Terrifying Nightmare

In the hushed confines of Frostwood, I observed my master engaged in an intense conversation with a stranger. Curiosity gnawed at me, compelling me to eavesdrop on their clandestine dialogue. In my attempt to draw nearer, an unforeseen obstacle—a tree—intervened. I collided with it, my forearm taking the brunt, and a yelp escaped my lips.

The stranger, sensing my presence, descended gracefully from the sky and landed near me. His gaze, piercing and inscrutable, seemed to penetrate the depths of my soul. A laugh escaped his lips before he turned to my master, suggesting a more private conversation. My master, though hesitant, eventually gestured toward our hut.

As they entered, the stranger halted me, instructing me to gather berries. Obliging, I ventured into the forest, thoughts swirling about the mysterious man. Upon my return, on the verge of knocking, I overheard a snippet—the stranger mentioning my potential at his academy. The pieces fell into place—Sunblade Varian, perhaps a professor, an old friend of my master.

I entered cautiously, my master scolding me for eavesdropping. Seated at the table, across from my master and beside the enigmatic Varian, we exchanged greetings.

**Master:** "Grey, this is an old friend of mine, a director of an academy that teaches magic and other things. His name is Sunblade Varian."

Few months passed, Varian's visits became a regular occurrence, bringing fragments of the outside world with him. Yet, as my 16th birthday approached, an unsettling absence lingered.

On that fateful day, Varian's absence persisted past noon. Worried, I sought my master but found only silence. Then, the world turned monochrome, and my master appeared before me, battered and broken.

**Master:** "Grey, you have to run. Run far away to Veradale's capital. Find Mr. Varian, trust him with everything."

In a strained voice, he handed me the black cane, a token for mastering swordsmanship. He teleported me near the base of a snowy peak, imparting final instructions:

**Master:** "Never reveal Astrum to outsiders. Learn to wield mana. Trust Varian. Enroll in his academy.And take care of yourself"

With those words, we parted, and I screamed, awakening from a dream that felt more like a haunting premonition.

I woke up from a scary dream in a dark cave surrounded by snowy mountains. Remembering my master's death and my journey to Veradale's capital, Vael, I packed up my things. It was still nighttime outside, just a few hours left till sunrise.

As I stepped out of the cave, an arrow zoomed past me. I didn't know who shot it, and I wasn't sure about using Astrum to defend myself. Four people showed up, looking cautious.

"Who are you?" one of them asked.

Instead of answering, I stayed silent with a serious look. They got defensive, but then I realized something.

"I'm trying to reach Veradale Kingdom," I stated.

They exchanged looks and grinned.

"Well, you're in luck. We're on our way to Veradale. You can come with us," said the leader.

It was a chance, but I had to be careful. Just as I was about to agree, the leader added,

"But you have to help us with some things."

I thought for a moment and then said, "Okay."

The journey with my newfound companions began under the veil of night, each step echoing with uncertainty. Thorne, the leader, along with Kael, Jarek, and Ren, were seasoned adventurers affiliated with the guild, returning from a mission, heading to Veradale to receive their hard-earned payment.

As we traversed through the snowy forest, Thorne explained our shared destination—Veradale. The conversation veered towards our experiences, and each adventurer recounted their most memorable tales.

One night, amid the icy forest, we gathered around a crackling campfire. Shadows danced on the snow-covered ground as the flames painted a warm glow.

**Thorne:** "Years back, I faced the legendary Ice Wyrm in the Frostpeak Mountains. Its breath could freeze a man in an instant. We barely made it out alive."

**Kael:** "Ah, the frost wolves. I remember a night when we were outnumbered, surrounded by their icy breath. Had to outsmart them using the terrain. Cunning beats numbers."

**Jarek:** "There was this colossal ice golem in the northern peaks. We stumbled upon it guarding an ancient ruin. A fierce battle ensued, and it took all our might to chip away at its frozen defenses."

**Ren:** "Magic is a delicate dance. Once, we encountered a rogue sorcerer wielding both fire and ice. My mastery over the arcane proved crucial, unraveling his spells and turning the tide."

As the stories unfolded, the icy silence of the forest became a canvas for the tales that intertwined our destinies.