Magic. Magic is the very essence of a world. It is a medium for the 'blessed ones' to communicate with the world's will. However, not everyone can get access to it.

Nozark was one such world. Since the beginning of time, it was home to all kinds of species. Dragons run rampant and created chaos and destruction, wreaking havoc across countries in their path whilst Elves lived in relative peace in their kingdom away from the others. Barbarians were one war-hungry race while Dryads protected the forests. Humans hunted down the monsters whereas monsters ate humans alike.

The species which were one with nature benefited the most; Dragons being the most proficient in elemental energy while Elves loved the natural energy.

Mana was the energy of this world in its raw form, non-corrupted and untamed. Channeling the world's mana was like communicating with the world, a manifestation of one's very own will. And it worked wonders.

Tens of thousands of years ago, humans learned to control and use mana for the first time and stood alongside other species. Countless legends were created; magic engineering reached its peak. Humanity reached new heights of prosperity as time passed. Mages wielded fate-defying power, being able to challenge the 'Gods'.

As they say, Greed and Arrogance is the biggest enemy of human. The 'Great War' dragged on for a millennial and ended with the fall of humanity. Filled with despair and hope for a better tomorrow, the humans once again started building society from scratch. Humans were no longer worthy to stand toe-to-toe with 'Other Beings'.

And times passed. A new Era was approaching, hopefully, a better one

. . . . .

In a distant plane of existence in another universe

*click*

"This shot isn't good either. Looks like the weather today is not good for taking pictures. Tsk."

A boy, seemingly 20 years of age, was mumbling on a hilltop while checking his camera. It was a cloudy day while the sun still cast a faint yellow light through the slowly gathering evening. The boy watched as the horizon drained of color and a cold breeze blew.

With nothing more to do, the boy started packing his bag. Chris was a 20-year-old university student who was out camping in the mountains for his winter break. Having lost his parents at birth, he was raised by his grandparents in the countryside. While growing up, he used to assist his grandfather in working in the fields. Slowly but surely, he started falling in love with nature and its beauty.

When his grandparents passed on too, the panoramic lush green hills, the undisturbed and peaceful meadow, or the glassy and dazzling surface of a lake gave him happiness and a sense of belonging to Chris. Being an orphan and alone had its charm. You could do anything without any repercussions.

So when he moved to University, he missed his time with nature. Busy with classes and studies, he rarely had the time to enjoy nature. That's why the semester breaks were important for him.

"It's getting late now. I better hurry". After packing his bags, he walked toward his bike. It was a second-hand bike he bought with the money his grandparents left behind. Although not much, it was enough to supplement his wanderer lifestyle.

By the time he was out of the hilly area and on the open mountain road, the evening was crisp already; the last of the sunset was just a fading pale stripe in the western sky. A harsh winter wind blew out and thrashed the brooking forest.

Chris took the mountainous picturesque scenery into his view, enjoying his bike ride while singing his favorite song.

Suddenly the weather changed as small white droplets started falling from the grey sky. It was the first snow of this season and his own life. The countryside had warm weather so he never got to experience snow in person. This was the first time in his life, that he was enjoying snowfall in person.

As he was lost in the moment, he suddenly noticed a blinking light from the corner of his eyes. A car had suddenly come from the steep turn on the mountain road.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!". While cursing, Chris pressed the brakes to slow down the bike and clear a path for the speeding car. However, the snow had created a slippery path on which the bike slipped without stopping. The bike hit the defensive rails on the sideways, breaking them, and went down the mountain slope with Chris on it.

After a continuous fall which seemed like a never-ending roll, it hit a small rock.

An hour had passed as Chris just lay there. With broken bones and intense pain, it proved very difficult to move. The snow was piling around him, colored in the blood which flowed from injuries.

"Hahaha, at least I was able to enjoy my first snowfall. This trip was well worth it". A weak laugh stifled out of Chris's mouth. It was a good life, albeit a short one. He never met his parents but his grandparent's love made up for it. His only regret was not able to fully travel the world and enjoy its beauty and mysteries.

He felt weak in his body and started falling asleep. 'If only he could be a wanderer in his next life; traveling the world, enjoying its beauties.

There was no pain in death, only a little bit of regret and a hopeful wish.

o-x-o

The sun was setting in the east casting a red hue across the world.

An old man was trudging along the stony path of the mountains. It was the routine time to collect water from the stream flowing from the mountains. The green meadow bathed in the humid light of the sinking sun against the fading layers of orange and yellow.

