CHRONICLES OF THE LAND OF DREAMS AND MONSTERS

Harrold Orion—who prefers to go simply by "Orion"—has never been ordinary. Raised deep in the wilderness by his stern, enigmatic grandfather, Alexander Orion, he’s a boy forged by the blade and tempered in solitude. While others his age scrolled through their phones and joked in hallways, Orion was learning to survive—splitting wood, hunting game, sharpening steel, and memorizing ancient lessons whispered between the trees. His grandfather, a man seemingly carved from the very forest they inhabited, instilled in him a mantra of vigilance: "Weapons and skills are your friends, boy. Learn to wield them well, and you'll never be helpless. The Land of Dreams doesn’t allow one to stay idle." To Orion, “Dreamland” was nothing more than one of his grandfather’s strange delusions—a fantasy world born from old age and isolation. Monsters, crimson sands, fractured moons, and beasts that could kill with a growl. It all sounded like nonsense... until the day came when it wasn’t. On his eighteenth birthday, Orion wakes alone. No celebration. No cake. Just a note from his grandfather, pinned to the table with a rusted knife, telling him he’d be gone for a few days. Typical. Bitter and brooding, Orion buries his anger in routine—tending the garden, checking the traps, chopping firewood—all the chores that defined his strange, isolated upbringing. He ends the night with a makeshift celebration, a slice of bread topped with whipped cream and a flickering candle, before drifting into sleep, his mind filled with dreams of legendary heroes and the vivid worlds of his favorite fantasy novels. But when he wakes, he’s not in his bed.