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A Tale of a Dream That Came to Be
Chapter 1: The Beginning

Chapter 1: The Beginning

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the small village nestled deep within the woods. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, and the laughter of children filled the air.

In the clearing just outside the village, a group of children were absorbed in a game. They darted about, waving their wooden swords and shouting with glee.

“Okay! Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” a boy called out.

The group of boys, standing in a circle, threw their hands down in unison. Among them was John, a boy of twelve years with dark brown hair that hung a little longer than most boys his age. His eyes, a piercing light blue, gleamed with excitement.

John grinned as his hand showed scissors while his friends revealed paper. He had won. Again.

“Looks like I’m the knight this time,” John announced, picking up his wooden sword with a flourish. The other boys groaned in defeat, but they couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly John assumed the role of the heroic knight. He was older, stronger, and always seemed to know how to handle the sword even if it was just a wooden one.

“Alright,” said Lucas, a boy with scruffy blonde hair, who had lost the round. “Guess that makes us the bandits. But don’t think we’ll go easy on you, Sir John!”

John chuckled and stood tall, adopting a gallant pose as he faced the two girls who were standing a little distance away. They were the “princesses,” dressed in simple play clothes, but their imaginations transformed them into royalty. One of them, Alice, had light, long hair that shimmered in the sunlight, her bright green eyes full of excitement.

Alice, only nine years old, clasped her hands together as she played her role. “Oh no! Bandits have come to kidnap us!” she exclaimed dramatically, her voice high and playful. “What will we ever do?”

The other girl, Elena, giggled and joined in, pretending to be just as distressed. “Help, Sir John! Save us from these evil men!”

John stepped forward, brandishing his wooden sword with mock seriousness. “Fear not, Princess Alice, Princess Elena! I, Sir John, will protect you from the vile bandits!”

With that, the “battle” began. The boys playing the bandits charged at John, but he parried their attacks with ease. His wooden sword clacked against theirs, the sound echoing through the clearing.

“Take that!” John cried, sweeping his sword through the air and knocking aside Lucas's feeble attempt at a strike. Lucas fell to the ground with a dramatic flourish.

“You’re too strong, Sir John!” Lucas laughed as he lay in defeat.

The other “bandit,” Milo, tried to sneak up behind John, but with a swift turn, John tapped him on the shoulder with the blunt end of his sword.

“I have you now, villain!” John declared.

Milo threw his hands up in surrender, laughing as he dropped his sword. “Alright, alright! You win this time!”

John struck a heroic pose, his sword pointed to the sky. “The princesses are safe once again!”

Alice clapped her hands, her green eyes sparkling with admiration. “You’re amazing, John! No one can beat you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucas grumbled good naturedly, dusting himself off as he stood up. “He’s always the knight. We should play something else next time.”

Elena nodded in agreement. “Maybe tomorrow we can switch it up. I want to be the knight!”

John laughed, handing his wooden sword to Elena. “Next time, it’s all yours.”

The children continued playing other games, their voices and laughter so loud that everyone in the village could hear them.

Meanwhile, in the village...

The smell of cooking meat filled the small wooden house where Alice lived with her parents. Sara, Alice's mother, stood over the stove, stirring a pot of stew that simmered with fragrant herbs and fresh vegetables. She wiped her hands on her apron as she heard the door creak open.

Her husband, Duncan, stepped inside, his large frame silhouetted against the evening light. Slung over his back was a freshly caught boar, its weight hanging easily from his strong shoulders. He smiled at Sara as he laid the boar down near the door.

“Not a bad catch today,” Duncan said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Should make for some good meals over the next few days.”

Sara smiled and stepped over to him, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “You're always bringing home the best meat.”

Duncan chuckled and shrugged. “Anything for you and Alice.” He glanced out the window where the distant sound of children playing could still be heard. “Speaking of Alice... her birthday is coming up soon, isn’t it?”

Sara nodded, returning to her cooking. “Yes, in just a few days. Have you thought about what we should give her as a present?”

Duncan scratched his head, thinking. “Hmm, I’ve been trying to come up with something, but nothing seems quite right. She’s growing up fast... What do you think she’d like?”

“I don’t know,” Sara admitted, frowning slightly as she stirred the pot. “She seems so happy just playing with her friends. But I want to get her something special this year.”

