The village of Talmor was quiet under the early morning sky, bathed in the soft orange glow of dawn. The houses, with their thatched roofs and narrow chimneys, seemed to huddle together against the morning chill. A fog clung to the ground, softening the sharp edges of the forest surrounding the village. For the people of Talmor, this was a peaceful time, a time of tending to animals, preparing meals, and starting the day's work.
But for Marcus, it was the most exciting part of the day. He sat by the lake, staring across the water as he tossed a flat stone, watching it skip once, twice, and then sink with a soft plop. A flock of birds soared overhead, their distant calls echoing over the water. Despite the village's tranquility, Marcus's mind was far from peaceful. His gaze drifted to the forest beyond the lake, to the mountains shrouded in mist, and further still to places he'd only heard of in stories.
His mother's stories had been the best of all. Tales of kingdoms at war, legendary heroes, and mysterious creatures that roamed the skies and hid in the shadows. Dragons. She'd told him about the dragons as if she'd known them herself, describing their shimmering scales, the fire in their breath, and the intelligence in their eyes. For most people, dragons were simply fairy tales. But for Marcus, they were a possibility—a flickering hope that the world was bigger and more mysterious than his little village.
"Daydreaming again, are you?"
The voice startled him, and he looked up to see Callen, his best friend, standing behind him with a smirk on his face. Callen was shorter than Marcus but broader, with a mass of curly brown hair that seemed to defy any attempt at control.
"Just enjoying the morning," Marcus replied, shrugging.
"Enjoying it or hoping for some adventure to come and snatch you away?" Callen teased, nudging him with an elbow.
Marcus laughed, but he didn't answer. Callen, ever the practical one, had never understood his fascination with dragons and old legends. To Callen, life in Talmor was perfectly fine as it was. They'd grow up, take over their families' farms, marry, and live simple, steady lives. But Marcus couldn't shake the feeling that something greater was waiting for him, something that he was meant to find.
"Come on," Callen said. "If we're late for the morning chores again, your father's going to make you muck out the stables."
Marcus sighed, glancing one last time at the forest. "Yeah, you're right. Let's go."
They started back toward the village, walking in comfortable silence. As they passed the edge of the forest, Marcus felt a strange sensation prickling at the back of his neck. He stopped, looking around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The trees stood silent, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him.
"Marcus?" Callen called, already several steps ahead. "You coming?"
"Yeah," Marcus replied, shaking his head as he jogged to catch up. Maybe he was just letting his imagination run wild again. He'd been reading too many old tales, that was all. But as they continued back toward the village, he couldn't ignore the gnawing feeling in his gut that something strange was about to happen.
The day passed in the usual flurry of chores: feeding the animals, gathering firewood, helping his father repair a broken fence. By the time evening fell, Marcus's arms ached, and his back was sore. He was about to head to bed when his father called him into the main room.
"Sit down, Marcus," his father said, his tone serious.
Marcus sat, glancing between his father and the old wooden chest that his father had placed on the table. The chest was plain, worn from years of use, but something about it seemed different tonight. His father opened it, revealing a small bundle wrapped in faded cloth. Gently, he unwrapped it, and Marcus's eyes widened as he saw what lay inside: a small, intricately carved amulet in the shape of a dragon.
"What…what is that?" Marcus asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"This belonged to your mother," his father replied, his voice heavy with emotion. "She wanted you to have it when you were old enough to understand its meaning."
Marcus reached out, his fingers brushing against the amulet. It was cool to the touch, its surface smooth and polished. The dragon's eyes were made of tiny, dark stones, and as he held it, he felt a strange warmth radiate from it, as if it were alive.
"Your mother was a remarkable woman," his father continued. "She came from a distant land, a place where dragons were more than legends. She used to tell me that our world is filled with mysteries, hidden right before our eyes. She believed that dragons were still out there, somewhere."
Marcus looked up, his heart pounding. "Do you believe that?"
His father hesitated, then sighed. "I don't know. But I know that your mother believed it with all her heart. And she wanted you to believe, too."
Marcus held the amulet tightly, a sense of wonder filling him. All his life, he had felt different, as if he didn't quite belong in the quiet world of Talmor. And now, for the first time, he felt that he had a connection to something greater, something ancient and powerful.
"Take care of it, Marcus," his father said, his voice solemn. "It may be more than just an amulet. Your mother always said it would lead you to your destiny."
That night, Marcus lay awake, staring at the amulet in his hand. The dragon's eyes seemed to glimmer faintly in the darkness, and as he closed his eyes, he felt a warmth spreading through him. Images danced in his mind—visions of mountains, forests, and a great shadow passing over the land.
Suddenly, he found himself standing in a vast, open field under a dark sky. The ground was scorched and cracked, and a fierce wind blew around him, carrying the scent of smoke. In the distance, he saw a shape—a massive, winged creature rising from the earth, its scales glinting in the light of a distant fire. It let out a roar, a sound so powerful it shook the ground beneath his feet.
He wanted to run, to hide, but something held him in place. The dragon turned, its eyes locking onto his, and in that moment, he felt a connection unlike anything he had ever known. The dragon's gaze was intense, filled with both wisdom and sorrow, as if it could see straight into his soul.
Then, just as quickly as it had begun, the vision faded, and Marcus was back in his bed, gasping for breath. He clutched the amulet to his chest, his heart racing. He didn't know what he had seen, but one thing was certain: it was no ordinary dream.
He lay awake until dawn, the memory of the dragon's eyes burned into his mind. And as the first light of day crept into his room, he made a decision. He would find the truth about the dragons, no matter where it led him.
Unbeknownst to him, his journey had already begun.