A river gushed across the small human town of Alansvale, situated on the border of the Human, Elf and Dragon kingdoms. Once in a while, there would be Elves who came bearing gifts and Dragon younglings who would wander into the town out of curiosity.
Alansvale and its residents were enjoying the bright peaceful day watching scenes of curious Dragons with sparkling eyes and elegant Elves filled with charisma and a little bit of eccentricity.
Unfortunately, even Alansvale, the bright sunny town, wasn't free from the grip of shadows. Beyond its darkened corners and fancy houses, a small shack sat the edge of town.
And in this small shack, lived a family. A family of six adopted siblings, who had just lost their beloved Grandmother.
The eldest among them, a girl called Rene, was a blacksmith apprentice, working hard every day to ensure her siblings were well fed and saving enough to buy them a bigger house.
The second sibling, Duns, a few months younger than Rene, was a bear of a man, standing at six feet five inches. He was often mistaken for an adult soldier, when he was in truth just barely seventeen. He trained every day, and had already earned himself a spot in the town guard.
Next in line, just a few days younger than Dunst, was Carlos, the nimblest in the group, with a free, unrestrained spirit. He was quite famous among the town ladies for his handsome face and cheeky personality, and he was also famous among the business circles for being a money making prodigy.
Raven, the fourth sibling was as meek as a sheep. He spent his days engrossed in books and learning magic, he was a local celebrity in the town, for everyone remembered the day the Magic Tower, the greatest gathering of mages in the country had recruited him.
Well, they were refused and rejected every time, but that's a story for another day.
After Raven, there was Aron. Aron was well liked around the town for his gentle smile and all rounder abilities. While Rene acted as the head, Aron managed most of the household related activities and would sometimes help out the farmers with organizing their reports.
He sometimes visited the town in his free time, learning about the various races that inhabited Turia and sketching them out.
The youngest among the bunch was Lydia, the princess of the family and a genius in making magical charms and accessories. Impressed by her abilities, even an FeatherFolko had accepted her as her disciple.
Although Lydia was heavily spoiled and pampered by her siblings, she always tried her best ensure her family wasn't burdened.
All was as usual on the usual day, except Aron who had ventured out a little out of habit, and now stood in front of the town gate, with a pencil in his hand, sketching out the various races that passed by, in and out of the town.
He was intently drawing down the unique shape of an elven group, when he noticed something strange. Among the travelers was a lady with beige hair who looked familiar to him. What intrigued him was the small white lotus on the top her head.
He shook his head and then stifled a gasp when he heard a soft whisper, almost like a dream, "Aron" his name. The lady turned around and smiled at him.
"You're Aron, aren't you? Nice to meet you! Sheila spoke well about you, mind taking me to your place?"
The lady walked towards him, with a slow gait that caused Aron to tense up. He gulped and bolted to the gates before she could catch him, but he didn't make it any far as a vine erupted from the earth and coiled around his leg, rooting him in place.
"My name's Triana, I'm the friendly neighborhood Dryad."
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In the shadowy outline of a chamber buried underground, cloaked figures gathered around a bloody altar, their hands placed on an old map spread across its surface. One of the figures lifted a candle and held it on top of the map.
"Kekekeke." another cackled menacingly.
"The time has come. The Starfolk ran away and left behind Polaris, thinking they could stop us. Today, we prove them wrong, for when Polaris calls, each and every kingdom falls."
A loud cacophony of cackles, shrieks, giggles and raucous laughter rose from the group, as the man dropped the candle on top of the map, showing the continent. Calamity would now befall the world abandoned by the Starfolk.