Prologue

For those who fantasize about adventures, exploring the unknown, and overcoming dangers, those fantasies may be just that, but for me, they are as real as going to sleep at night and waking up in the morning. Have I piqued your interest? Good! My adventure begins 32 years back, on a bright summer solstice morning.

At the time, I was living on the outskirts of Willow Forest with my two elder siblings Clime and Hector, as well as our father Leon. The forest itself was a dangerous and difficult environment to live near, with numerous predatory animals inhabiting territories.

Nonetheless, since we were children, our father has taught us that living in a small village is the most unsafe place to be; "You are safer when you put yourself in a danger that you can overcome, than in a danger of what you are not aware of, or strong enough to fight against." he used to say.

It is well known that bandits frequently raid settlements, killing or enslaving everyone; normally, pretty girls are left unharmed, but they wish they weren't.

He built his house near to the forest, but yet close to the settlement where he met our mother 15 years ago; as a retired mercenary who had gone through many circumstances, he knew how to stay hidden.

When it came to my personal life, I was the family's black sheep. I wasn't mistreated, or at the very least, I wasn't shown that I had been. During a typical day, my primary responsibility was ironically to see after the 6 sheep we kept for milk, meat, and fur.

The work wasn't difficult by itself, but crossing from the outskirts of the forest to the other side of it over a narrow walkway while seeing that no sheep were lost, eaten, or from what I could tell, I myself wasn't eaten, it put a lot of pressure on me.

Our house was relatively hidden by trees and bushes that had grown pretty tall being close to the old forest; but it was the only cover we had and we couldn't let the animals feed around since would leave traces; thus, the only option was the creepy dark forest where the wind didn't blow, you could not see past 50 meters due to the thick vegetation, and you could swear that someone or something is watching your every step.

Old tales father used to say, told about big wars between the Dorumen Kingdom, the one we live in, and other neighbours a century ago. In the tales, the neighbouring kingdoms were also fighting between each other for this kingdom's land.

During this time, thousands of folks were sheltering in this forest, scared of being killed by the invading forces; but no one returned, not even one.

Of course, he also told us tales of how he once slew a dragon, which everyone knows doesn't exist, or how he killed 10 people while having an injured hand. I couldn't trust what he said at that time, however, somehow the forest's tale seemed to bother me.