I always wanted to be a hero.
Ever since I was a kid, I imagined standing tall, wielding a mighty sword, and protecting the innocent from evil. I dreamed of soaring through the skies, fighting monstrous creatures, and saving the world from destruction. But in my world, there was no such thing as heroes. No magic, no grand battles, no destined warriors. Just normal people living ordinary lives.
I wasn't special. Just a boy with a wild imagination.
"Grow up, Waine," my father used to say whenever I spoke about my dreams. "There's no place for heroes in this world."
Maybe he was right. Maybe I was just a fool.
But even as I grew older, that dream never left me.
And then, on the night of my sixteenth birthday, everything changed.
The moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale glow over the quiet village. The air was still, the streets empty. I had just finished celebrating with my family if you could even call it a celebration. A simple dinner, a few words from my parents, and that was it. Sixteen years of life, and yet I felt no closer to my dream.
With a sigh, I stepped outside, letting the cool night air brush against my skin. That's when I saw it a brilliant red light pulsing from the depths of the nearby forest. It was unlike anything I had ever seen, flickering like fire yet shimmering like a star.
Something inside me told me to run. To turn back.
But I couldn't.
My legs moved on their own, carrying me toward the unknown.
The deeper I went into the forest, the stronger the light became. It called to me, whispering in a language I couldn't understand. My heart pounded as I stepped into a clearing, where the light swirled like a vortex, crackling with energy.
Then, everything went white.
For a moment, I felt weightless, as if floating in a sea of nothingness. A deafening silence surrounded me, and then I fell.
The ground slammed into me with force, knocking the air from my lungs. My vision blurred, my head spun. But as I forced myself up, the world around me was... different. The trees were taller, their leaves glowing faintly. The sky was painted in shades of purple and gold. Strange creatures moved in the distance, their eyes gleaming in the dark.
This wasn't my world.
I had been transported somewhere else.
I didn't know where I was. I didn't know how I got here. But as fear and confusion crept into my mind, a gentle voice called out to me.
"Are you alright, child?"
I turned to see an old woman standing before me, her eyes filled with warmth and wisdom. She wore simple robes, and her silver hair flowed down her back.
She introduced herself as Granny Clora, and for some reason, I felt safe.
She took me in, gave me food and shelter, and for two months, I learned about this new world. Magic existed here. Powerful beings roamed the land. And most importantly heroes were real.
This was my chance.
This was the world where I could finally become what I always dreamed of a hero.
And I would not waste it.
This is my story.
This is where it all begins.