Vel looked at the gray, muted sky from his doorstep. The crisp morning air brushed against his small frame as the first light crept across the horizon.
Part of him still hoped that one morning he would wake up in his own bed, in his own world. But the more he looked around—the wooden houses, the distant smoke from cooking fires, the faint hum of villagers beginning their day—the less likely that hope felt.
He sat quietly, his hands on his knees, while his mind replayed the conversation from last night with Kazar.
---
(Vel's flashback)
"We will speak with Kazar first," the Seer had said, his tone calm but resolute. "The villagers hold her words in high regard. If we can convince her, the rest may follow."
Vel followed silently down the dirt path. Kazar's hut stood at the village edge, herbs hanging from its thatched roof. She sat before a low flame; its flicker lit her face.
"Seer," Kazar greeted, voice low and gravelly. "I didn't expect visitors at this hour. What brings you?"
The Seer stepped forward, his presence steady despite his age. "The portal grows unstable," he said, his tone firm. "The adventurers may not succeed. We must prepare the village for what is to come."
Kazar raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. "You speak as if their failure is certain. Do you doubt the Guild's competence?"
"It is not doubt but prudence," the Seer replied. "The portal festers. Tir showed me shadow thickening at its rim—what waits within presses closer. If we delay, it will be too late to act."
Kazar rubbed her chin, gaze drifting toward the fire. "We can't abandon our homes just because the wind feels wrong."
Vel, unable to stay quiet, stepped forward. "It's not just a feeling! It's real!" he blurted out, his voice trembling with urgency. "The Chief ran because he knew something bad was coming!"
Kazar's eyes locked on him, sharp and assessing. "The Chief's fear is his own," she said slowly. "And while your concern is admirable, boy, fear alone cannot move a village."
The Seer's tone grew firmer. "This is not mere fear, Kazar. The signs are clear."
Kazar's expression darkened, a flicker of conflict crossing her face. She glanced toward the silent houses, the faint sounds of life within carrying on as if nothing were wrong.
"The villagers are not cowards," she said at last. "But they are stubborn. To move them now, without proof, would bring panic and division. The adventurers are our hope. We must trust their strength."
"And if they fail?" Vel asked softly.
Kazar's gaze softened as she looked at him. "If they fail... then the villagers will listen. But only then." She leaned forward slightly. "Remember this, child: people cling to the familiar, even in the face of ruin. Change comes only when the fire burns too close."
Silence held for a breath. Kazar kept her eyes on the flame; the Seer's beads clicked once. Vel bit back what he wanted to say and stepped back.
The Seer inclined his head. "Thank you for your time, Kazar," he said quietly.
The Seer placed a hand on Vel's shoulder.
"We've done what we can. The rest will come in time."
---
Vel blinked as the memory faded.
The alley opened into the village square. Almost empty. He looked at the damp earth. Then at his small hand.
What can I actually do?
What if Von—my "supposed" father—doesn't come back?
Vel'd known this family only days, yet something deeper pulled at him—he wanted them safe.
He gazed at the empty space for a heartbeat. The realization hit.
Magic.
This was his world—an intricate, system‑driven arcane design. If he could harness that, his small body wouldn't matter.
Vel stood, determination and a tremor of excitement sparking in his chest. How could he forget something this important? He knew the system, the fundamentals beneath every spell.
He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes.
With careful focus, he reached for that mental image, tracing out a spell in his mind.
He opened his eyes and extended a hand toward an empty patch of ground.
Nothing happened.
Vel blinked, disappointment crashing over him. He tried again, envisioning every detail as vividly as possible.
Again, nothing.
Frustration welled up inside him like an angry storm cloud ready to burst.
Think, Vel urged himself. You created this system.
Vel slumped back against the steps, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. Of course—he'd built the framework, designed how magic should work, but never filled in the actual words of power. Back in development, players just clicked buttons to cast spells. The system handled everything else automatically.