They both paused, their thoughts interrupted by a knock on the door.

Duncan stood up and opened it to reveal Thomas, one of his close friends from the village. Thomas grinned as he stepped inside, shaking Duncan’s hand.

“Good to see you, Duncan! I just came by to let you know that Kevin the merchant is arriving around this time tomorrow.”

Duncan raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Tomorrow? That’s unusual for him. I thought he wasn’t due for another week.”

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Thomas shrugged. “He said he had some extra supplies and decided to come by sooner. He’ll be here tomorrow.”

Duncan’s eyes lit up with an idea. “That’s perfect. We can get Alice’s birthday present from Kevin’s shop.”

Sara smiled, relieved. “That’s a great idea. Kevin always has interesting things.”

After thanking Thomas for the news, Duncan closed the door. Sara wiped her hands on her apron and headed toward the door. “I’ll go get Alice. It’s getting late, and she needs to clean up before dinner.”

The evening air was cool as Sara walked toward the clearing where the children played. She could see them, covered in dirt from head to toe, their clothes smudged, and their faces bright with laughter.

“Alice!” Sara called out. “It’s time to come home.”

Alice, now dirt streaked and disheveled from a day of playing, ran up to her mother with a pleading look. “Please, can we play just a little longer? Just a few more minutes, Mom?”

Sara shook her head, though she couldn’t help but smile at her daughter’s enthusiasm. “No, dear. It’s getting dark. You’ll have plenty of time to play tomorrow.”

Alice pouted but finally relented, saying goodbye to her friends. She followed her mother home, her feet dragging slightly as she left the clearing.

Back at home, Sara instructed Alice to wash up before dinner. The young girl hurried to the small washbasin, splashing her face and arms with cool water. After scrubbing away the dirt, she returned to the table where her parents were already sitting down to eat.

As they ate, Duncan looked at Alice with a warm smile. “So, Kevin the merchant is coming to the village tomorrow,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

Alice’s eyes widened in surprise. “Tomorrow? But he’s not supposed to come yet!”

“That’s right,” Sara added. “He decided to come early this time. And since your birthday is coming up, we were wondering... what would you like as a present?”

Alice tilted her head, thinking for a moment. “I don’t know... I haven’t really thought about it.”

Duncan grinned. “How about this? Tomorrow, when Kevin arrives, you can come with me to his shop and pick out your own present.”

Alice’s face lit up with excitement. “Really? I can pick anything I want?”

“Anything,” Duncan confirmed with a smile.

After dinner, Alice went up to her small room. She pulled out an old book from the shelf her favorite story about a brave knight and a princess. Crawling into bed, she opened the book and let her imagination take over.

In her mind, she was the princess, and John was the brave knight who saved her from the bandits. She giggled to herself, imagining the scenes from their playtime earlier.

Before long, her eyes grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of knights, magic, and faraway lands.

Meanwhile, deep in the forest...

The wheels of a merchant's cart rattled loudly along the dirt road, driven by two horses galloping as fast as they could. Their breath came in heavy, rapid bursts, steam rising into the cold night air. Sitting at the front of the cart, gripping the reins tightly, was Kevin, the village merchant. His long, disheveled beard bounced with every jolt of the cart, and his eyes darted nervously from side to side.

“Faster!” Kevin muttered through gritted teeth, urging the horses onward. “Come on! Move, damn it!” His voice cracked with panic as he snapped the reins harder, his knuckles white from fear.

The dark trees loomed around him, their shadows twisting and stretching like claws. An eerie silence had settled over the forest except for the sound of the horses' hooves pounding the ground and the creaking of the cart’s wheels.

But that silence was shattered.

A screech a sound so horrifying it could freeze the blood in your veins rang out from the depths of the forest behind him. Kevin’s heart leaped into his throat as he glanced back, his eyes wide with terror. The sound was like nothing he had ever heard, like a beast from the underworld clawing its way to the surface.

“Gods, no... No, no, no...” Kevin whispered frantically, his voice barely more than a whimper. He whipped the reins again. “Go! Faster! Don’t stop!”

He prayed. His voice trembled as he muttered a string of desperate pleas. “Please... Please, let me make it out of here. I’ll offer you anything, just get me through this!”