It had been a routine for the old man to go to the mountain stream every evening to collect water for the day. Today was no different.

“Hah, I am getting old. It is getting more difficult to walk the path with each passing day”. The old man complained to himself as he walked.

Slowly, the stream appeared in front of him. As we went towards the stream, he took the surrounding view into his eyes.

“I made a good decision by settling here after retiring”, he said with a smile blooming on his face.

The evening fog gave the lake an ethereal appearance while the stream's surface sparkled. He stopped at the side and started filling the water bucket. Being the only person, a single bucked of water was enough for him to last a day.

While filling the water bucked, he saw a basket stuck among rocks at the bank.

“Idiots. How can someone throw their waste into the water? Don’t they have any regard for nature and people living downstream?” While complaining in his haggard voice, he put the bucket aside and stood up.

“I am tired of cleaning after other people’s wastes”. He went to the rocky area to pull the basket out of the water. Irritated, he made his way to the basket. As he moved closed, the contents of basked became visible.

“O Dear God!” he loudly exclaimed, surprised by what he saw. There was an infant in the basket.

“O’ Mother Earth, what kind of heathens abandon their child like this?” The old man said, raging with fury. A parent abandoning their child was unthinkable for him, especially more so because he never had a child, to begin with.

He carefully picked up the infant in his arms and the bubbled rage calmed down when he saw the innocent child, giggling at a stranger. The infant seemed to be a 4-5-month-old boy with blue eyes.

“God won’t forgive those who abandoned you in this condition” As warmth filled his heart, he complained. The baby was swaddled in cloth, while a pendant hung from his neck. “You are safe with me now”.

Carrying the baby in his arms, the old man made his way back. Filled with happiness and excitement, he forgot why he came to the stream in the first place, leaving the bucket behind.

After an hour of walking on the stony path, the man reached an old farmhouse. A weather-beaten slat cottage sat at the far end of a mostly brown lawn; the wood silvered by the sun, roof shingles warped.

As there was no one to welcome his arrival, without hesitation, he opened the door and entered the cottage.

“You must be feeling cold. Let me heat the place,” Worried about the baby’s health, the old man quickly went to the fireplace to light some fire. Very soon, warmth spread across the hall.

The old man quickly went to the kitchen to get some milk for the baby. He knew the baby was starving and might die if not fed.

Morgan was a hundred-year-old retired Knights Commander. He had spent all his life protecting the aristocracy that he didn’t get the time for himself. Due to the risk of his job, he didn’t marry at first and when he grew older, marriage seemed like a waste of time to him.

When he finally retired from old age, he was awarded a piece of land on the outskirts of the Aston Kingdom where he set up his farmhouse. At first, life seemed to be good, full of peace and relaxation. However, as time passed, the loneliness became unbearable. For the first time in his life, Morgan regretted not getting married. Whenever he saw families with little kids enjoying the city market, he felt envious and sad. In such times, the baby was a God-send for him.

When he saw the baby, he felt his heart melt. He now had a newfound purpose in his life. He slowly held the baby and bought a milk bottle to his mouth. He guided the bottle to the baby’s lips and the baby drank a little bit.

“How was it? Was it tasty? Do you need more?” When the baby didn’t say anything, he put the bottle down.

“Do you have a name?” Being inexperienced with kids, he wanted to talk to the child more. But all he ever got was silence. Curiously, he checked the pendant for any clues, but it seemed like a normal pendant to him.

“So they abandoned you but decided to leave a pendant. Hah. What did they want to achieve by this? Your parents didn’t even name you,” Morgan felt irritated again whenever he thought about the baby’s parents.

“Since I was the one who found you, I will raise you as my son. Since I found you by the stream, your name will be Vance. Do you like it, son?” Morgan felt gleeful and happy when he named the infant Vance.

o-x-o

Somewhere in a distant land.

Amid a dark valley stood a majestic castle with its gates shut. The moonlight fell upon the thick cobblestone walls, leaving stark, vivid shadows while four towers stood at the top, giving a sense of power and control.

The insides of the castle were cold and humid, looking like cold-black murder valleys. One of the rooms was lit up, a round table sat at the center of the room. Atop settled a glistening grey ball while someone clad in black with a veiled face sat on the opposite chair.

“Velecto Padri”

With these words uttered, the grey ball started gleaming and a set of runes slowly appeared.

‘The day legend becomes history, a proposition shall usher forth the rise of a kingdom; a marked child shall bring a cursed age with the rise of a new god and an age of warlords.’