The Chosen of Patruel

Reniel Corven once lived a simple life on Earth as Evan Walker, but fate pulled him into a world both ancient and divine—a realm where the blood of its god flows through the land and its people in the form of mana.

What does it mean to belong to a world of swords and magic? Follow Reniel Corven as the mystery unfolds...

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Water on the golden grass and towering flowers glinted in the morning sunshine as blinding scintillations that dotted the forest floor. The branches of towering trees softly swayed and creaked from the gentle, cool morning breeze, their tops slowly gilded by the sun as it rose. The various birds chirped and warbled, and a small ladybug could be seen flying toward a ripe dew drop which sat on the precipice of a flower's petal.



Looking down from the serene scene, though, a ghastly view broke the serenity before him: viscous maroon splattered on the rocky, dirt trail. Red crust on pallid skin; disheveled clothes shredded, torn, covered in dried mud, and stained in a deep vermilion; chunks of half-digested food scattered in front of his mouth, which smelled so strongly of bile it was just about the only thing that kept him awake for so long; and worst of it all: a tree laying over him with a large branch piercing his abdomen. 



Evan did his best to stretch out his fingers. They twitched for a moment and returned to an unmovable stillness. Inner demons, deepest fears, and final wishes had all created a violent storm of desperation in his mind, but slowly, he could feel that even his mind was beginning to slip from him.