But then, up ahead, Kevin’s heart sank. The road was blocked.

Standing across the narrow path were eight figures on horseback, cloaked from head to toe in dark robes. Their faces were hidden, their presence foreboding.

Kevin yanked the reins, forcing the horses to skid to a stop, nearly tipping the cart in his haste. Panic gripped him as he leaned forward, shouting at the cloaked figures. “Move! Please, move! We have to get out of here!” His voice cracked with fear, his breathing ragged. “If we don’t get out now, we’ll all die!”

One of the cloaked figures dismounted calmly and began to walk toward Kevin. The man’s steps were unhurried, his movements deliberate, as if the terror in Kevin’s voice hadn’t fazed him in the slightest.

“What seems to be the problem?” the figure asked, his voice deep but oddly friendly, almost like he was trying to soothe a frightened child.

Kevin’s eyes widened, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He tried to speak, his lips trembling as he struggled to explain. “Something... something’s coming! It’s... it’s a monster, a Geath!” His voice cracked again as he pointed behind him. “Please, we have to “

Another ear splitting screech echoed through the forest, cutting Kevin’s sentence short. The sound was closer now, far too close. It was coming.

The horses snorted and stomped their hooves in fear, nearly breaking into a panicked run. Kevin turned, his heart hammering in his chest, and there it was emerging from the shadowed treeline.

The moonlight glinted off the monstrous figure of a Geath, one of the creatures that haunted the deepest forests and frozen wastelands of the world. It towered on two thick, bear like legs, its fur black and matted with dirt. Its long arms, like that of a sloth, ended in razor sharp claws that scraped the ground with every step. Spines jutted out from its back, twitching with every movement, and its face oh gods, its face was a grotesque mockery of a gorilla’s skull, elongated and horrifying, with bloodshot eyes that gleamed with savage hunger. Its jaw hung open, revealing rows of jagged, yellow teeth.

Kevin’s blood ran cold.

The Geath let out another terrible roar and charged.

Without hesitation, it barreled toward the cloaked man standing near Kevin. The merchant’s heart raced. “We’re dead!” he thought, cowering behind his cart. He crouched low, trembling, praying for some kind of miracle.

The beast lunged at the cloaked figure, its massive claws raised, ready to tear him apart.

But the man did not flinch.

In one fluid motion, the cloaked man drew a sword from beneath his robes, the blade gleaming silver in the moonlight. With terrifying precision, he sidestepped the Geath’s attack and, in a flash, slashed at its legs. The beast howled in pain, stumbling as blood sprayed from its wounded limbs. Another swift cut followed a strike to its chest then another, severing one of its arms.

The Geath screeched in fury, swiping wildly with its remaining arm. The cloaked figure dodged each attack with ease, dancing around the monstrous creature like it was nothing more than a nuisance.

And then, with one final strike, the man swung his blade in a wide arc. The sword cleaved through the air and sliced clean through the Geath’s neck. Its head toppled to the ground with a sickening thud.

For a moment, the only sound was Kevin’s heavy breathing and the faint rustle of leaves.

The Geath’s massive body collapsed, hitting the dirt with a loud, lifeless thud.

Kevin peeked out from behind the cart, his eyes wide in disbelief. The Geath was dead its corpse lay in a pool of its own blood, its head several feet away.

The cloaked man stood there, calm and unbothered, holding the beast’s severed head in one hand. He turned to Kevin, an amused smile playing on his lips.

“How much do you reckon this head is worth?” the man asked with a chuckle, tossing the Geath’s head onto the cart like it was nothing more than a sack of grain.

The others in cloaks laughed, a low, rumbling sound that sent chills down Kevin’s spine. After a moment, Kevin joined in, laughing nervously. His heart was still pounding, his mind racing to make sense of what had just happened.

But then, the man in the cloak stepped forward. As he moved, the moonlight caught his face revealing it beneath the hood.

Kevin’s laughter died in his throat. His eyes widened in fear as he finally got a good look at the man. His eyes cold, piercing looked through Kevin like he could see every secret, every fear he had.

The man leaned in closer, his voice still deep, but now carrying an edge that made Kevin’s blood turn to ice.

“So...” the man asked, his tone soft but unnervingly dangerous, “where exactly are you heading?”

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