I walked alone, cloaked beneath a sky of stars and the soft silver light of the moon. Their quiet presence felt like silent companions, watching me from above. The air was cold and damp, filled with the earthy scent of moss and leaves. Somewhere in the depths of the forest, a sound echoed — a rustle in the thicket, perhaps a creature stirring in its sleep. I paused to listen, but soon, silence returned. Only the soft crunch of my footsteps remained.
Though no human in this world wields magic, magic itself still lingers — pulsing through the earth, sleeping in the bones of ancient beasts. Deep within these wild woods, magical creatures roam — creatures filled with mana, the life force of all enchantment. Their horns, scales, fur, and even blood are used to craft magical items. These relics, forged by skilled hands, carry protective wards, healing blessings, or enhanced speed. But they are rare and costly.
Only the wealthy can afford them.
The common folk — farmers, shepherds, traveling craftsmen — cannot dream of such luxury. They live off the land, surviving through agriculture, the beating heart of every kingdom. That's why the poor and middle-class vastly outnumber the rich. The rich, mostly merchants, deal in power. They trade rare goods across borders, and they alone use enchanted items to fly across lands, fend off beasts, or shield themselves from danger. But the magical beasts that supply such wonders do not only dwell in forests — they haunt the deep seas too, in waters darker than the night sky.
---
I had been walking for what felt like hours. My legs ached, and exhaustion began to set in. I needed rest.
I scanned the trees and found one with wide, low-hanging branches—strong enough to support my weight. Sleeping on the forest floor wasn't an option. I didn't want to risk an encounter with wild animals during the night.
I climbed up slowly, choosing a thick branch nestled between two trunks. It was rough beneath my cloak, but safe. The wind rustled the leaves above, and the distant howls of night creatures faded into background noise. I leaned against the trunk, closed my eyes, and without realizing it...
I drifted off.
---
Morning came not with an alarm, but with the soft chirping of birds. Their songs pierced the silence of dawn, light and melodic.
My eyes fluttered open.
The sky was still dusky blue, but the darkness was fading. A pale orange glow stretched along the horizon, painting the treetops in warm light. I didn't know what time it was—or how long I had slept—but I felt rested.
I climbed down the tree, my fingers cold from the night wind. The forest was different in the morning—gentler, like it had been holding its breath all night and now exhaled softly with the coming of day.
I walked on, rubbing sleep from my eyes, searching for water to wash my face.
---
Soon, the trees began to thin, and the ground sloped downward into what looked like a narrow ravine flanked by hills. The air here was clearer, lighter. From the edge of the slope, I could see trees blanketing the valley below. As I stood there, something shifted.
The world around me began to brighten.
I looked up—toward the eastern sky—and saw the sun rise for the first time in my life from outside the palace.
It was beautiful.
The sunlight spilled over the ridge, bathing the treetops in gold. Shafts of light pierced through the morning mist. For a moment, time itself felt like it paused to let me witness this moment. I stood still, chest rising slowly, as warmth touched my face.
I had never seen nature like this. Not from inside cold stone walls.
This sunrise didn't just light up the sky—it reached inside me. I felt something awaken.
Like the sun itself was telling me:
> "Lift your head. Keep walking. You are not lost—you are beginning."
My body still ached, and my path was still unknown—but I felt lighter.
Renewed.
---
I found a narrow path winding into the forest below and began to descend. The sun rose higher, and as its warmth spread, another sensation arrived: hunger.
It had been a full day since I last ate anything.
I began looking around for fruit-bearing trees, scanning the branches for anything edible. Even a handful of berries or one ripe fruit would ease the emptiness in my stomach.
Back in the palace, I never worried about meals. Food arrived like clockwork, prepared by servants in silver dishes. I never learned to cook. No one expected a prince to.
But I had read about it. In my books, adventurers survived in the wild by learning, adapting, building fires, and finding food. I used to imagine myself among them—cooking over a fire, slicing fruit with my sword, learning how to live on my own.
And now… perhaps it was time to become one of those adventurers.
---
As I walked deeper into the forest, I felt a new strength growing inside me.
Not physical strength—but something else.
Conviction.
I may be suffering now. I may be hungry, alone, and lost. But this pain... it will pass. This moment is the first of many.
I will endure.
I will rewrite my destiny.
A new chapter has begun.
And I will be the one to write it.