9:02 AM
Golden Fields Region, Verdant Haven
At 9:02 AM, within the serene expanse of the Golden Fields Region in Verdant Haven, a picturesque tableau vividly comes to life against the majestic silhouette of a cliff.
A cliff, crowned by an ancient, towering tree, overlooks sprawling, lush grassy meadows that stretch into the horizon.
In this idyllic landscape, a lively group of children is immersed in a spirited game of tag, their laughter and shouts echoing through the air.
Among them is a five-year-old boy named Aubert Réel, distinguishable by his short, tousled red hair and the vibrant green eyes that sparkle with youthful exuberance.
Observing this scene with a tender gaze, a middle-aged man stands at a distance. His lean, muscular frame, striking red hair, and sharp green eyes mirror those of Aubert, revealing their familial bond.
This man, Maurice Réel, Aubert's father, watches the children with genuine warmth and affection. His eyes, alight with paternal love, reflect pride as he steps closer, his smile broadening at the joyful spectacle before him.
Maurice, with a voice filled with fondness, calls out to his son, signaling the end of playtime. "Aubert, it's time to go home!"
His announcement draws Aubert's attention away from his friends, prompting a heartfelt farewell among the children.
"I'll be going home now. Let's play together again soon!" Aubert says, his friends responding with smiles and nods of agreement.
Rushing towards his father, Aubert's joyful exclamation, "Papa!" fills the air, followed by a warm embrace around Maurice's legs.
Maurice, chuckling with affection, kneels to meet his son's gaze. "How was your playtime, Aubert?"
With eyes gleaming, Aubert replies, "It was fun!"
His simple, heartfelt response brings a wider smile to Maurice's face. "Well, isn't that wonderful? I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Maurice says, his voice a gentle echo of their bond.
He playfully ruffles Aubert's hair, adding, "Let's head home, shall we?"
A spark of excitement ignites in Aubert's eyes as he proposes an adventurous idea. "Yes, but can you fly us home with your flying spell, Papa?"
His request, filled with childlike wonder, prompts a hearty laugh from Maurice.
"Of course," Maurice responds, his voice warm with amusement.
Gently lifting Aubert into his arms, he prepares for their magical journey home.
With a simple command, "Ylf," the magic of Maurice's spell envelops them, lifting them into the sky.
As they ascend, the landscape of Verdant Haven unfolds beneath them, transforming into a breathtaking panorama. Aubert's wide eyes drink in the view; the verdant meadows, the winding river, and the quaint houses of their home shrink into a mesmerizing tapestry below.
The distant mountains, their peaks caressed by clouds, stand as silent guardians on the horizon.
"Woah!" Aubert's awe-struck voice captures the moment, his tiny hands gripping his father's shoulders tightly.
This aerial journey offers a spectacle that stretches beyond the bounds of Aubert's imagination, allowing him to marvel at the world's beauty from this enchanting perspective. Maurice, carrying his son through the sky, smiles tenderly at Aubert's unbridled joy, a reflection of the deep bond they share.
***
9:43 AM
Golden Fields Region, Verdant Haven
Réel Residence
At 9:43 AM, in the verdant embrace of the Golden Fields Region of Verdant Haven, Aubert and Maurice arrived at their dwelling—the Réel Residence.
This quaint cabin, nestled among the dense foliage, stood as a testament to living in harmony with nature. Crafted from timeworn, sturdy wood, its structure was a monument to artisanal skill and an intrinsic bond with the environment.
The cabin's rustic exterior was a canvas of time, with ivy delicately climbing its walls, symbolizing nature's gentle claim.
Wooden shingles covered the roof, their hues blending seamlessly with the forest's palette, while a cobblestone path meandered towards the welcoming entrance, flanked by a garden alive with the riotous colors of blooming flowers and the heady scents of aromatic herbs.
As the day waned, the cabin was caressed by the amber glow of the sunset, its windows flickering with the reflections of twilight, inviting the outside world into its warm interior.
The front porch, adorned with a rocking chair and a quaint table, stood as an invitation to serene contemplation, complemented by the melodic tinkling of a handmade wind chime dancing in the breeze.
Encircled by the forest's embrace, the cabin offered a secluded retreat, its natural canopy a shield against the outside world, crafting an enclave of peace.
