Astoria, that was the name of the continent. A land steeped in history, existing in a world where the gods were dead... or so the scattered ruins claimed.
But was that the truth?
Perhaps, no one really knew what had happened to them. Divine wars? Or had the world simply forgotten them?
And yet, despite the silence of the gods, Astoria endured.
Villages, cities, and kingdoms had adapted, surviving among the remnants of a lost and forgotten era, carrying on their fragile civilization in a world ruled solely by humanity.
Astoria was divided into four regions, or rather, five, though the last one was somewhat different from the rest.
The northern region was harsh and unforgiving, where ice wrapped everything in its relentless embrace. Snowstorms were frequent, and only the strongest could survive in those desolate lands. Fortified cities stood as bastions against the wild, sustaining themselves through hunting and trade with the few adventurers daring enough to challenge the North.
Then, there was the western region, a land of sprawling forests, towering mountains, and rushing rivers. Though more habitable than the North, its rugged geography limited the number of cities and settlements.
To the south stretched an unforgiving desert, a vast sea of endless sand where only the most skilled caravans dared to travel. The desert people were known for their resilience and their grand oasis cities, built around the few precious sources of water. The merciless sun and fierce sandstorms made life here a constant struggle.
The east, on the other hand, was a land of vast plains and fertile hills—the beating heart of human civilization. Paradoxically, it was also the region in the greatest decline. Wealth had made its people complacent, or worse, too greedy to see beyond their comfort. As a result, this was one of the most war-torn territories.
Each of these regions was ruled by a royal house, supported by lesser noble families entrusted with managing their lands.
The fifth region, however, remained shrouded in mystery. Located at the heart of the continent, it was protected by an impenetrable mountain range that, for reasons unknown, seemed to repel anyone who attempted to cross it. Yet, not everyone was excluded from that forbidden land.
Though little was known about what lay beyond those peaks, one thing was certain, the imperial family resided there, the supreme rulers of the continent. Not only did they govern the most enigmatic region of Astoria, but they also acted as the ultimate arbiters of all conflicts, responsible for maintaining the balance between the four great regions and preventing the continent from plunging into chaos.
However, people were not the only danger.
Monsters, beasts, creatures, whatever name they were given, they were harbingers of death and destruction. These beings originated from the Other Side, a hostile and deadly realm for humans. Yet, when mana accumulated beyond a certain threshold, fractures would form in the fabric of reality, allowing these creatures to infiltrate the world.
In the past, their arrival spelled certain devastation. But over generations, humanity had grown stronger, learning how to fight them and contain their impact. Still, no one could afford to underestimate their threat.
Anyone with sufficient strength had a duty to seal the fractures before it was too late.
But none of this mattered to the people of Zisa Village, whose only concern was living in the present. Among them, a ten-year-old boy sat on one of the many rocky ledges surrounding the village.
He had brown hair that barely brushed his ears and amber eyes so vivid they reflected the sunlight without the slightest discomfort, making them appear even brighter. His face still carried the soft features of childhood, with slightly chubby cheeks, yet it was clear he would one day grow into a heartbreaker.
Silence enveloped the place, broken only by the distant murmur of the village and the whisper of the wind against the rocks. However, the tranquility was soon disturbed by the rustling of grass and the soft clatter of small stones rolling under light footsteps. Someone was approaching.
"Found you, Kael!"
The intruder turned out to be a girl the same age as the boy, or rather, Kael.
"Alice, Aunt Angela told you not to come here," Kael said, trying to sound mature as he scolded Alice, the daughter of Luke and Angela, who, like him, was ten years old.
"Doesn't the same rule apply to you?"
Her quick-witted response silenced him instantly, reminding him all too well of the scolding, and the painful ear-pulling, his aunt had given him for wandering so far from the village.
Kael averted his gaze, crossing his arms in an attempt to mask his embarrassment.
"This is different," he muttered.
Alice raised an eyebrow, a sly smile forming on her lips.
"Oh really? And how exactly?"
Kael huffed, trying to come up with a convincing answer, but the truth was, he had none. He had simply needed a quiet place to be alone, away from the voices and bustle of the village. Yet, he couldn't deny that Alice's presence wasn't entirely unwelcome.
Seeing that Kael didn't respond, Alice sat down beside him with a satisfied smile. After a moment of silence, she spoke.
"Don't your eyes hurt from staring at the sun?"
Alice couldn't contain her curiosity. Kael had the odd habit of staring at the sun without any sign of discomfort, and the strangest part was that he seemed to enjoy it.
"I don't know... but it relaxes me."
"How funny."
Alice chuckled under her breath while Kael shook his head as if he didn't understand why.
"Shall we head back?"
"Yes! Let your big sister lead the way!" Alice declared proudly, puffing out her chest.
"Haaah... alright," Kael sighed, resigned.
Even though they were the same age, Alice was a few months older and had taken it upon herself to be his "big sister." Unfortunately, Alice was by far the more childish of the two. Kael had resisted the nickname for years, but eventually he had to give in; Alice was simply too stubborn to let it go.
Kael shook his head with a faint smile as he began walking beside Alice. The path back to the village was rugged, scattered with stones and tree roots jutting out from the ground. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, painting the sky in golden and orange hues, while a gentle evening breeze brushed against their faces.
Alice, always a step ahead, hummed cheerfully as she walked, occasionally glancing back to make sure Kael was keeping up.
"Hurry up! You're slower than a turtle!"
Kael sighed and rolled his eyes but quickened his pace. "If you trip over a root again, don't expect me to help you."
Alice pouted, remembering all too well the time she had fallen face-first into the mud. "That time it was the rain's fault! The ground was slippery!"
"Sure, sure."
Alice puffed out her cheeks in protest, then suddenly turned around and grabbed his hand, dragging him along.
"Come on! If we're late, Mom will scold us again!"
Kael let himself be pulled along without resistance, feeling the warmth of her hand in his.
As they neared the village, the first lanterns began to glow between the wooden and stone houses. The air was rich with the scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meat, while the chatter of villagers mixed with the crackling of fires.
Reaching their home, both let out a sigh of relief, thinking they had made it back in time.
Or at least, that's what they believed.
As soon as they stepped inside, they were met with Angela, waiting for them with a smile that was anything but reassuring. In her hand, gripped with the certainty of someone who had already decided the culprits' fate, was a rolling pin… and it didn't seem like it was meant just for baking.
"So... which one of you would like to explain where you've been?"
Angela's voice was sweet, too sweet, but the two of them knew all too well that this was the tone she used when punishment was imminent.
Faced with their mother's terrifying presence, Alice was already on the verge of tears when she felt a hand rest on her shoulder.
"Don't worry..." Kael whispered reassuringly. "If you survive, I'll see you tomorrow."
And without the slightest hesitation, he turned around and bolted, leaving Alice to her tragic fate.
"T-Traitor! Kyaaa!"
Kael didn't look back for a single moment. Only when he finally reached safety in front of his house did he allow himself a long sigh of relief.
Near the entrance, Ronald was chopping wood. The sharp sound of the axe striking the logs blended with the crackling fire beside him.
It wasn't an uncommon sight, yet every time Kael watched him, he found himself mesmerized. Ronald was old, and time had left visible marks on his body, but when he raised the axe and brought it down with precision, there was not a single wasted movement. Every strike was swift and accurate, making it difficult to follow with the eye. It almost seemed as if he wasn't splitting tough wood, but slicing through butter.
"If you're done staring, come give me a hand, my back is killing me."