He was a boy, walking through lands of endless wheat fields, where the wind brushed against golden crops and made the whole world look softer than it truly was. He grew up fast, far faster than any child should have, joining the military to serve his great king before he even understood what kind of life he was offering away.
He fought in war.
Blades clashed against blades, screams filled the air, and balls of fire scorched his friends into nothing but ash before his eyes. He used magic too, though his magic was weak, unworthy of such battles, barely enough to call himself a practitioner in the first stage of the Magic Soul.
The Spark Realm.