Here though, in this living, breathing world, those gaps mattered. The principles remained sound—the flow of mana, the spirit calculations, the elemental alignments—but without knowing the proper incantations, it was like trying to compile code with missing function calls.
He exhaled sharply. Even if he could piece together some semblance of magic, there was no guarantee this child's body would be harness it effectively.
Vel sat on the wooden steps, staring at the ground, his mind racing through a tangled mess of thoughts.
What to do?
He had faced countless challenges in coding before. Break it down, he whispered to himself, recalling the late nights spent debugging lines of code. One big problem often became a collection of smaller ones when examined closely enough.
With a heavy sigh, Vel threw his weight back against the cool wood of the steps and slumped down to sit on the floor. His body felt heavier than it should have, fatigue gnawing at him from within.
"I need to learn to read."
That was the only starting point. Words formed the basis of spells; without them, he'd remain trapped in confusion—a prisoner within this world of potential magic he couldn't access.
He had to act, and the first step was clear.
"Lan-neechan!" He called out, his voice echoing against the wooden beams of their home.
Landre emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She smiled warmly at him, but Vel noticed a hint of curiosity in her eyes.
"What is it, Vel?"
"I want to learn to write." The words tumbled out with unexpected urgency.
Landre's expression shifted from surprise to delight. "Really? Right now?"
Vel nodded, feeling a swell of hope. "Can you teach me?"
"Of course! Just give me a moment." She disappeared back into the house and returned holding a worn book bound in faded leather. Its pages were yellowed with age, filled with elegant script and sketches that captivated Vel's imagination.
Landre settled beside him, carefully opening the worn leather book. The pages crackled softly as she turned them, revealing neat rows of handwritten text.
"Here," she pointed to the first page. "Let's start with these."
Her finger traced over a line of symbols. Each one held a different shape - some curved like waves, others sharp and angular. Vel leaned closer, drinking in every detail. These weren't just letters anymore - they were keys to unlocking the magic system he'd created.
"This one makes the 'ah' sound," Landre demonstrated, sketching the character in the dirt with a stick. "Try scribbling it."
Vel gripped his own stick, attempting to mimic her fluid motions. His first line wobbled; the second held.
"That's better!" Landre's eyes lit up. "See how the line curves here?" She guided his hand, helping him form the correct shape.
They worked through several more characters, Landre's patience never wavering as she corrected his attempts. Each symbol slowly became clearer in Vel's mind, though his child-sized hands struggled to form them perfectly.
"Look - you can combine them like this." She demonstrated, writing a simple word. "It means 'light'."
Vel's fingers trembled slightly as he copied it, each stroke potentially bringing him closer to accessing the magic system.
"Very good!" Landre clapped her hands together. "You're learning quickly!"
Landre leaned against the rough wall and set the worn book on her knee. Her thumb ran along the cracked spine before she met Vel's eyes. Hours of letters had left them tired.
"Let's take a break." She closed the book with a soft thump and nudged his shoulder with it.
Vel nodded, the new letters still in his head. "Um… can I ask something?" He watched the candle flicker, then steady. "Do you know about magic?"
She smiled, then softened. "Magic? Mm… a little—mostly from stories." She leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. "People say you have to be 'attuned'—like a door and a key, I think."
"A door?" Vel frowned.
"I've heard some start showing signs around a certain age… and many never do." She tapped the page edge with a nail. "Some try little rituals to 'unlock' it—but that's just stories." She paused, then added, "A few are born with it—people call them the gifted."
"The gifted?" Vel echoed, playing along.
"They're supposed to be special—like it just works for them. That's what people say." Her thumb pressed on the cracked leather.
She gave a small laugh and straightened up. "Still, I wish I had a bit of it."
"Why do you want to be able to use magic?" Vel asked.
Landre blinked, then smiled. "Vel… who wouldn't? Magic makes life easier—people listen, doors open." Her tone turned earnest. "For me… I want to become a Saint. With magic, I could actually help—our village, our family." She hugged the book closer. "And maybe… we could live somewhere better."
