Chapter One: Ashes Before the Fire
The village of Eldoria was tiny, tucked between the rolling emerald hills and the towering divine mountains that scraped against the heavens. Although the gods governed with an iron fist, the mortals below had sculpted lives of their own—tenuous lives filled with love, labor, and faraway dreams.
Kael took a deep breath, enjoying the night air as he clenched his fingers tighter around the wooden training sword. His father, Thalor, a few paces back, arms folded, regarding him with steady scrutiny.
"*Again,*" Thalor commanded.
Kael advanced and swung at the training dummy, using all his might in the blow. The wood creaked a bit, but his motions were rigid—unpolished.
Thalor let out a weary breath. *"You depend too heavily on violence. Power without restraint results in carelessness."*
Kael let out a rapid breath, rolling his shoulders to release the stress. *"So. more restraint, less muscle?"*
Thalor nodded in approval. *"A sword must feel like an extension of your own body. It is not merely a weapon—it is a tool, a guide. Accuracy is everything."*
Kael adjusted his footing, took a breath, and swung again. This swing was smoother—deadlier.
*"Much better,"* Thalor quipped, a grin still present on his lips. *".if you ever listened the first time, maybe."*
Kael snorted. *"You know, sometimes I believe you're having more fun just telling me stuff than you'd be doing in actual class teaching."*
Thalor laughed. *"You'd be surprised.
Close by, Lyra, Kael's mother, knelt next to a wounded villager—a young boy who had scuffed his leg against jagged stones. She laid her hands upon his wound, her fingers emitting soft golden light as heat seeped through the shredded flesh.
*"Healing isn't necessarily magic,"* Lyra whispered, placing Kael beside her. *"It's recognizing pain before the wound seals."*
Kael stood in silence, captivated by the effortless elegance with which his mother labored. She had always had faith in the goodness of others, even in a world controlled by gods who were not much concerned with mortals.
*Kael!*
Erynn came bursting into the room, eyes shining with excitement. She was always full of energy, always ready to explore, always ready to dream.
*"Come on! The Tower—we must see it!"*
Kael sighed. *"You never cease to dwell on that thing, eh?"*
*"It makes a wish come true, don't it?"* she smiled. *"Perhaps someday, someone will overcome it!"*
Kael laughed, tousling her hair. *"No human has ever climbed to the top, Erynn."*
*"Yet,"* she replied.
Thalor moved forward, arms folded again. *"The Tower of Eternity is not to be underestimated. Each adventurer who has attempted to climb it has fallen short. The gods ensured it."*
Kael's eyes drifted to the distance, where the massive building rose, its top disappearing into clouds. He didn't believe in the gods, not like the villagers did. To him, they were distant, unreachable entities who toyed with human lives like pieces of a chessboard.
He didn't worship them.
And he never would.
The sun dipped lower, covering the sky in red and gold. There was laughter ringing through the village as families sat down to supper, heat seeping into Kael's bones.
It was serene.
A day before the tragedy.