As dawn broke over the small cottage, light streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on the wooden floor.
Sigrid's father, Eldrin, stood in the doorway, his figure silhouetted against the early morning light, his hands clasped before him.
His wife, Maria Houndspire, adjusted the collar of their son's coat. She had come down from that world of nobility to stand beside him, a preacher of Goal from a humble village Balvur, a small country side village, located in the west of the kingdom of Caldoria. And now, she was returning to Stormhowl, so that Sigrid could train there instead of with the Church of Goal.
[The roads are clear today.] Eldrin said, trying to steady his voice.
[It's a good sign that you should have a safe journey back to your family.]
The truth was, his heart clenched at the thought of parting because this might be the last time he saw his wife and son.
[I wish I could say you didn't have to go.] Eldrin said softly, his voice carrying a hint of sorrow.
Eldrin placed a hand on Sigrid's shoulder.
[You take care of your mother for me, alright? Once you reach Stormhowl, you'll be in the hands of the Houndspire, and they'll train you well.]
[Yes, father.]
Maria stepped forward, her cloak rustling softly as she reached out to embrace Eldrin, wrapping her arms around his smaller frame, and for a moment, it felt like she was shielding him from the world. Her embrace enveloped him entirely, her chin resting atop his head. She held him close, but her voice trembled.
[I'm sorry, I've been a terrible wife. I'm leaving you behind without even telling you why… I wish I could explain, but there are things you can't know, things I can't bear to put into words.]
Eldrin wrapped his arms around her tightly, as if to anchor he to not leave him.
[You're not a terrible wife.] he said, his voice soft but firm. [You've given me more than I ever deserved. I know it's not your choice. I only wish you didn't have to go.]
She pulled away slightly, her eyes glistening as she looked up at him. A silent plea for him to understand without knowing the details. She opened her mouth to say something more, but no words came out. Instead, she pressed a lingering kiss.
Sigrid watched it all unfold. *Sorry, father. It's not mom's fault, And it's not yours either.* he thought.
*If it's anyone's fault, it's mine for awaking as a Hero. But one day, I'll make it right.* Sigrid smirks.
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The mother and son duo rode on the same horse, with Sigrid sitting in front of his mother. He leaned back slightly against her, his small frame enveloped by her tall figure. Her arms rested on either side of him, loosely holding the reins while guiding the horse at a steady pace.
[You're quiet.] Maria said softly, leaning down to speak near his ear.
[What's on your mind?]
Sigrid glanced up.
[I was just thinking… Do you think father will be okay?]
[You miss him already huh.]
[Yeah, I do.]
[So do I.] Maria sighed.
[But your father is stronger than you think.] she replied, her voice calm but carrying a gentle reassurance. [And he's not truly alone. He has his work, the people in the village, and above all, he has his faith. Those things will help him. Just as you have me.]
[Enough with the heavy talk.] Maria said, breaking the quiet. [Let's lighten the mood a bit.]
[Tell me, Sig—what's your favorite thing about traveling?]
Sigrid blinked, surprised by the question. [My favorite thing?] He thought for a moment, then shrugged.
[I guess… it's nice to see different places. It's not like home, where everything is always the same.]
Maria nodded, encouraging him to continue.
[That's true. Every road has its own surprises. Do you remember the time we traveled through the Amberwood Forest and saw the fireflies?]
Sigrid's face lit up with the memory.
[Oh, yeah! They were everywhere, lighting up the whole forest. It looked like the stars had come down to dance around us.] He grinned. [And you said it was magic, but then I found out later that it wasn't.]
[Or when we went through the Misty Valley.] Sigrid continued, his eyes twinkling with nostalgia. [Do you remember how the fog wrapped around us like a soft blanket?]
Sigrid chuckled, recalling how they'd walked cautiously, peering into the thick mist.
[I thought we were going to get lost for sure. It felt like we had stepped into a different world.]
[And then, when the sun broke through, everything sparkled like it was covered in diamonds.] Maria said, her voice filled with warmth.
[That was so cool!] Sigrid exclaimed, his excitement bubbling over. [I didn't want to leave!]
[Neither did I.]
She paused for a second like remenising old time.
[Your father and I went though all those places together before.] Maria continued, her eyes misty with nostalgia.
[We didn't have a care in the world. It was just the two of us, a handful of supplies, and the open road stretching ahead.]
[That reminded me, mother.] Sigrid took out a small coin bag
[We are running low on money and our supplies are low. Yet, we have only gotten halfway through the journey.] Sigrid said, shaking the small coin bag. The faint clinking of a few coins echoed as he held it up.
[And it's kind of your fault, you know. You bought that fancy magic cloak back in Highstead instead of saving for the trip.]
