"I'm going to the bakery," Alina told Nana, quickly stashing the watering pot where she hoped Nana wouldn't find it. "Do you want me to grab you something on the way?"
It was well past noon, and Nana was already feeling the familiar pull of her daily nap, a new habit she'd adopted since turning sixty. She often joked that she couldn't help feeling drowsy by this time of day, secretly enjoying the fact that she could nap while others were still busy at work.
"It's one of the perks of being older," she'd say with a wink.
Nana waved her hand with a smile, quickly declining Alina's offer before shuffling inside the cottage. Her movements had slowed with age, and it was clear she was already heading straight for the comfort of her bed. The afternoons, she insisted, were reserved for naps—a privilege she had earned.
Alina, on the other hand, still had plenty of energy to spare. The sun hung high in the sky, but her chores were already finished. With a small sigh of satisfaction, she decided it was time for a treat—a fresh pastry from the bakery, warm and waiting. Maybe she'd take her time walking to the square, browsing the colorful market stalls. Perhaps she'd find some herbal teas for Nana's aching back, or maybe new seeds to brighten her garden.
She could already smell fresh pastries in the air, her anticipation growing for the warm treats waiting at the bakery.
Just as Alina was known for her flowers, Thomas, the elderly owner of the bakery, had earned a reputation for his masterful pastries. Each morning, Velora was filled with the irresistible aroma of his fresh-baked goods, making it impossible to pass by without stopping.
She was a bit late today and couldn't help but worry that the fresh pastries might be gone by the time she arrived—especially with so many visitors from outside the village stopping by. It was always a bit of a race against time, but luckily, Thomas knew her well and always set aside a few of her favorites for her. Still, she'd rather not make a habit of it. As much as she appreciated his kindness, she didn't like the idea of him having to save them just for her.
She quickened her pace, and when she arrived at the bakery, she saw only one last pastry left. A spark of competitiveness flared within her, urging her to claim it before anyone else could.
Just as her fingers brushed the warm pastry, another hand shot out, gripping it at the same time. They both froze, caught in a brief, silent standoff.
Alina's gaze lifted to the man in front of her. She wasn't short by any means, and compared to the other ladies in the village, she was among the tallest.
But this man was enormous—easily the tallest person she had ever seen in Velora. His shoulders seemed to dominate the space around him, and the sight made her feel momentarily intimidated.
Still, she straightened her back and held her ground. This was her routine, her small reward for a day's hard work, and she wasn't about to let it slip away.
"I believe I got to it first," Alina said, her voice steady as she flashed the kindest smile she could muster for the potential rival.
The man eyed her with a raised brow, as if the idea of sharing had never crossed his mind. Without a word, he swiftly claimed the pastry, leaving Alina momentarily frozen, surprised by his blatant disregard for manners.
"Hey!" Alina exclaimed, her hand still outstretched, a mix of disbelief and irritation in her voice. She hadn't expected the man to be so bold, so completely dismissive of her presence. "That's mine!"
The man finally glanced at her, his expression unreadable. He didn't respond, but simply took a slow, deliberate bite of the pastry, the audacity of it making Alina's blood boil.
Though visibly annoyed, Alina knew better than to start a fight over a pastry, especially with a man as towering as he was. Causing a scene in the bakery would stir an uproar among the villagers, particularly the elderly, who would surely disapprove. And worse, it could tarnish Velora's peaceful reputation with outsiders who frequented the market.
Alina stood there, watching the man disappear into the crowd, her favorite pastry now little more than a memory.
"I hope he trips on a rock and bumps his head," she muttered under her breath, irritation simmering beneath her calm exterior.
As if he could hear her thoughts, the man glanced back at her over his shoulder. He looked unfazed by her silent curse—almost amused. Alina's eyes narrowed, but she quickly turned her gaze away, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her frustration.
Much to her dismay, Thomas was nowhere to be seen today. Instead, a friendly-looking stranger stood behind the counter—likely one of his acquaintances helping out in his absence. He met her eyes with an apologetic smile, clearly having witnessed the pastry debacle, and offered a quiet, understanding look that made her feel just a bit better.
Though one of her plans had gone terribly wrong, Alina refused to let it ruin her day. It had dampened her mood, yes—but the day was still young. She could always come back to the bakery tomorrow.
That man, on the other hand, was probably just a traveler—someone with only a fleeting chance to taste Thomas's delicacies. The thought almost made her forgive his behavior. Almost.