Inside, the cabin unfolded into a realm of enchantment. The living area, anchored by a stone fireplace, radiated warmth, its flames a lively dance against the gathering dusk.
The floors, covered in handwoven rugs, added layers of warmth, while the walls bore the legacy of the Réel family's adventures and affections through magical artifacts and portraits.
A corner bookshelf, brimming with magical treatises and stories of Sylvestria, stood as a testament to the family's reverence for lore and the arcane.
The kitchen, though small, was the heart of the home, its wooden counters a repository of culinary magic and the promise of nourishing meals shared at the homely dining table.
Upon entering their sanctuary, the Réels were enveloped in the cabin's familiar embrace, the symphony of the crackling hearth and the gentle susurrus of the forest a welcome serenade.
In this moment of homecoming, Maurice, ever the doting father, proposed a treat—hot chocolate, sparking a light in Aubert's eyes.
"Yay! Hot Chocolate!" Aubert's enthusiasm echoed through the cabin, a joyful chorus.
With a laugh rich in fatherly affection, Maurice playfully tousled Aubert's hair. "You wait in the living room while I prepare it," he said, setting the stage for a cherished ritual.
Aubert, heart swelling with excitement, nestled into the living room couch, his legs swinging in anticipation.
In the meantime, Maurice ventured into the kitchen, embarking on the task of preparing the much-anticipated hot chocolate.
His movements were methodical, a dance of culinary expertise aimed at crafting a drink that was not just warm but infused with the essence of comfort.
While Aubert nestled in the living room, an extraordinary occurrence captured his attention.
The fireplace, traditionally a source of warmth with its vibrant orange flames, began to exhibit an unusual spectacle. The flames transformed, adopting a mystical hue of blue that danced with an ethereal grace.
This magical display, far removed from the ordinary, beckoned Aubert with a curiosity too potent to ignore.
Compelled by this enchanting phenomenon, Aubert descended from his perch on the couch, drawn as if by a magnetic force towards the fireplace.
With each step he took, the fire responded as though in communion with him, shifting through a spectrum of colors that dazzled the senses.
As Aubert stood in awe, the flames settled on a captivating "Crimson Red," a color so intense it seemed to hold stories within its depths.
Moved by an innate curiosity, Aubert reached out, his hand extending towards the flame's magical glow.
"Aubert!" The sharp call of his father, laced with concern, cut through the wonderment, pulling Aubert back to reality.
Maurice, with a look of worry shadowing his features, abandoned the freshly prepared hot chocolates on the coffee table to rush to his son's side. His eyes, filled with paternal concern, sought Aubert's, seeking assurance of his safety.
"I'm okay, Papa," Aubert responded, a mixture of reassurance and excitement in his voice.
His eyes, alight with the thrill of discovery, could hardly contain his eagerness. "Papa, look! The fire—it changes colors when I move!" Aubert announced his voice a blend of wonder and pride.
With a determined gesture, Aubert stamped his foot, fully expecting the fire to dance in response, to mirror his actions with a vibrant change of color. But the flames stood still, unchanging, much to Aubert's dismay.
Refusing to be deterred, Aubert moved again, his steps deliberate, hoping to coax the fire back into its mesmerizing dance. Yet, the flames remained stubbornly normal, their magical display absent, leaving Aubert cloaked in disappointment.
As Aubert's attempts continued to bear no fruit, and his frustration became increasingly evident, Maurice observed the scene unfold with a mix of intrigue and contemplation.
A thought began to form in his mind, a question of the extraordinary.
'Has Aubert awakened his magic?'
In Sylvestria, it was normal for individuals to naturally unlock their magical abilities around six. However, rare occurrences existed when people manifested their magical prowess earlier than expected.
Knock! Knock!
The sudden sound of knocking at the door punctured the air, halting the magical interlude between father and son.
This interruption prompted Maurice to cast a thoughtful glance towards Aubert, a silent acknowledgment of the interrupted moment.
"Aubert, stay here and enjoy your hot cocoa," Maurice instructed, his voice a mix of command and gentleness.
The mention of hot cocoa reignited Aubert's enthusiasm, momentarily diverting him from the mystery of the flames.
"Hot cocoa!" he exclaimed with glee, his disappointment forgotten as he hurried towards the coffee table.
He eagerly made his way toward the coffee table, his tiny hands reaching for the comforting mugs of warmth.
Maurice advanced towards the door, his steps measured, a blend of intrigue and caution shaping his approach.