Vel sat a little straighter; the idea of magic helping them tugged at him.
"Do you think… that you can become a Saint one day?"
Her smile reached her eyes. She nodded. "I have to believe it."
---
Vel leaned against the wall, his mind still buzzing with thoughts of magic and Landre's aspirations. Suddenly, the noise from the village square jolted him from his reverie. Shouts and frantic murmurs filled the air, growing louder and more urgent.
Vel dashed toward the door, pushing it open with a creak that echoed through the stillness of their home.
Villagers clustered in the square, eyes wide, faces pale. Vel slipped through the crowd, his heart thudding. The sight ahead chilled him.
The adventurers had returned—broken. Clara lay unconscious, her armor twisted and torn, one arm gone. Bestiel and Honka staggered beside her, straining to hold her up.
"What happened?" Vel breathed.
Bestiel's voice rose over the murmur. "If you'd just followed Clara's orders—"
Honka snapped back, fists tight at his sides. "You think I wanted this? You don't know what we faced!"
"Clara is Platinum Rank! Even she couldn't stand against that thing," Bestiel shot back. "What did you think you were doing? She had to step in to save you!"
Honka's hand shot out. He grabbed Bestiel by the collar and lifted him a little off the ground. "Watch your mouth."
They glared, the air tight around them.
"Enough." Mora's voice cut through. She stepped between them, hands up. "We take care of Clara first."
Vel's stomach sank as Von shouted from the edge of the crowd. "Kazar! The shaman—now!"
They carried Clara away. The villagers' whispers followed them like a wave. Landre stood frozen beside Vel, fingers tight on his sleeve.
"What did they face?" she whispered.
Vel stared after them, dread settling heavily in his stomach. This was what he had feared since yesterday—the warnings from the Seer had not been mere superstition but a grim reality unfolding before him. Vel's predictions about danger materialized right there in front of him.
---
Vel stepped into Kazar's hut, the heavy scent of herbs and damp earth engulfing him. Dim light filtered through the small window, casting shadows that danced across the walls. Clara lay on a makeshift bed, her body wrapped in bandages. A palpable tension filled the room, with Von, Honka, Bestiel, and Mora huddled around her.
"Father, what happened?" Vel asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Von's brow furrowed as he glanced down at Clara, uncertainty clouding his expression.
"The adventurers... they took some time in the portal. Then they all came rushing out."
He hesitated, looking to each of the others for support. "Two of them were carrying Clara out—she was injured."
"Wulfangs," Honka interjected, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Not the normal kind. This one was big."
Bestiel's frustration boiled over. "If you weren't so full of yourself and had listened to Clara—"
"We need to get out of here! There's something way worse heading our way!" - Vel insisted
Mora shook her head, disbelief etched across her face. The room fell silent. They looked at him like he was just a kid spouting nonsense.
"You don't understand!" Vel insisted, voice rising with urgency. "Even the Chief has run away!"
Von's eyes widened in shock. "The Chief is gone? Where?"
He paused briefly before rushing out of the hut, urgency fueling his steps as he sought more information about their leader.
The remaining adventurers exchanged anxious glances. Bestiel clenched his fists in frustration. "We need to let The Guild know what's happening," he said firmly.
"I'll go," Bestiel declared.
"No," Mora countered sharply. "You're a Cleric; you need to stay here."
Vel watched as Honka remained silent, tension thickening around them as decisions loomed large in the air like storm clouds ready to break.
Vel felt the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. Clara lay still, and the air crackled with tension as the adventurers argued.
"Can we perform another ritual?" Vel turned to Kazar, his voice steady despite the chaos swirling around them.
Kazar shook her head, worry etching deep lines across her forehead. "The ritual takes time and preparation. We're low on ingredients."
She paused, glancing toward Clara's unconscious form. "With more monsters roaming, gathering them will be difficult. It could take more than a day to be ready."
