The golden sunlight bathed the open field as Artreus and Rafaela walked together, their small feet rustling through the tall grass. A gentle breeze carried the faint scent of wildflowers, and the sound of birds chirping filled the serene air.
Artreus glanced at Rafaela, still slightly groggy from his earlier nap. "Did you… watch me sleep the whole time?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Rafaela, who was walking backward with her hands clasped behind her back, gave him a cheeky grin. "Hmm… yeah. You looked so peaceful when you were asleep," she said, her voice teasing. "Then you had a nightmare and started sleep talking, calling for your mama!"
Artreus' face turned red, and he stopped in his tracks. "H-Huh? No way! I never said that! You're just making it up!" he stammered, his embarrassment clear.
Rafaela giggled, twirling around to face forward again. "Oh, but you did! You were all like, 'Mama! Mama, don't leave me!'" she teased, mimicking his voice.
"Never!" Artreus protested, crossing his arms with a pout. "You're lying!"
Rafaela chuckled, her laughter light and infectious. She skipped a few steps ahead, then stopped abruptly, her expression lighting up as if she'd remembered something. "Oh, I almost forgot!" she exclaimed, turning back to him. "There's this book I want to show you. I think you'll really like it."
Before Artreus could respond, Rafaela grabbed his hand and began pulling him along. "Come on, Artie! Today's a special day!" she said, her excitement contagious.
Artreus sighed but couldn't help smiling as they ran together. "You're always so bossy," he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone.
The two of them laughed as they hurried across the field, the rooftops of Ozamian growing closer in the distance.
Ozamian: A Town of Celebration
The town of Ozamian shimmered under the golden sunlight, alive with vibrant colors and the bustling energy of its people. Bright banners swayed in the breeze, and lanterns of every color hung overhead, waiting to light up the evening sky. The smell of freshly baked bread and sizzling roasted meats filled the air, mingling with the fragrant blossoms that adorned the vendor stalls.
The streets were packed with townsfolk—humans and demi-humans alike—preparing for the evening festival. Performers danced and juggled in the town square, their antics drawing laughter and cheers from the crowd. Children, their faces painted in colorful designs, weaved through the throngs, their laughter ringing out like music.
Even the Knights of Ozamian, clad in their gleaming armor, were part of the festivities. They worked alongside the townsfolk, raising tents, carrying supplies, and sharing jokes with the vendors. Their commanding presence didn't feel out of place; instead, it added to the town's sense of joy and unity.
Near the bustling square stood Alaric, the Captain of the Knights. He was a towering man with broad shoulders and streaks of silver in his dark hair, a sign of both his age and wisdom. His armor, though polished and gleaming, bore the scuffs of countless battles. He'd removed his helmet, revealing a rugged face softened by a warm smile.
Alaric helped a vendor secure a large wooden pole holding up a festival tent. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he called out, "There! That should hold. Make sure to double-check the ropes—last year's gust nearly brought the whole thing down!"
As he finished speaking, a group of children ran up to him, tugging at his cape. Their wide-eyed excitement was impossible to ignore.
One of the children, barely able to contain their awe, asked, "Sir Knight, is it true? Is it true that the monsters and their king were defeated by King Arthur?"
Alaric knelt down, meeting their eager gazes with a smile. "It's true," he said, his voice steady and kind. "That's why we're celebrating today. This festival is for World Hero Day, honoring Arthur and his victory over the Demon King. Thanks to him, we now live in peace. No more monsters to keep you awake at night, and no more danger in our town."
The children gasped, their awe growing. One of them puffed out their chest, declaring, "I'm going to be a knight someday! Just like Arthur! I'll slay all the monsters!"
"Me too!" another chimed in, their excitement contagious.
Alaric chuckled, his deep laugh rumbling like a comforting storm. "Brave little ones," he said, ruffling one child's hair. He glanced around at the bustling town—the laughter, the colors, the music. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel the peace they had all fought so hard to achieve.
Quietly, he murmured to himself, "Arthur… look at what you've done. You've given us a world free of fear. The people are happy, the children are inspired, and peace has returned—not just to Ozamian, but to the world."
He straightened up, his smile returning as he prepared to oversee the rest of the preparations. The sun shone brightly over the town, but in his heart, he knew the light of peace shone brighter.
