In Eldersglade, Arin hummed softly as he guided the plow through the fields. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the farmlands. He was a simple boy, neither remarkable nor ambitious. At sixteen, Arin had only known the peaceful life of a farmer. His father had raised him to be hard-working and honest, values Arin cherished. But that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, a strange chill settled in the air.
As he finished for the day, Arin noticed a figure standing at the edge of the field. An old man, cloaked in a deep indigo robe, leaned on a crooked staff. The man's eyes, bright as burning coals, locked onto Arin's. "You must leave this place," the stranger said in a voice that was both commanding and filled with sorrow. "The darkness comes for you."