Maria let out a small laugh, clearly amused by his accusation.
[Is that so? You seemed quite happy when I used it to keep us both warm during the cold nights.] she teased, giving him a playful nudge.
[It's still your fault.] he insisted.
Maria glancing ahead thoughtfully.
[Then it's settled.] Maria said, giving the reins a light tug to quicken their pace.
[We'll stop at the next town and see what the Adventurer's Guild has to offer.]
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As they approached the city gates, a pair of guards stepped forward, blocking the entrance with their spears. The larger of the two, a grizzled man with a thick beard, gave Maria and Sigrid an appraising look.
[Halt, travelers.] he said, his voice firm but not unfriendly.
[State your business and present your credentials.]
Maria reined in the horse and gave the guard a nod, her demeanor calm and assured.
[We're passing through on our way to Stormhowl.] she replied, her voice carrying a hint of authority.
[But we'll be staying for a day or two. My son and I need to visit the Adventurer's Guild.]
The guard's gaze flicked to Sigrid, then back to Maria.
[Stormhowl, eh?] He raised an eyebrow as he scanned her larger frame.
[Still need to see some identification or a guild badge. Can't let just anyone in. There have been... incidents lately.]
Maria reached into the folds of her cloak, producing a leather case. She opened it to reveal a small worn metal insignia bearing the symbol of the Adventurer's Guild—a crest that marked her as a registered adventurer.
[Here.] she said, holding it up for the guard's inspection.
The guard studied the badge for a moment, then nodded.
[That'll do. The boy doesn't look old enough for his own badge yet.] he said with a faint smile. [But if he's traveling with you, that's good enough for us.]
[Can you tell me more about the incidents?] Maria asked.
[Well. There had been claims of assassination attempts on the church's envoys traveling to mediate the conflict between the Carlanes House and the Brackenmoors House.]
Sigrid's eyes widened as the guard spoke, and a chill ran down his spine.
[Sig, what is it? You're trembling. Are you sick?]Maria placed her hand on Sigrid's forehead to checked her son temperature.
[You are sweating heavily.]
[The boy must be tired from the travel.]
The guard stepped aside
[Come on in now.]
[I'm fine, Mother.] he murmured, his voice unsteady.
[Just… tired. Like the guard said.]
Maria studied his face for a moment longer, but she didn't press him further. Instead, she turned to thank the guard.
[We appreciate it, sir. We'll head straight to the inn so that he can get some rest.]
The guard nodded and gave a slight wave.
[Take care now.]
They reached the town square, and Maria guided the horse toward the nearby inn, its sign swinging gently in the breeze.
Maria dismounted and helped Sigrid down from the horse, her grip firm on his arm.
[Come, let's get some rest first.]
Sigrid nodded.
As they stepped inside the inn, the warm glow of the hearth greeted them, and the scent of roasting meat filled the air. The common room was bustling with activity—travelers exchanging stories, merchants haggling over prices, and adventurers comparing tales of their latest quests. It was lively, but Sigrid could feel an undercurrent of unease running through the chatter.
Maria approached the innkeeper, a burly man with a graying beard and a kindly expression.
[A room for the night, please.] she said, sliding a few coins across the counter.
The innkeeper glanced over at Sigrid, then back at Maria, his brow creasing slightly.
[Rough day on the road, eh?]
[Just a bit of travel weariness.] Maria replied, giving a reassuring smile.
[My son could use some rest.]
[Of course. Room's up the stairs, second door on the right.] The innkeeper handed Maria a key.
Once they reached their room, a modest space with a single bed and a small window overlooking the square, Maria closed the door behind them and placed a hand on Sigrid's shoulder.
[I'm going to go see what I can find out .]
Maria gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and a kiss on Sigrid's forehead.
[I'll be back soon. Stay here and rest.]
As Maria left the room, closing the door quietly behind her, Sigrid lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He could hear the faint murmur of voices drifting up from the common room below.
He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, but the memories kept clawing at the edges of his mind. And slowly, he drifted into the embrace of dream.
In the dream, he was a young man worn down by the harshness of life. He had been a Goalless.
Year after year, his father used whatever connections he had to request that the church allow Sigrid to undergo the ceremony to awaken a Goal once more. But it was to no avail; each time, the ritual failed to reveal a calling for him.
Thanks to his mother, he managed to to become a guard. Everyday, he wore heavy armor and stood watch at the never ending refugee as the wars between the Carlanes and Brackenmoors spiraled out of control and spread across the realm. With a sword he barely knew how to wield, he had cut down people because of food shortage and unrest.
And then, The King of Caldoria and the church blamed Houndspire for inciting the wars to appease the people's fury forcing his family into hiding. His mother had fought tooth and nail to protect them, her towering figure as resolute as the fortress they hid within. But it hadn't been enough.