The Wanderer's Book
As they strolled through the open field, the rooftops of Ozamian visible in the distance, Rafaela pulled a leather-bound book from her satchel, her excitement evident in the way her eyes sparkled.
"Look at this!" she said, holding the book up in front of Artreus with a grin.
Artreus raised an eyebrow, his expression unimpressed. "A book of what? A fairytale where a prince kisses a princess to wake her up from eternal sleep?" His voice was flat, but there was a faint smirk at the edge of his lips.
"Ha ha, very funny," Rafaela replied, rolling her eyes. "It's not that. This book is about the wonders of the world! Imagine floating islands, ancient cities deep underground, and magical forests hiding kingdoms of elves." Her voice rose with excitement, and she held the book close to her chest. "My great-great-grandfather, Raphael, wrote this. It's all based on his travels. And it's real."
Artreus glanced at the book, then back at Rafaela. "Sounds... amazing, I guess," he said with a shrug. "But I'm more into fighting stuff—like beating up orcs and kicking their butts."
Rafaela's bright expression faltered for a moment. "Fighting? That's all you ever think about," she said with a sigh. "The world isn't just about battles and swords, Artie. It's full of mysteries, magic, and so much more."
"Yeah, yeah," Artreus said, waving her off. "None of that matters. We live in an era of peace now. That book your great-great-grandfather wrote? It's old. Most of that stuff doesn't even exist anymore—except elves and dwarves, maybe."
Rafaela stopped walking and looked at him seriously. "Artie, you can't move forward into the future without understanding the past. If we don't learn from it, we won't know what to do when things go wrong."
She held the book out to him. "This book is special to me. It's not just some boring history—it's his experiences, his life. I've already read it, so now it's your turn. Please, just try."
Artreus hesitated, staring at the book for a long moment before finally taking it from her. "Fine," he muttered, his cheeks faintly red. "But I'm only reading it because you're insisting."
Rafaela's smile returned, bright and cheerful. "Try to read it with some feelings, Artie! I promise it won't let you down."
The Alleyway Incident
As they walked through Ozamian's busy streets, the sounds of the festival growing louder in the distance, Artreus noticed a commotion in a shadowy alley. A group of older boys—Nash, Drake, and Willston—were picking on two younger kids, Lars and his little sister, Jane. Lars stood protectively in front of Jane, who clutched his arm, her eyes wide with fear.
"Give my sister's doll back!" Lars shouted, his small voice full of defiance.
Nash smirked, tossing the doll in the air. "Oh, you want it? Come and get it, small fry."
The doll flew between the bullies as Nash threw it to Drake, then to Willston, keeping it just out of Lars' reach.
"Stop it!" Jane cried, her voice trembling.
Drake sneered. "Aw, is she gonna cry?"
"Gonna cry?" Willston mocked, laughing.
Lars clenched his fists, anger flashing in his eyes. "Leave her alone, you jerks!" he yelled, swinging a punch at Nash.
But Nash easily sidestepped the attack and shoved Lars back. "Ha! Nice try, loser."
Just as Nash raised his fist to strike Lars, a figure stepped into the alley. Artreus.
Without warning, Artreus delivered a powerful punch to Nash's face, knocking him back a few steps. "Hey, can I join the fun?" Artreus asked with a smirk. "I've been meaning to try my new move. It's called the Superman Punch."
The bullies froze, startled by Artreus' sudden appearance. Drake knelt to check on Nash. "Nash, you okay? It's Artreus! Where did he even come from?"
Nash scowled, wiping the blood from his lip. "Get him!"
The three charged at Artreus, but he was ready. As Drake swung at him, Artreus dodged effortlessly, countering with a quick jab. "Ha! Missed me!" he taunted.
One by one, the bullies fell to Artreus' wrestling moves, each hit precise and devastating. But as Nash grabbed him from behind, Drake landed a solid punch to his stomach. "We got him now!" Nash sneered. "You think you're something just because you're Arthur's brother? You're nothing compared to him!"
Before Nash could say more, Lars jumped in, kicking Drake in the shin and tackling Willston to the ground. The distraction gave Artreus the opening he needed to break free and land a final punch on Nash.
