Chapter 1: The Calm before the storm

The air was crisp with the scent of pine and damp earth, the kind of morning that carried an eerie stillness. Lorian crouched low behind a thicket, his sharp green eyes fixed on the buck grazing a few meters ahead. His heartbeat slowed as he steadied his breathing, fingers tightening around the smooth curve of his bow.

A gentle breeze swept through the forest, rustling the canopy above and causing dappled light to shift across the moss-covered ground. He could hear everything—the distant trill of a bird, the faint rustling of leaves, and the rhythmic, almost hypnotic sound of the buck chewing.

Hunting had always been second nature to him. Out here, beyond the village, he felt in control. There were no expectations, no voices whispering about how weak his magic was, no reminders of what he lacked. Just him, the wilderness, and the quiet understanding between predator and prey.

His fingers brushed against the fletching of his arrow. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he focused, feeling the familiar pull of magic in his mind. It wasn't much—just a whisper of power, barely noticeable compared to those who could summon flames or crush boulders with a mere thought—but it was enough. The arrow shimmered faintly as his magic latched onto it, adjusting its trajectory ever so slightly.

He loosed it.

The arrow cut through the air in a blur, striking the buck cleanly through the heart. The creature tensed, its legs stiffening before giving out beneath it. A clean kill.

Lorian exhaled, rising from his crouch as he slung his bow over his back. He approached the fallen animal, kneeling beside it for a moment before hauling it onto his shoulders. The weight was familiar, grounding.

As he started his trek back to the village, the forest around him remained undisturbed, save for the distant chatter of birds. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting long golden streaks across the earth. If he ignored everything else—his magic, the dungeons, the wars brewing between adventurers and beasts—he could almost pretend life was simple.

Almost.

By the time he reached the edge of the forest, the village of Rynvale stretched before him. Nestled in a valley, its stone cottages and thatched rooftops were bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and the faint hum of conversation and laughter drifted through the air.

He paused for a moment at the crest of the hill, adjusting the weight of the buck on his shoulders. This was home. Or at least, it had been for as long as he could remember.

The dungeons had changed everything.

It had been five years since the first dungeon appeared—a massive, otherworldly gateway that had erupted into existence overnight. Since then, the world had been thrown into chaos. Monsters, treasure, magic—things that had once been the stuff of legends were now a part of everyday life.

For some, it was a golden age. Dungeons meant power, riches, and fame. But for others, like Lorian, it was just another reminder of how far behind he was.

His magic was weak. A mere trick, barely strong enough to guide an arrow, certainly not enough to carve a name for himself as an adventurer. And so, while others chased glory, he hunted.

As he made his way down the dirt path, a familiar voice called out.

"Late again, Lorian."

Selene stood near the village gate, arms crossed, silver-blue eyes glinting in the fading light. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back, shifting slightly in the evening breeze.

Lorian smirked. "Someone's gotta keep food on the table."

Selene rolled her eyes but smiled. "You know, there's more to life than just hunting, right?"

Behind her, Alex and Aiden—the inseparable twins—were waiting. Alex, tall and broad-shouldered, grinned as he gestured to the buck slung over Lorian's shoulders.

"That's a solid catch," Alex said, clapping Lorian on the back. "But tell me, when are you gonna stop playing hunter and start joining real fights?"

Aiden, the quieter of the two, leaned against the gate, his piercing gaze unreadable. "Strength isn't everything," he murmured. "A sharp mind and heart matter more."

Lorian sighed, shifting the weight of the buck. "And what would I fight with? My ability to nudge arrows a few inches?"

Selene stepped forward, her voice softer now. "You're more than just your magic, Lorian. You don't need it to be great."

Alex grinned. "Yeah, come with us. Join an adventurer party. There's a dungeon nearby—we're scouting it tomorrow. We could use you."

Lorian hesitated.

It wasn't the first time they had asked. And maybe it should have been easy to say yes—to throw himself into the chaos and carve out his own destiny.

But deep down, fear held him back. Not just fear of failure, but of what it would mean if he truly tried… and still wasn't enough.

"I'll think about it," he said finally.

Selene studied him for a moment before nodding. "That's all I ask."

They turned toward the village square, laughter and conversation filling the air as Emric—another of their friends—launched into a wild story about their last dungeon raid. Lorian listened, but his thoughts remained tangled.

Then, the world shifted.

The warmth of the evening vanished, replaced by a bone-chilling cold. The laughter and conversation died instantly. A strange hum filled the air, low and unnatural, vibrating beneath their feet.

Lorian's skin prickled.

"Do you feel that?" Mira asked, already gripping the hilt of her dagger.

A ripple passed through the square, a pressure that made the air feel too thick, too heavy.

Then, it happened.

A point of light appeared at the center of the square, hovering inches above the cobblestones. It was no larger than a coin at first, but its presence was suffocating.

The light pulsed.

It expanded.

A jagged line cut through the air like a tear in reality itself, stretching and twisting until it formed a massive obsidian doorway. Twenty feet tall, etched with glowing runes, its edges shimmered like a mirage.

The hum grew louder, turning into a roar. A cold wind seeped from the doorway, carrying with it the scent of decay.

Lorian couldn't move.

This wasn't just any dungeon.

It was something else.

Something worse.

Selene stepped forward, her expression grim. "This… this isn't normal."

Panic spread through the villagers. Some ran, while others froze, their faces pale with terror. The very air seemed to tremble.

Then, from the depths of the doorway, a sound emerged.

A deep, guttural growl.

And the world, as Lorian knew it, changed forever...