He remembered vividly the night she died.
His father and mother had been cornered. His mother stood in front of his father, shield raised, fending off the attackers with her unmatched skill and strength.
But there were too many of them.
Sigrid had been helpless, paralyzed by the sight of his mother bleeding out, her body shielding his father until her last breath. _I should've done something._
Meanwhile, Elara, his first love, had taken a different path. Unlike Sigrid, she had obtained a Goal— The Saintess. She joined the church soon after, training tirelessly in the holy arts. Her potential did not go unnoticed, and eventually, she became part of the Hero's company, charged with standing against the looming threat of the demon kings.
But even her light couldn't pierce the shadow that followed. The invasion of the four demon kings was unlike any war humanity had faced before. This wasn't a mere clash of armies or skirmishes over territory; it was as if the very forces of nature had turned against them. Demons swept across the land in a tide of darkness, corrupting the earth itself, poisoning rivers, and withering crops. Once fertile fields became barren wastelands. Cities fell one by one, and the world seemed to crumble under the weight of despair.
The Heroes kept coming—brave souls chosen by destiny to rise against the darkness—but one after another, they fell. Their names, once spoken in reverence, became mere footnotes in the chronicles of failure. For twenty grueling years, humanity struggled on, their ranks dwindling, their hope fading. The once-unified front against the demon invasion crumbled as infighting and despair took root. Alliances shattered, and kingdoms turned inward, focusing on their own survival rather than the greater good.
In the end, only one human remained.
Sigrid stood atop a mountain of demon corpses, his once-ordinary lance now radiating a fierce, blinding light. Blood—human and demon alike—soaked the ground beneath him. His armor, patched together from fallen Heroes' armors, was battered and stained, but still he stood, laughing like a madman as he surveyed the twisted landscape.
A translucent panel appeared before him.
---Long time no see.---
The message felt strangely familiar, like a voice from a distant past—yet there was no sound, only the words hanging in the air.
It had appeared to him once before, when he had been chosen as the Hero in the that timeline.
More words materialized on the panel, the glow intensifying slightly:
---You must have forgotten me, haven't you? Not surprised, consider the state you were in last time.---
[Are you Goal?] Sigrid hesitated, then whispered.
The panel flickered, as if considering its response.
---I am and I am not. An echo is more suitable to describe me.---
The panel started to show some cracks.
[What's all this?]
---This my friend. It's the original timeline. It should have ended with your death. But before you died, you have met the condition of a certain skill.---
---I know you have a lot of questions but I don't have much time. I am barely holding with the remaining divinity in that worldline.---
The panel continued.
---It's a good thing that this time you are chosen as a Hero from the start and not at the end. But will that be enough?---
Sigrid contemplate about all the Heroes including him who failed.
---With the remaining divinity, I can give you your memory of that timeline. The memory will be useful but painful.---
Sigrid's chest tightened at the mention of his old memories.
The panel flickered again, as if struggling to stay intact.
---The choice is yours.---
He took a deep breath, his hand hovering over the choice presented on the cracked panel.
[If remembering gives me even the slightest edge to stop what's coming... then I have no choice.]
Sigrid pressed the **Yes** option.
---Very Good. But be warned, Hero. Don't break like me.---
The panel shattered, releasing a burst of light that surged into his mind.
Sigrid woke up and yelled out in pain. It was as if a dam had broken inside his head, flooding his consciousness with scenes from the past timeline: the battles, the screams, the blood-soaked earth; leaving him gasping for air as he collapsed to his knees.. He saw his mother fall before him, her final breath leaving her lips as she shielded his father. He saw his childhood friend, Elara stood defiantly before a Demon King, only to be struck down. And he saw himself—an exhausted shell of a man, swinging a sword with empty eyes, killing just to stay alive.
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[Lady Maria, it has been some time.] a well-dressed man with a commanding presence sat opposite of Maria.
[It has, hasn't it? Mercer.]
[Or should I say Lord Mercer.]
Mercer, one of the most influential merchants in the kingdom of Caldoria. He was no mere trader, his network extended throughout the realm, and his exclusive contracts with noble houses made him a powerful figure in the political landscape.
Powerful enough for the king to granted Mercer the right to manage the city of Draevenhall, the gateway to the eastern part of the kingdom, to keep an eye on Mercer and restricted him from the political landscape.
But his most important contract was with the Houndspire family, who supplied his merchants with mana stones and enchanted weaponry collected from dungeons.
[You flatter me, Lady Maria. How may the lord of this humble city assists Lady Maria?]
[I'm not here for pleasantries, Mercer. I want information. Information regarding the conflict between the Carlanes House and the Brackenmoors House.] Maria's voice was cold, cutting through the air like a blade.
