**The Year 1287 of the New Age**
In the tranquil village of Hingr Wynd, where the gentle breeze whispered through the trees and the sun painted the sky with hues of gold and amber, lived a boy named Arnolt Yorgir. At nine years old, Arnolt was known for his remarkable talent for finding the easiest way out of any situation. Whether it was avoiding chores or sidestepping responsibilities, Arnolt could always be counted on to do the bare minimum with a contented smile.
His days were a tapestry of leisurely pursuits, spent lounging on the grass under the shade of an ancient willow tree, or idly skipping stones across the rippling surface of the village pond. Life in Hingr Wynd was gentle and unhurried, and Arnolt was perfectly content to let it stay that way.
Sharing this tranquil existence was Arnolt's seven-year-old cousin, Xiona. Bursting with curiosity and energy, Xiona was the embodiment of adventure. Her wide eyes sparkled with dreams of distant lands and magical creatures, and she often dragged Arnolt into her imaginative escapades, much to his reluctant amusement.
Their world was a place where the mystical and the mundane intertwined seamlessly. Dragons were said to sleep beneath the mountain peaks, and elves were rumored to dwell in the heart of the ancient forest. Magical creatures were an everyday occurrence in Hingr Wynd—beautiful sprites flickered near the river's edge, and mischievous creatures hid away within the woods. It was an enchanting place for those who sought it, but Arnolt preferred his adventures to stay within the pages of books and the confines of daydreams.
Arnolt's father, Arwolt Yorgir, had once harbored dreams of becoming a legendary adventurer. Fresh-faced and eager, he had set out with a small band of companions, only to face a horrific encounter with a mysterious monster. The beast left Arwolt with a shattered left arm, three missing fingers, and the bitter memory of his entire rookie party perishing in the encounter. His dreams shattered alongside his injuries, Arwolt returned to Hingr Wynd, living a life of a simple farmer, unable to continue his adventurous pursuits but forever marked by his harrowing experience.
Now, as he sat by the fireplace in their modest cottage, Arwolt's thoughts were occupied with growing concern for his niece, Xiona. Despite his own failed attempts, he understood the allure of adventure and knew that Xiona's relentless pursuit of it was not something easily deterred. Her enthusiasm was a double-edged sword—while it inspired excitement, it also posed risks he could not ignore.
Arwolt's gaze fell upon Arnolt, who was sprawled comfortably on the floor, absently playing with a worn-out toy sword. The sight of his son's easygoing nature and lack of ambition weighed heavily on him. Though Arnolt was young, Arwolt knew that Xiona's ventures would inevitably lead her into dangerous territory, and he needed someone to watch over her—someone he hoped could be prepared, if not for adventure, then at least for protection.
"Arnolt," Arwolt's voice was a low rumble, pulling the boy from his reverie.
Arnolt looked up, one eyebrow raised in mild curiosity. "Yeah, Dad?"
"I need to talk to you about something important," Arwolt began, choosing his words with care. "You know how much Xiona loves adventure. It's all she talks about, and she's always dragging you into her little games. I need you to understand something."
Arnolt shifted uncomfortably, a flicker of unease crossing his face. "What about Xiona?"
Arwolt took a deep breath, the old scars on his hand serving as a constant reminder of his own failed dreams. "Xiona's ambitions are bound to lead her into dangerous situations. I can't always be there to protect her, and her father… well, he's got his own challenges. I need you to be prepared to look out for her."
Arnolt's face fell into a frown. "But Dad, I'm not really the adventurous type. I'd rather stay here and enjoy things as they are."
Arwolt's eyes softened with a mixture of sadness and resolve. "I understand that, Arnolt. I never wanted this life for you either. But you're her family, and she'll need someone who can handle themselves if things go wrong. It's not about becoming a hero; it's about being ready to help when it counts."
The gravity of his father's words began to sink in, and Arnolt glanced outside at Xiona, who was playing with a small, homemade bow and arrow. She was brimming with energy and dreams, oblivious to the dangers that might lie ahead.
"So you're saying I should be an adventurer? Join the adventurer's guild or something?" Arnolt asked.
"While you don't necessarily have to be an adventurer, I wish to train you in the arts of spearmanship, the skill I learned in the past. It'll a useful offensive and defensive skill, and down the line, that skill can be used to join the guild if you wish," Arwolt answered.
Arnolt stared at the toy sword in his hand, gave a brief thought to his father's words, then answered. "Alright," Arnolt said slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do it. I'll train, but only if I get your spear."
Arwolt's face brightened with relief and gratitude. "Thank you, Arnolt. It means a lot to me, but why bother with that old thing? You can have a better spear than that."
"Really? You mean it? I get to own my own spear?" Arnolt asked, immediately standing up.
"Yeah, it's the least I can give you for accepting my request," Arwolt replied.
"Yeah!! Awesome!" Arnolt cheered, raising his arms excitedly. The doubt he had before disappeared at the prospect of a gift, his happiness palpable.
Not long after, the ever-cheerful Xiona, hearing Arnolt's joyous outburst, barged into the cottage, immediately lunging at her cousin and sending them both tumbling to the floor. "Arnolt! What are you so excited about? Come on, let's go play in the fields—I want to catch the butterflies!" she exclaimed excitedly.
"Ugh… Xiona, get off me, you're heavy," Arnolt grumbled, struggling to get up.
As his father's approval warmed the air and the cheerful laughter of his cousin filled the room, Arnolt contemplated the path before him. Training meant stepping out of his comfort zone and facing challenges he had wished to avoid. Yet, for Xiona's sake, and for the bond they shared, Arnolt was ready to embark on this new journey, prepared to face the unknown and protect the cousin who meant so much to him.