Alina made her way toward the square, excitement bubbling up again as she wondered what surprises the stalls might have today. Though Velora was tucked far from the Capital, some of the merchants made regular trips there to bring back goods, making the village feel far less remote. There was rarely a need to travel beyond its borders—anything she could possibly want, she could usually find right here in their little corner of the world.
The square was as lively as ever, bustling with familiar faces and the cheerful hum of conversation. But today, something was different.
There were more knights than usual—at least half a dozen she hadn't seen before. It wasn't unheard of for knights to pass through Velora. But this many? All at once?
"Are they here for Thomas's pastries too? They're pretty famous, after all."
But their armor was too polished, their expressions too serious for a regular patrol… or pastry shopping.
A strange unease settled in her stomach. She couldn't say why—only that the peaceful rhythm of the village now felt slightly… off. Like a song that had slipped out of tune, barely noticeable, but impossible to ignore once you heard it.
In Celestia, those born with divine blessings often became knights or mages, chosen for their extraordinary talents. Some wielded powerful magic, while others possessed unmatched skill with weapons. Within Celestia's borders, safety felt like a promise. But beyond them, the world changed.
Dozens of monsters roamed the forgotten corners of the land, and while Alina had never seen one herself, the stories alone were enough to make her shiver. That's why the sight of knights and mages in the square always stirred something in her—part awe, part unease. They were protectors, yes, but also a reminder that danger was never as far away as it seemed.
"I heard a Celestia Knight's commander just returned to the Capital yesterday after killing the last of Stormholt's monsters!"
The voice cut through the chatter of the square, drawing Alina's attention. She turned to see two villagers huddled together, speaking in excited whispers.
Though Celestia's borders were a sanctuary for most, a few regions—like Stormholt—remained battlegrounds, where peace was still a fragile hope rather than a promise.
Stormholt, a land once ravaged by violent storms and prowling monsters, sat at the very edge of the kingdom, near the line where the darkness had once crept in.
Some said the storms in Stormholt weren't natural at all—that they were a reflection of the chaos and violence that had plagued the land for generations. Monsters roamed freely, often venturing close to villages and leaving the people in constant fear.
"Five years of fighting, and it's really over?" the second villager muttered, shaking his head with skepticism. "How can they be so certain there aren't any monsters left?"
"Well, they're gifted people, aren't they?" the first villager replied with a shrug. "I'm sure they know better than us ordinary folk."
There were all kinds of monsters, and nowadays, they served as grim reminders of the darkness that had once spread across the land—remnants of humanity's greatest enemies: the dragons.
Alina had seen plenty of drawings of dragons—massive, winged beasts that once ruled the skies. They could breathe fire hot enough to turn entire villages to ash in seconds or crush people beneath their claws with terrifying ease. Even in pictures, they looked powerful and merciless, the kind of creature born from nightmares.
She had lived her whole life wrapped in the peace and safety of Celestia's borders, where the horrors of the outside world felt like distant tales. So, imagining what it was like to stand against monsters—to face them head-on as the knights and mages did—was impossible. It was a life of courage, danger, and sacrifice, one she respected deeply but could never quite picture herself living.
Alina tucked a stray curl behind her ear and gave herself a little shake. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop. And really, she had no reason to worry. Velora had always been safe.
She adjusted her basket and began weaving her way through the crowd. She smiled and waved as she passed familiar faces—a pair of old men arguing cheerfully over the price of turnips, the blacksmith's youngest chasing pigeons, their giggles ringing out as they darted between the market stalls.
Alina then settled at a nearby stall, her fingers brushing against a bundle of dried lavender, the sweet, calming scent filling the air as she admired the delicate purple sprigs. She paused for a moment, inhaling deeply, and felt a small sense of peace settle over her, just as it always did when surrounded by the familiar, comforting aromas of the village.
But then, she felt it—a shiver down her spine, a sense of being watched. Her heart skipped a beat, and she glanced up, almost unwillingly.
In the shadow of a narrow alley, a pair of red eyes gleamed in the dim light. They were cold, calculating—piercing through the bustling market, locking onto her with unnerving precision.
For a brief moment, everything around her faded—the laughter, the chatter, the scent of fresh herbs—all of it blurred, leaving her with nothing but that unsettling gaze. A knot twisted in her stomach, and all of a sudden, she couldn't breathe.
She blinked, but when her eyes reopened, the figure was gone. It had melted into the shadows, disappearing as if it had never been there at all. Alina stood frozen, her body stiff, unable to move. The air around her felt thick, as if the world itself had slowed to a crawl.
Her heart raced in her chest, and her senses hummed with the lingering weight of that gaze, burning in the back of her mind.
"It must be nothing." She forced herself to look away, but the unease clung to her. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.