Mercer's expression shifted, his brow furrowing as he considered her request. He leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands together on the table.
[I've heard troubling things.] Mercer said after a moment.
[It's not much, but it may give you a clearer picture of the situation.]
[Go on.] Maria replied.
[Several weeks ago, my sources uncovered a shipment sent to House Carlanes and House Brackenmoors. The cargo was disguised as simple trade goods, but upon closer inspection, it was clear that these were high-quality armanents meant for war. The strange part is that the craftsmanship didn't match anything from local smithies.]
[Then where did they come from?] Maria asked.
Mercer's expression darkening.
[That's the troubling part. The craftsmanship resembles that of your House's forges, Lady Maria.]
[That's quite the development.] Maria replied.
[It's a bold move, no doubt. Whoever is behind this, they're not just trying to escalate the conflict between those Houses—they're trying to drag the Houndspire into it as well.] Mercer leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming softly against the table.
Maria clenched her jaw, a cold anger settling in her chest.
[If those weapons are found on the battlefield, everyone will assume your family supplied them. It would paint Houndspire and your company as war profiteers, wouldn't it?]
Mercer took a sip of tea.
[Whoever it is, they know the inner workings of your House. The techniques, the materials, even the enchantments—none of this could be imitated so precisely without inside knowledge.] Mercer continued
[Which means there may be a traitor within Houndspire.] Mercer said, her voice low and edged with steel.
[It's one possibility, certainly.] Mercer added.
[And what about House Carlanes and House Brackenmoors? What has been happening there while I've been away from politics?] Maria asked.
Mercer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he considered how best to explain the volatile situation that had unfolded over the past year.
[It's a mess, Lady Maria. A year ago, Marquess Carlanes has grown more reclusive as his health continues to decline, leaving a power vacuum that his eldest son, Gareth, has been all too eager to fill.]
[Gareth Carlanes's reputation for cruelty is well-known. But his excesses don't stop there. His taste for luxuries has put a strain on the House's finances. He's taken to raising taxes on the smallfolk, squeezing them for every coin while he throws opulent feasts for his closest supporters. It's caused unrest among the people, but anyone who speaks out is quickly silenced.]
Maria's expression darkened. She had no sympathy for the likes of Gareth Carlanes, but the plight of the common folk troubled her.
[What about Lady Brackenmoors's situation?] Maria asked.
[It's not much better, I'm afraid. About the same time as Marquess Carlanes's health declined, Countess Brackenmoors… well, she went mad. It happened suddenly, without warning. One day she was the sharp, calculating matriarch we all knew, and the next… she was accusing shadows of plotting against her, ranting about curses, passing strange laws that make no sense.]
[Two Houses in disarray, led by leaders whom the people hate. It's a breeding ground for utter chaos.] Maria sighed.
[You've given me much to think about, Mercer.]
Maria stood up from her chair.
Mercer moved to stand as well, but Maria held up a hand, indicating that there was more to discuss.
[There's one more thing I need from you, Mercer]
[What is it, Lady Maria?] Garrick asked.
[Send a message to the current head of House Houndspire. Request that one hundred knights be dispatched to join us at once.]
Mercer hesitated, an expression of unease crossing his face.
[The Stormhowl estate has become… reclusive as of late.] Mercer admitted.
[They've refused visitors for some time now, and even turned away envoys from the crown and the church.] Mercer continued.
Maria nodded, not appearing surprised. [It's that time again huh.]
Mercer's brow furrowed, but before he could question her meaning, she continued, [Tell them that the request comes from Maria Houndspire, and my son, Sigrid Houndspire, the Hero of this age. I will spread the word that House Houndspire stands with my son in this conflict.]
Maria took out a medallion and placed it on the table.
[If the Duke truly understands the weight of a Hero that associated with House Houndspire, he'll see that ignoring this request isn't an option.]
Mercer's eyes widened [The Hero? You're certain you want to reveal that now? Wouldn't that goes against Goal's teaching? Shouldn't you wait until the boy is 18? ]
Maria's gaze was unyielding.
There was a brief silence before Mercer finally nodded.
[Very well, Lady Maria. I'll see that the message is delivered]
Mercer took the medallion and stood up, offering Maria a respectful bow.
With that, Maria turned and exited the room.
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Maria entered the room, the door softly behind her as to not disturb .
But to Maria's surprise, Sigrid was sitting up in his bed, his gaze distant.
[Sig honey, how are you feeling?] Maria asked, her voice full of concern as she approached.
Sig looked up as Maria approached.
[Mother. I've had a revelation.]
[Huh?] Maria blinked, clearly taken aback by Sigrid.