"Who is it?" he inquired, his voice echoing a note of wariness.
From the other side, a voice laced with familiarity and a hint of jest responded, "Oh, come on, Professor Maurice, don't tell me you've forgotten I'm the only one privy to your new sanctuary?"
The tone was teasing, laden with the confidence of a long-standing acquaintance.
A sigh escaped Maurice as the voice registered, a mix of exasperation and a welcoming sentiment coloring his reaction.
With a motion that blended reluctance with eagerness, he swung the door open, revealing the figure of a man who stood tall, his physique lean and defined, an embodiment of strength and agility.
This visitor, with his tousled black hair, skin as fair as morning light, and eyes reminiscent of the deep ocean's blues, carried an aura of self-assurance, his gaze sparkling with intelligence and an undercurrent of playful roguery.
His attire, a meticulous composition of a white dress shirt paired with a vibrant red tie, a black vest, and trousers, culminated in a look of casual elegance. Red shoes added a pop of color, while his black jacket, worn with the flair of a cape, lent him an air of theatrical drama.
"Dominic, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Maurice greeted, his voice warm, a smile touching his lips at the sight of his visitor.
"Hey there, Professor. It's been too long," Dominic replied, the familiar warmth in his greeting betraying his former role as Maurice's student at the Verdant Arcanum, Verdant Haven's esteemed academy of magic.
"You've yet to state the purpose of your visit," Maurice pressed, an amused glint in his eyes challenging Dominic.
"Oh, you wound me, Professor. Is it so wrong for your prodigy to seek out his mentor without pretext?" Dominic retorted, his grin wide, though a shade of mock hurt flickered in his eyes.
"Yes," Maurice answered, his brevity underscored by a playful tone.
"Oh."
A brief moment of feigned disappointment crossed Dominic's features before both men succumbed to laughter, their shared history and camaraderie briefly eclipsing the present.
"Come in, then," Maurice invited, stepping aside to welcome Dominic into the heart of his home.
As Dominic crossed the threshold, his gaze fell upon a younger mirror image of Maurice, seated on the sofa, engrossed in the simple pleasure of hot cocoa.
"Is this a miniaturized version of yourself, Professor?" Dominic inquired, his tone teasing yet tinged with curiosity.
Aubert, upon noticing the newcomer, fixed him with a look of intense scrutiny, his green eyes locking with Dominic's azure gaze in a silent duel of curiosity.
"Dominic, meet my son, Aubert. And Aubert, this is Dominic," Maurice introduced, bridging the gap between past and present.
Dominic, accepting the cue, knelt to match Aubert's gaze, offering a smile of genuine warmth. "Hello there, Little Aubert."
Aubert, initially silent, scrutinized Dominic with a discerning eye, his young mind grappling with the presence of this new figure. In his world, anyone vying for his father's attention was to be met with caution.
After a moment's evaluation, Aubert retreated behind Maurice's legs, pointing accusingly at Dominic, his verdict clear: "Enemy."
Dominic, taken aback by the unexpected label, could only exclaim, "Huh?! What are you talking about, Brat?"
The surprise and slight indignation in his voice mirrored his astonishment at being branded an adversary by a child he had just met.
Maurice's response was a burst of hearty laughter, delighting in the absurdity of the situation. "Hahaha! It seems Aubert has a keen sense for spotting troublemakers!"
"But, Professor, I've long since shed my rebellious teen phase!" Dominic countered, his mock indignation failing to mask the playful banter between them.
The atmosphere then shifted as Dominic's demeanor grew solemn. "Professor, I have something to discuss."
Maurice, sensing the gravity of the moment, nodded. "Of course, Dominic. But first," he turned to Aubert, still ensconced behind his legs. "Aubert, why don't you head upstairs and play? I'll whip up another batch of hot cocoa later."
Aubert's eyes sparkled at the promise, his earlier stand-off forgotten in the anticipation of more delights. He scampered off, leaving the adults to their grave discussion.
With Aubert's departure, Maurice's attention returned to Dominic, his stance indicating readiness.
"So, what's the matter?" He inquired, the weight of leadership settling on his shoulders.
Dominic's voice, when it came, was laden with urgency. "Erebos is back."
Maurice's response was a mix of shock and disbelief, a simple, incredulous, "...What?" marking the gravity of the revelation.