DaoistYddFra

Life can push you to the age of insanity,.A brief glimpse into Errin’s Journey and The Forgotten Valley.

Errin, a man of unknown origins, stumbles upon The Forgotten Valley, a place of profound mystery, where time moves differently, and reality bends like a dream. Drawn in by its untouched beauty and the simple life it offers, he soon finds himself entwined with its people, its customs, and a woman who binds him to the valley in ways he never anticipated. As he fathers children, his role transforms from an outsider to an integral part of the valley’s hidden truths.

But The Forgotten Valley is not just a place—it is an enigma. A world that exists between existence and illusion, where time can stretch a century into a fortnight. Errin lives through lifetimes, experiencing the joys of family, the serenity of nature, and the burden of questions that have no answers. His children grow into extraordinary beings, drawn into powerful sects beyond the valley, where cultivation, trials, and the fate of entire bloodlines are decided by strength.

Yet, a lingering uncertainty remains. Is The Forgotten Valley a sanctuary or a prison? Is his life there real, or merely a fleeting dream? When he finally leaves the valley, time reveals its cruel hand—only twelve years have passed in the outside world, while he has lived for over a century within (144year). Doubt consumes him. Was it all an illusion?

As he nears the end of his life, longing for the valley but unable to return, he entrusts the journey to his sons. Three set out, but only one succeeds. That son finds the valley changed—vast, filled with countless souls living in quiet harmony. His experience mirrors but does not replicate his father’s. And in the end, when Errin dies, he wakes once more… Was The Forgotten Valley real, or was it simply a dream too vivid to forget? Is life real, a dream or a mirror of domething else?

join me and lets walk the journey of ERRIN the outsider

ERRIN THE OUTSIDER

Memories Like Echoes

The faceless figures loomed before him, their hollow gazes piercing through the fragile remains of his certainty. Their presence was not hostile, nor was it welcoming. They simply were—like echoes of something forgotten, waiting for him to remember.

Errin stepped forward, drawn to the empty throne at the center of the great hall. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat stirring something deep within.

Memories, like shattered glass, pieced themselves together.

A war among the stars. A realm beyond the valley. A name spoken in reverence, in fear.

But just as he reached for it, the vision shifted.

The palace faded. The faceless figures dissolved like mist.

And suddenly, he was standing in a sunlit field, the scent of wildflowers thick in the air.

Before he had arrived as an outsider. Before he had forgotten.

Figures moved around him—people he recognized. The storyteller, younger, laughing as she carried a basket of fruit. The villagers, faces familiar yet different, untouched by time.

A name formed on his lips. The name he had forgotten.

Pain tore through him as memories surged like a flood, too much, too fast. Visions of lifetimes collapsed upon him—cities of gold, battles fought beneath burning skies, a love lost to time itself.

His knees buckled. His vision blurred.

And as the valley faded once more, one truth remained, echoing through his mind like a whisper from the past:

He had never been just an outsider.

Chapter 13: Memories Like Echoes.