Eighteen years have passed, and the once familiar Brayne town, nestled on the eastern edge of England's coast, seems to hold secrets in its quiet corners. The town, with its medieval charm, now feels like a cryptic puzzle waiting to be solved, its serenity a stark contrast to the mystery that has started to unfold.
As if sprung from the pages of a forgotten history book, the narrow, meandering streets of Brayne seem to whisper tales of the past under the weight of time. The cobblestone paths, serpentine and ancient, have a story of their own - a story that, until now, has been silent.
The quaint houses, a testament to the classic English rural style, are built from old red bricks that have weathered centuries. They stand on either side of the streets, silent witnesses to the town's tranquillity and the mystery that now lurks beneath it.
Just when the town seems to be nothing more than a picturesque snapshot of history, the peace is shattered. An object, innocuous at first glance, surfaces - a box. A simple, nondescript box that would soon become the heart of the town's greatest mystery yet. For within it lie secrets that have been buried for eighteen long years - secrets that are now begging to be unearthed."
As night falls, the entire town becomes quiet save for the chirping of insects and the sound of the river's flowing water, as if gently covered by the stars in the sky, leaving only the faint light emitted by the street lamps. Here, it seems like the other side of the world, forgotten by the noise of the world, with only nature and time conversing.
In this distant and quiet place, a boy named Elvin Arthur lives. He has deep brown, naturally curly hair that looks a bit mischievous, reflecting his inner vitality and enthusiasm. His eyes are deep like the ocean, twinkling with azure light, revealing his intelligence. His thick eyebrows, as if carefully carved by nature, imbue him with youthful vitality.
Elvin's physique is not particularly outstanding, but he exudes a kind of elegance and harmony, as if a gift from nature. His skin is as delicate as fine porcelain, fair and smooth. Even though he doesn't have obvious muscle lines, he seems to possess a strength emanating from deep within, waiting for the right moment to burst forth. His face is slightly immature, but his distinct facial contours give him a strong masculine beauty.
His lips are thin and strong, radiating warmth like the spring sun whenever he smiles. His nose is high and firm, like a solid mountain peak, standing between his ocean-deep eyes.
"Elvin, what are you thinking about again?" His grandmother, Margaret, interrupted his contemplation. She held a freshly baked pie in her hands and said with a smile, "Don't keep daydreaming, have something to eat."
"Grandma, I had that dream again," Elvin told Margaret, a tough and perceptive old woman living in the most remote corner of Brayne. Elvin loved to tinker with the curious objects in Grandma Margaret's house, such as magical herbs and strange tools.
"Oh?" Margaret's eyes brightened. Although she knew all about it, she still maintained a feigned surprise, "The dream about the knight?"
"Yes, grandma," Elvin replied, "I feel like the world in the dream is calling to me."
"Maybe, Elvin," Margaret smiled, her eyes filled with love and encouragement, "Perhaps, this is part of your destiny. But it could also just be a dream, Elvin, don't overthink it."
"By the way, grandma, a strange man this afternoon gave me a very special box. He said I could open it, but I can't find the way. Can you see what this is?" Elvin handed a square box to Margaret.
Margaret was taken aback when she saw the box because she recognized it; it used to be hers. But to conceal some things, she did not let on her recognition, just calmly looked at the box, then raised her eyes to Elvin.
"This really is a special box," Margaret said. Her hand gently stroked the box as if recalling the past, "Could you leave this with me to examine, Elvin?"
"Of course, grandma." Elvin looked at Margaret's suddenly deepened gaze, feeling a bit strange, but he didn't ask further, "How long will you need?"
"Perhaps some time." Margaret replied, her gaze shifting away from the box, reverting to the warm and affectionate grandmother, "Don't worry about this for now, you should head home, your mom might be worried."
"Alright, grandma, I'm leaving. Good night, I'll borrow these two for now." As soon as he finished speaking, Elvin picked up the peculiarly marked bronze box and a packet of herbs from the table, waved, and then rode his motorcycle into the dark night. "Elvin, be careful. That little box is not ordinary, keep it safe, and that packet is Blindness Blossom, you know, use it carefully..." Margaret admonished affectionately.
