The morning light filtered through the cracked wooden shutters of the small house on the edge of Green Hollow village.Darian had been awake for hours, his hands working deftly to repair an ancient radio salvaged from the village scrapyard. Tools—half rusted, half makeshift—lay scattered on the table. A flicker of static burst from the radio, and a triumphant grin crossed his face.

"Darian, breakfast is ready!" his mother called from the kitchen.

"Coming, Mom!"Darian's voice was thin, tired but filled with an energy that belied his wiry frame.

His mother, Clara, was the heart of their little home—a woman with a quiet strength who had singlehandedly raised him. She was a healer, known for her herbal remedies, but her hands were calloused from years of hard work.

Sitting at the table,Darian gobbled down a simple meal of bread and stew, listening as his mother spoke of her dreams for him.

"You're going to make something of yourself, Darian. This village…" She glanced out the window at the sprawling fields. "…it's too small for someone like you."

Darian nodded but didn't reply. The scholarship had been a miracle, the result of months spent designing a prototype for a tech competition—a gadget that blended circuitry with rudimentary enchantments he had stumbled upon in old books. The university in Solis City had accepted him with open arms.

Yet, as the days to his departure drew closer, unease gnawed at him. The city was a different world—one of power, magic, and opportunities. But it was also a place where people like him—fragile, awkward—could easily be swallowed whole.

---

The night before his departure,Darian sat with his mother under the stars.

"Mom, do you ever think about him?" he asked hesitantly.

Clara's face turned distant. "Your father…" She paused, a flicker of pain crossing her features. "He wasn't from around Darian. He was… different.

Like you"

"What do you mean?"Darian pressed, but Clara only shook her head.

"Someday, you'll understand."