Consisting of seven continents and seven major monarchies, the world was dominated by three distinct races: elves, dwarves, and humans. Of the seven continents, three were located in the southernmost part, three in the northernmost part, and one in the center. However, the races only controlled four of them, as the remaining three continents, specifically those in the south, were too hostile for the races.

On these continents existed a dominant species known as the "Fallen." The Fallen, who were not considered members of the races from a physiological standpoint, resembled humans and, although they did not belong to the elves, possessed similar magical powers. More skilled in forging than any dwarf, the Fallen undoubtedly had the best traits of the races.

In fact, the two parts of the world, the races and the Fallen, were engaged in a large-scale war. Although there were nuances and details accompanying it, this war could be summarized in one sentence: "A struggle not to be eaten." The Fallen used the races as a source of food or for the creation of tools, decorations, and artifacts. For the Fallen, the races' continents were merely a backyard where livestock was raised.

In summary, it was a story of a fierce war, almost like an apocalyptic prophecy to worry about. The prophecy stated that every two hundred years, the Wall of the Races, which divided the world into two, separating the races from the Fallen, would weaken, allowing the Fallen to enter the races' territory; an event known as "the great invasion." To prevent disaster and escape destruction, the kingdoms would summon seven defenders from another time.

In the ancient language of the elves, they were called "Rüngütü ë müü." The dwarves, with their loud and resonant voices, referred to them as "SýrkÒn in stìrdnò," while in the human tongue, they preferred to call them "Heroes."

◇◆◇

Brown eyes opened. It had been about three days since he was captured.

'Why am I still here? ', Eídal wondered for the umpteenth time, but there was no one to answer him.

One of the things that surprised him the most was that, instead of killing him, the fallen had adopted him as a pet. They had placed a tag on his collar. On the tag, written in Elvish, was the word "nòkhisè nondíop," which, translated into the human language, meant "Adorable Creature."

Although Eídal knew nothing of the Elvish language, he understood the true meaning of the collar when, by mistake, the fallen whispered it among themselves.

'So why? Affection or pity? Ahhh, it doesn't matter anymore.'

At only ten years old, nostalgia and pain conspired to dampen the corners of his eyes. The only reason he could still hold back his tears was because he knew it was all in his head.

'It's just a dream.'

Exhausted, the newly named "adorable creature" fell asleep again.

◇◆◇

Brown eyes opened. It had been about eight days since he was captured.

'I'm going to get out, right?', Eídal thought.

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It wasn't the first time that question crossed his mind. Eídal, now dubbed "an adorable creature," remained chained atop his sandbox, in the same luxurious room as before. Meanwhile, the gag and shackles seemed to tighten just a little more with each passing day.

◇◆◇

Brown eyes opened. It had been a month since he was captured.

'It hurts', Eídal thought.

The adorable creature felt a bit restless as the shackles left bruises on his skin. Yet there was one question he could never stop asking:

'Why am I still here?'

Again and again, over and over. This shouldn't be real.

'It hurts. There shouldn't be pain in a dream. It feels so real. No, it must just be fatigue. I should listen to Íngrid and stop staying up so late, yes'.

With his movement restricted by the chains, there wasn't much he could do. However, to ease the anxiety pressing on his chest, the adorable creature, with some difficulty, stood atop his sandbox, stretched his knees a bit, and rotated his wrists. He did the same with his neck and cracked several fingers, but after that, he remained silent for quite some time.

'But… I'm going to wake up, right?'

◇◆◇

Brown eyes opened. It had been a month and a half since he was captured.

'This can't be... I'm not going to wake up', the adorable creature thought in horror.

At that moment, he grew tired of repeatedly banging his head against his knees. The wounds caused by the friction of the shackles began to bleed.

'I'm never, never going to wake up!'

Disheveling his hair, he buried his face in his hands. With wide, frantic eyes, he kept repeating:

'It's a lie.'

◇◆◇

Brown eyes opened. It had been three and a half months since he was captured.

'Ha! What's wrong with me? Ha, ha, ha. I shouldn't worry,' the adorable creature thought with renewed optimism, despite the shackles biting deep into his flesh.

He had never been taken out of the luxurious room; still, a sudden surge of hope washed over him, to the point where he began to hum.

'Yes, I'm sure I'll wake up soon.'

'I shouldn't worry so much. I'll wake up soon.'

'I shouldn't worry.'

'This will end soon.'

'Yes... very soon. It's almost over.'

Right now, was it early morning or late at night? Maybe midday? Without caring about the exact time, the adorable creature fell into a deep sleep.

◇◆◇

Brown eyes opened. In those four months of captivity, the adorable creature's hope had begun to falter once again:

'Lies, lies, lies. I'm not going to wake up.'

Meanwhile, the shackles had nearly fused with his flesh.

◇◆◇

Brown eyes opened. A tide of emotions, swinging between hope and despair, overwhelmed him.

At first, the adorable creature told himself:

'Ha, ha, ha. I shouldn't worry. Tomorrow for sure, yes, tomorrow I'll definitely wake up.'

But then, he contradicted himself:

'I'm lying. I'm not going to wake up!'

Over and over, he oscillated between hope and despair:

'It's almost over. I shouldn't worry.'

And then:

'No, I won't make it!'

And once again:

'Yes... very soon. It's almost over, right?! Once I open my eyes, surely once I open them, it'll all be over! One last time, and it will be done. Just one last time.'

◇◆◇

Until, for the last time, the brown eyes opened, and nothing had changed. Four months and thirteen days made him realize the truth of his reality.

'I couldn't wake up,' he thought with bitter irony. 'That was to be expected.'

He accepted it. After thinking it over for so long, the adorable creature reached the conclusion he feared the most:

'They really did throw me away. Of course, it was more than obvious. But still... it's so cruel!'

The irony quickly turned into rage.

'Cruel!'

Once he faced reality, he began to feel hatred toward the villagers who had ignored all his efforts and instead repaid him by handing him over to the fallen. Yet he couldn't deny that part of that anger was also directed at himself for believing it had all been a dream. Today, at last, the denial was cast aside, making way for a new emotion: anger.

'Ah-ha-ha... ha... ha... ha.'

Sudden spasms led him to burst into hollow laughter. The emotions that had been building up—the denial that had turned into anger—grew stronger and stronger. The day the shackles had completely fused with his flesh, the adorable creature slipped into a deep sleep within that luxurious room, muttering to himself:

'Cruel.'