The night stretched quiet and vast over the fields as Yanz and Donvano walked toward the village, the stars shimmering coldly overhead. Yanz's gaze wandered up to the moon, large and golden, hovering over the land like some ancient guardian. This moon was unfamiliar, far larger and closer than the one he'd known on Earth. He was just about to get lost in its strange beauty when Donvano's voice cut through the stillness.
-"Keep looking up like that, and you'll trip,"
He said dryly.
Annoyance flickered across Yanz's face, but he dropped his gaze forward, following the faint, flickering lights of the village in the distance.
As they passed through the village outskirts, Yanz saw only a handful of figures moving about, shadows slipping into their homes to rest after a long day's work. They finally approached a house that stood apart from the others. It was well-kept, unlike the crumbling, moss-covered dwellings scattered around it. The house seemed to demand respect, rising alone in the village's center, framed by a clear, orderly path.
-"This is the village chief's house," Donvano informed him, his voice low.
-"Wait here. I'll let him know you're here to talk."
Yanz watched as Donvano disappeared through the wooden door, leaving him outside under the vast, star-strewn sky. Moments later, the door creaked open again.
-"Come inside. The chief will see you," Donvano said.
Yanz stepped in, noticing at once that the chief's house felt sturdier than the others. The floor beneath his feet was stone, solid and cold, and the walls were lined with thick beams of wood. The place was sparsely lit, just one torch casting dim shadows that stretched across the floor. Yanz followed Donvano up a narrow, creaking staircase until they reached a door.
Donvano knocked. A voice from within invited them inside, and Donvano nudged Yanz forward, staying behind as Yanz crossed the threshold alone.
Inside was a small room, warm from the torchlight. A study table cluttered with sheaves of paper and scrolls dominated the center, and a weary-looking man with sharp eyes sat behind it. The man's gaze settled on Yanz with an intensity that made him feel as though the man were sifting through his thoughts. Yanz took a seat when the man gestured to the lone chair in front of the desk.
-"i will take my leave then"
Donvano said as he got out of the room and closed the door"
-"What's your name, young man?"
The man asked, his voice even.
-"Yanz,"
He replied.
The man nodded slowly.
-"Donvano tells me you lived outside the village, in the old building?"
Yanz hesitated before nodding.
-"Yes."
A faint smile tugged at the man's mouth, though it was hard to tell if it was one of amusement or skepticism. Reaching into a pile on his desk, the man pulled out a battered leather-bound diary, its pages yellowed and worn from years of handling.
-"Do you know what this is?"
The chief asked, his tone more intrigued than accusatory.
Yanz eyed it briefly.
-"It looks like an old diary."
The man chuckled, the sound rough and dry.
-"Indeed it is. But it holds something of importance. Read this."
He opened the diary to a well-worn page and slid it across the table toward Yanz.
Yanz leaned in and read aloud:
"I had a strange dream today. There would be a hero who would come from a land far away to save them. I don't know when or where he will come, but he will."
The rest of the page was torn.
Yanz looked up, puzzled.
-"What is this?"
The man leaned back, his eyes glinting in the torchlight.
-"This is the diary of the great mage."
Yanz furrowed his brow.
-"And why would you want me to read something like this?"
-"Because,"
The man said, his voice dropping to a near whisper,
-"the hero he wrote of has arrived."
A nervous laugh escaped Yanz.
-"Y..You mean me? ha, I think you're mistaken. I'm just an ordinary person. I lived nearby with my parents, that's all."
The man leaned forward, his gaze never wavering.
-"Ordinary, you say? I don't think so."
He gestured toward the diary with a pointed look.
-"The fact that you were able to read this proves you are no ordinary person."
Yanz blinked, caught off guard. The man continued, his tone measured. -"Here, only the sky people,my son and I are literate. The villagers don't read; they don't know how to. And you… you are clearly not one of the sky people because you helped in farming today and those bastards would never do a job like this, yet here you are, reading as if it were nothing."
A creeping sense of uncertainty swept through Yanz as he struggled to respond. He couldn't refute the man's point—he knew how to read, after all. But was that really enough to convince this man he was some hero?
The man leaned back, watching Yanz with an expression of quiet certainty.
- "I am certain it is you.
The man studied Yanz, a calm certainty in his gaze. Yanz met that look with growing frustration, shaking his head.
-"How can you be so sure that this 'dream' even means anything?"
He challenged.
-"It was just that—a dream. Dreams have no real meaning."
The old man's face hardened slightly, a spark of indignation flashing in his eyes.
-"No meaning, you say? This is the Great Mage we are talking about. Do you have any idea of the unbelievable things he achieved in his lifetime? This dream—"
He tapped the diary's worn page with a firm hand,
-"—is nothing compared to the marvels he accomplished."
Yanz felt a pang of regret at his own bluntness. He could see that, despite the man's irritation, a gentleness returned to his expression, as if he sensed Yanz's unease.
-"I… I apologize if I seemed rude, hero Yanz,"
The chief continued, his voice softer now.
-"What I meant is that he wasn't called the Great Mage for nothing."
His gaze softened further, reverence etched into his expression.