The morning sun stretched slowly across the horizon, casting a pale golden light over the distant shoreline where Darren lay unmoving. The waves rolled in and out around him, nudging his body gently as though trying to wake him. The sky above him was a faded blue, still recovering from the darkness of dawn, and the tide had already left small trails of foam near his arms and legs. Darren’s breathing was shallow, almost undetectable, and his skin was still damp from the long journey the river and ocean had forced him through.For several minutes, the shore remained quiet, disturbed only by the soft rhythm of the waves. Then, faint footsteps began approaching from the left side of the beach—slow, careful steps, almost hesitant. The footsteps belonged to a young girl, no older than Darren, who had come to the beach early that morning to gather shells near the rocks. She wore a long, faded blue dress that fluttered lightly in the sea breeze, and her long hair was tied behind her back in a

The forest was silent except for the faint rustle of leaves stirred by the night wind. The trader—his real name still unknown to everyone—walked through the narrow path with calm, steady steps. He carried Darren’s glowing sword in his left hand, the blade wrapped in a dark cloth to stop its light from drawing attention. Yet even with the cloth, a faint pulse of yellow radiated through the fabric, leaking like contained fire.He smirked to himself.“This boy,” he muttered. “So foolish. So untrained. And yet… this sword chose him.”He stopped beneath a tall tree, placing his palm against its rough bark. A dark symbol appeared briefly—something carved there long ago, the mark of his secret dealings. As the symbol glowed, a hidden wooden door silently opened at the foot of the tree, revealing a small underground room.He stepped inside.It was dim and damp, lit only by a single lantern hanging from the ceiling. This was the trader’s hideout—nothing luxurious, but everything inside had pur