"I know, grandma." Elvin responded with deep feeling, "I'll be careful. Don't worry, I'll come to see you tomorrow."
Watching Elvin's figure gradually disappear into the night, Margaret lowered her head to look at the box in her hands and sighed deeply. She knew that some things were perhaps predestined, only, all of this came too quickly, too suddenly.
Standing quietly at the edge of the town center, away from the hubbub, was an ancient wooden house, Margaret's residence. Although time had left its traces on her face, making her appear to be around 60, her eyes were still bright and passionate. Margaret was a treasure in the hearts of the townsfolk, always welcoming neighbors with a warm smile and an open heart. Her door, like her heart, was always open, inviting children to come in and enjoy her freshly baked sweet cookies and tempting cakes.
Her garden was a beautiful sanctuary, filled with flowers and herbs neatly scattered, exuding a fragrant aroma that brought peace and joy. Over the years, she had been teaching Elvin about herbalism and designing peculiar trinkets. Elvin was a smart boy, he respected and loved this kind-hearted grandma, and etched her teachings into his heart.
At this moment, Margaret held that square box in her hands, a piece of deeply hidden memory in her heart. She gently stroked its surface, as if she could touch those past days. That boy, that knight, they were inseparable, went through hardships together, fought shoulder to shoulder. Margaret's heart was deeply moved, starting to miss the era filled with adventure and challenges.
"You always loved to create special things, perhaps only we two could open this box, it's been 18 years, are you doing alright?" Margaret whispered to herself, shaking the box, filled with nostalgic emotion.
Just then, Margaret felt a strong energy emanating from the box, as if the spirit of the knight was calling her. A tremendous power seeped into her body, making her heart surge. Margaret's eyes filled with tears, tears of being moved, a sense of power and courage because of the knight's presence.
Eyes in the shadows were watching her, she turned around, dropping the box in surprise.
"You... how did you come out?" Margaret's eyes shone with surprise and joy, she jumped up and rushed towards the man.
"Margaret, you've suffered." The man softly said, his eyes revealing concern, "Your appearance, has time passed too quickly here?"
"No," as she said this, Margaret's figure transformed astonishingly. She looked like a beautiful woman in her 30s. Her skin was fair, as pure as moonlight, contrasting with the aged face she had shown before. Her eyes were deep like gemstones, flickering with sparks of courage and wisdom. Her red hair, like a waterfall, naturally fell on her shoulders, shimmering in the sunlight.
A gentle upward curve of her lips formed a smile, like the warm wind of spring, bringing joy. Her graceful figure gave her a unique charm, having the softness of a mature woman and the vibrancy of a young girl. Her gaze was determined yet kind, obviously, the experiences over these years did not erase her passion and kindness.
The man, his large hand gently holding Margaret, his eyes filled with love and warmth. His hand gently stroked her cheek, as delicately as touching porcelain. He leaned down, bending to kiss her passionate yet shy lips. A deep and infatuated emotion flowed between them, as if time had stopped at that moment.
However, at this most beautiful moment, Margaret suddenly felt a cold sensation, as if a dark power was released from the man. She pushed him away in shock, her eyes full of astonishment, "You've obtained the power of the demon," her voice was low and pained, she knew that he had become a follower of the demon lord Magnus.
The man did not deny it, he looked at her, his eyes firm, "I came back this time to take Elvin, this is a mission he must face." His tone was decisive, leaving no room for negotiation.
"I won't allow it." Margaret's voice was firm, her heart seemingly made of stone, the maternal instinct made her enter the battle state without hesitation. The room was filled with dazzling light, the result of both sides casting spells, everyone was wielding their most potent power.
At this moment, a beam of white light passed, and the entire cabin returned to tranquility under the illumination of this beam, everything was unusually quiet, only leaving the square box lying quietly on the floor.