Morning came quietly to the village of Elderglen.
Mist drifted lazily between the wooden houses, rolling down from the forested hills like a pale river. Roosters crowed from behind fences, and the smell of warm bread spread through the narrow dirt roads as villagers opened their doors to greet the day.
For most people, mornings were predictable.
For Renor Kael, they were peaceful.
Renor stepped outside his small wooden house, stretching his arms toward the pale blue sky. The early sunlight warmed his face, and a cool breeze rustled the wheat fields beyond the village.
Another calm day.
That alone was something worth appreciating.
Inside the house, a familiar voice shouted.
"Renor! If you leave without eating again, I swear I'll drag you back by the ear!"
Renor winced.
"Coming, Mother!"
He stepped back inside quickly before she could make good on that threat.
The kitchen was small but lively. His mother stood near the stove stirring a pot of stew while his younger sister Mira sat at the table, swinging her legs impatiently.
Mira grinned the moment she saw him.
"You were staring at the sky again, weren't you?"
Renor sighed as he sat down.
"Maybe."
"You always do that," she said, pointing at him dramatically. "Like you're waiting for something."
Renor shrugged.
"I just like quiet mornings."
His mother placed a bowl in front of him.
"Eat."
Renor obeyed immediately.
Experience had taught him that arguing was pointless.
The stew was warm and comforting, filled with vegetables grown from their small garden behind the house.
Life in Elderglen was simple.
Farm the fields. Trade supplies. Fix broken fences. Repeat the next day.
Renor didn't mind it.
Some people dreamed of cities and adventure.
Renor dreamed of peace.
Outside the window, villagers were already gathering in the town square. Merchants opened stalls, farmers carried sacks of grain, and children chased each other through the dusty streets.
After finishing breakfast, Renor grabbed his jacket.
"I'll head to the fields."
His mother nodded.
"Take the southern path. The ground was flooded yesterday."
Renor waved as he stepped outside again.
The village was fully awake now.
Old man Garrick waved from his porch.
"Morning, Renor!"
"Morning!"
Children ran past him laughing, wooden swords clashing as they pretended to fight monsters.
"Take that, Rift Beast!"
"No fair! You're cheating!"
Renor chuckled quietly.
Kids always loved stories about monsters.
Stories that were supposed to be just that.
Stories.
As Renor walked toward the wheat fields, he noticed a group of villagers gathered near the well.
Their voices were quieter than usual.
Concerned.
"…I'm telling you, something's wrong in the forest."
Renor slowed his steps.
The speaker was Hunter Bram, one of the few villagers who regularly traveled beyond Elderglen.
His beard was tangled and his expression tense.
Another villager crossed his arms.
"You say that every year."
Bram shook his head.
"No. This is different."
"What did you see?"
Bram hesitated.
"…Tracks."
"What kind?"
"Not animal."
The group fell silent.
Renor leaned against the fence, listening.
Bram continued.
"Too big. Too deep. Something heavy walked through the northern woods."
Someone laughed nervously.
"You're letting those old monster legends get to your head."
Another villager nodded.
"Those things only exist in the Rift Zones far away."
"Exactly," someone added. "They've never appeared here."
Bram frowned.
"Maybe."
His voice lowered.
"But the animals are running."
Renor blinked.
"Running?"
Bram pointed toward the distant forest line.
"Deer. Wolves. Even birds. They're leaving the woods."
Renor followed his gaze.
The forest looked normal.
Tall trees swaying gently in the wind.
Peaceful.
Still.
Yet something about Bram's words left an uncomfortable weight in Renor's chest.
The conversation eventually faded as people returned to work.
Rumors came and went all the time.
Still…
Renor glanced at the forest again.
For a brief moment, he thought he saw something strange.
A flicker.
Like heat distorting the air.
Then it vanished.
Renor shook his head.
Probably nothing.
He continued walking until he reached the wheat fields outside the village.
Golden crops stretched across the hills, moving like waves in the breeze.
Renor began his usual work, cutting and tying bundles of wheat.
Hours passed peacefully.
The sun climbed higher.
Birds chirped.
Wind rustled through the fields.
Normal.
Completely normal.
Then the wind stopped.
Renor noticed it immediately.
The sudden silence felt unnatural.
The birds had gone quiet.
Even the insects had disappeared.
Renor straightened slowly.
"…Weird."
He turned toward the forest again.
This time, he saw it clearly.
The air was warping.
The sky above the treeline twisted like glass under pressure.
A faint crimson light began bleeding through the clouds.
Renor's heart skipped.
"What…?"
The ground trembled.
Not violently.
Just enough to make the wheat stalks quiver.
A low sound echoed across the hills.
Not thunder.
Not wind.
Something deeper.
Something… alive.
Renor's chest tightened.
Back in the village, people were starting to shout.
He could hear distant voices.
Confused.
Alarmed.
Renor took a step forward.
The distortion above the forest expanded.
The sky cracked.
A thin glowing fracture split open in midair.
Red light poured out of it.
Renor stared in disbelief.
"…That's impossible."
The fracture widened slowly.
Like a wound opening in the sky.
And from within the light…
Something moved.
Renor felt a sudden chill run down his spine.
For the first time in his life
The peaceful sky above Elderglen looked back at him.
And it was no longer empty.