"How dare you talk about my brother like that?" Artreus growled. "He saved the world and brought peace to it! And you're just here bullying kids? You deserve this!"
As Artreus raised his fist again, a voice cut through the chaos.
"Stop!"
It was Rafaela, standing at the alley's entrance with her arms crossed. Her golden hair shone in the sunlight, and her piercing gaze made even Nash hesitate.
"Rafaela..." Nash stammered, his face flushing.
"I can't believe you guys," Rafaela said sternly. "Picking on kids just because you're older and bigger? Bullying is wrong. I'm disappointed in all of you."
Nash fumbled for words, his tough facade cracking. "We… we were just messing around. Come on, guys. Let's go."
The bullies quickly retreated, leaving Lars and Jane to breathe a sigh of relief. Rafaela turned to Artreus, raising an eyebrow. "You okay, Artie?"
Artreus shrugged, dusting himself off. "I could've handled them."
Rafaela smirked. "Of course you could've. You're Artie."
Rafaela doubled over with laughter, her giggles echoing through the alley. "Superman Punch? Where did you even come up with that move?" she teased, her bright eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hahaha! That's the funniest thing I've heard all day!"
Artreus crossed his arms, his face turning red. "Hey! Every great fighter has a name for their moves," he retorted, trying to defend himself. "My brother told me that."
Rafaela smirked, clearly enjoying herself. "Oh, really? Then I'll come up with my own move. How about the Ultra Punch? Way more powerful than your Superman Punch!"
Artreus groaned, his embarrassment growing. "Okay, now you're just mocking me…" he muttered, looking away.
Rafaela giggled, patting his shoulder. "Maybe I am. But you're just too easy to tease, Artie."
Before Artreus could respond, Lars and Jane approached them. Lars grinned sheepishly. "Thanks, you guys. Especially you, Art," he said. "You really helped me out back there. Those jerks always pick on us, even when we're just trying to enjoy the festival."
Artreus placed a hand on Lars' shoulder, his grin returning. "Don't mention it. We've got each other's backs, buddy. That's what friends are for."
Rafaela chimed in with a smile. "Artreus is right. If those bullies bother you again, we'll all stand together. Stronger as a team."
Lars nodded, his expression softening. "Thanks. That means a lot."
Rafaela bent down and picked up the doll the bullies had stolen, brushing the dirt off it before handing it to Jane. "Here you go, Jane," she said warmly.
Jane clutched the doll close to her chest, her face lighting up. "Thank you, Rafaela!"
Rafaela smiled, but her attention quickly shifted to Lars. She noticed a small scratch on his hand. "Oh no, Lars! You've got a scratch!" she said, concern lacing her voice.
Lars looked down at it and shrugged. "It's nothing. Just a little scratch. Don't bother with it."
Rafaela frowned. "A little scratch can still get infected," she said matter-of-factly. "Good thing I brought my handkerchief." She pulled it from her pocket and gently began wrapping it around Lars' hand. "My dad always says to cover wounds to prevent infections. I'll help clean it properly later. I don't want you losing your hand over something small!" She tied the handkerchief neatly, finishing with a small ribbon knot.
Lars blushed, his cheeks turning bright red. "Uh… thanks, Rafaela," he muttered, avoiding her gaze.
Artreus, watching the exchange, couldn't help but groan. He stepped between them and karate-chopped the air dramatically. "Yo! Enough with the hand-holding! You're gonna get cooties or something!" he teased.
Rafaela's smile vanished as she glared at him, clearly annoyed. "You jerk!" she snapped, punching Artreus squarely on the head.
"Ow! That hurts!" Artreus yelped, rubbing the sore spot.
From the sidelines, Lars and Jane exchanged a glance. "She's scary sometimes…" Jane whispered, her voice tinged with awe.
"Yeah…" Lars agreed.
Rafaela huffed, her fists still clenched. "Come on, you guys," she said, turning away and gesturing for them to follow. "Let's go enjoy the festival before Artie says something else dumb."
The group fell in line behind her, laughter bubbling among them. They wandered through the bustling streets of Ozamian, joining in the celebration. They played tag in the open square, snacked on sweet pastries and candied fruits, and tried their hand at festival games. The town was alive with joy, and for now, so were they.