a little?"
He looked out toward the distant horizon — toward the kingdoms, the academies, the hidden sanctuaries of higher realms waiting above this one.
"From lower world to higher," he whispered, voice soft but echoing with power. "We'll climb. We'll stir. And when this world learns who I am…"
He smirked, eyes gleaming with that same impossible light.
"…it'll be far too late to stop me."
Rorio wagged his tail. "Can I at least have snacks along the way?"
Lucien laughed. "Always, my dear talking glutton. Always."
And thus, the 'Fated Hero' rode toward his destiny… utterly unaware that destiny itself was laughing just over his shoulder, sipping tea, and traveling with a talking dog.