Chapter 1 : Town of Murmurs

This was his story…. He who is born in this world made of ashes, still echoing with the memories of a time long buried beneath centuries of silence and survival. They said it had been seven hundred years since the great war…. or maybe more. But who knows?

The people called this time the "*Era of Adventurers",* a name born from the mouths of survivors, wanderers, and seekers. Those who remained now traveled the world, hunting beasts, unearthing epics, and chasing whispers buried beneath time. And on this day, Kael's story began the moment he reached his destination.

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The square was alive with heat, dust, and chaos.

Kael stepped off the bull-chariot. A cart dragged by a beast nearly three meters tall, packed with corded muscle, weighing well over three tons. Around him, a dozen more beasts shuffled, growled, groaned… unloading their cargo and passengers in a constant rhythm. This was a station. Loud, relentless, human.

The heat struck him like a fist. The air was dry, heavy with sweat and smoke. Warm wind swept across the plaza, lifting the corners of worn clothes, carrying the scent of spices and soot. His boots touched the baked stone road, and his eyes scanned the chaos: vendors shouting, meat sizzling, robes flapping in the gust, children ducking between carts. Every sound was a language; every movement, a history.

His clothes, though dusty and wrinkled from the road, were still stitched with the careful pride of a respectable home. Too clean for this place. Too intact. Eyes followed him, some curious, some wary, some quietly whispering.

*"Ahh… I'm so tired. I just want to sleep."* He muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

He started walking. Past smiths hammering away at broken carts and knives, past hunters trading pelts for bread, past boys scraping coins together for an evening meal. This was the western artery of 'Valemoor', a main road connecting nearby villages and eventually, the great capital itself. Always busy. Always brimming with life.

A group of workers caught his attention… hauling a massive iron gate into a stone archway, the beginnings of a new inn or temple. Their arms were lean, darkened by sun and work, and their faces glistened with salt and grit. Yet, there was pride in their effort. Resilience in their movements.

*'A hardworking community' ,* he thought, nodding to himself.

A sudden gust of wind kicked up a wall of sand and warmth. Even now.. past the five in the evening the heat still clung to the stones like a fever. Grit stung his cheeks and eyes. He shielded his face, feeling sweat trickle down his jaw. The wind cooled it just enough to feel alive.

*"Gods, it's hot even now? How do they live like this every day?"* he wondered, wiping his brow as he walked on, looking at people working.

Half an hour passed. The landscape began to shift.

The buildings grew taller. Cleaner. Walled courtyards replaced open storefronts. The shouts and clangs of the lower district faded into distant murmurs. Horse-drawn carriages replaced handcarts. This was a district of silence… where peace cost coin, and every brick was laid with caution.

At last, he stopped.

Before him stood a wrought-iron gate flanked by twin stone pillars. One bore a plaque—worn at the edges, touched by time, but still clear:

**Headmaster Elandor Vaelwyn**

The scent of flowers drifted on the wind, mingling with the cool moisture of a hidden fountain beyond the wall, as the gate creaked open.

A tall man in his fifties stepped forward… refined, silver-haired, but warm.

"Ahh… So you are finally back… Kael", he said, smiling.

"Well met, Uncle," Kael replied with a smile. "How've you been?"

"Like a horse… haha… tired, overworked, and still alive."

They shared a laugh as Kael stepped inside. The garden embraced him like memory… lush and alive. Insects hummed, butterflies danced, water trickled. The flowers reached toward the falling sun, and the breeze.. gentler here… wrapped around him like a mother's arms.

He closed his eyes in relief.

This was peace.

Then wood creaked. Footsteps. Light. Eager. Familiar.

"Brother! Brother's back!"

She sprinted into him like a flash of light, arms flung around his waist before he could even kneel. He scooped her up, kissed her brow. The garden, for all its beauty, seemed suddenly brighter.

"I waited so long for you brother…. Father said you were gone because i troubled you so much… I was so sad… don't go for so long again brother"

"What did you bring me?!" she asked, her eyes gleaming.

His smile faltered.

"Ah… I forgot," he whispered, almost ashamed.

Her joy crumpled in an instant. "What… Brother!!"

He opened his mouth to explain, but the front door creaked wider. Three figures emerged from the building infront of Kael.

At the front… his father.

Elandor Vaelwyn. Towering, serious, draped in white robes, spectacles perched on his nose with scholarly permanence. Behind him stood a young man and seemingly his butler. The man couldn't have been older than twenty-five… tall, cloaked in sable, carved of presence more than flesh. Elandor and the young man shook hands and that man started moving towards the horse cart standing aside. He looked at Kael directly, unblinking.

The gaze wasn't cruel—but assessing. Like a man judging not the boy before him, but the weight of his choices. A father deciding whether the stranger at the gates was worth listening to.

Kael gave a shallow bow.

The noble returned a nod… precise and cold.

The carriage rolled away. As it passed the gate, Kael caught the name etched in gold:

**"House Thornvale"**

He turned to his father.

"A noble?" he asked.

Elandor didn't miss a beat. "I was expecting a 'How've you been, Father?' ... I taught you better."

Kael smirked. "Alright then, how have you been, Headmaster Elandor Vaelwyn?"

Elandor laughed. "Better. Now that you're home."

They stood in silence for a moment. A pause filled with something unsaid.. affection and distance, both.

"I'm a headmaster now," Elandor said. "Meetings with nobles come with the burden. They need our resources. Our minds."

Kael nodded. He understood. The world had changed. Roles had been cast.

"Well, can't argue with that," he said with a shrug.

"Come. I would like a report on your journey…. The ruins of Valemire?"

they motioned toward the house.

Kael stepped through the doorway. Through memory. Through warmth.

Into home.

And beyond that comfort, just out of reach…

The world whispered.

murmuring the journey, in the back of Kael's mind.