One day… Vel's heart sank. They might not have that long.
The adventurers shifted uneasily, murmurs of doubt mixing with bravado.
"We're not running," Honka said firmly. "We should be ready if there's a fight."
Just then, Von returned, his expression grave. "The Chief is gone," he announced. "We need to alert everyone and be ready for anything. Fortify the village with whatever we have. We also need to prepare for the worst."
Vel felt urgency flooding through him. If he couldn't help fight directly, he could contribute in other ways—gathering supplies, carrying weapons, finding herbs or ingredients that might assist them in battle.
"I can help!" Vel blurted out, his enthusiasm ringing hollow in the heavy air.
The adventurers turned their eyes toward him, expressions a mix of surprise and skepticism.
"Stay back, kid," Bestiel cautioned gently but firmly.
Von glanced at his son, brow furrowing in suspicion. Why was Vel acting like this? He used to be so carefree and playful; now he seemed far too concerned for someone his age. The shift startled him momentarily before urgency pushed it aside.
"Let me help!" Vel insisted again, desperate to make them understand his determination. "I can gather things! I know about plants and what might help!"
Mora exchanged looks with Bestiel and Honka; their hesitance lingered in the air like an unspoken agreement of disbelief towards a child's plea.
Von crossed his arms tightly, studying Vel's earnest expression as if trying to decipher this sudden maturity beneath the innocent facade of a boy still adjusting to his new reality.
"Just stay close," Von finally relented, a mixture of concern and protection lacing his tone.
Vel felt relief wash over him but quickly suppressed it; this was just the beginning of proving himself useful—he wouldn't let fear control him any longer.
---
Vel felt a surge of adrenaline as everyone poured out of Kazar's hut. Von barked orders, urgency threading through his voice.
"Gather the villagers! We need to alert everyone about the danger!"
Guards nodded, rushing toward the village square while Vel watched, heart pounding.
Mora turned to leave as well. "I'm going to Elnor," she announced, determination in her eyes. "They need to know what's happening here."
As she hurried away, Vel knew he couldn't stay idle any longer. He dashed back toward his home, each step filled with purpose.
"Lan-neechan! Mom!" he cried, bursting into the room.
Mari looked up from her weaving, concern flooding her features.
"What's wrong?" she asked, setting aside her work.
"There's trouble—adventurers got hurt! We have to prepare!" Vel gasped out.
Landre rushed into the room, worry creasing her brow. "What do you mean?"
"Clara is injured; there's a Wulfang threat! We need supplies." Vel's urgency made it clear that time was short.
"Alright," Landre replied quickly. "We can gather herbs and things outside the village. Let's go!"
Before they left, Vel snatched up his dagger—a gift from Von—as an added precaution. It felt heavy in his hand but comforting nonetheless.
As they stepped outside, the air buzzed with tension and chaos; villagers rushed about building barricades and fortifying walls. The sound of wood scraping against wood echoed around them.
"Look at them," Landre murmured softly, watching a group of men hammering together makeshift barriers with panic-fueled energy. "They're scared."
"We have to find ingredients quickly," Vel insisted, glancing toward the distant woods where herbs might grow.
Landre nodded but placed a protective hand on his shoulder. "Whatever happens, stay close to me."
He could feel her worry—she always looked out for him—but today he wanted to be strong too. With a guard now accompanying them for safety, they set off toward the nearby grove just beyond Oakhaven's edge.
The path felt familiar yet fraught with tension; trees loomed overhead as if shielding them from the world outside their village walls. Vel stole glances at Landre as they walked, noting how tightly she gripped her satchel filled with supplies.
"Anything that might help—healing herbs or roots,"
"Right," Landre agreed and began searching through foliage while keeping an eye on him at all times.
With each rustle of leaves around them, Vel sensed that danger lurked just beyond their small haven—a feeling he couldn't shake off even as he focused on finding what they needed most.