When I was little, I had a dream. I saw an all-mighty phoenix plummet to the ground in a raging flame of fire. Setting the world ablaze in its final heat of glory! The hot wind brushed against my face as the smoke settled off in the distant forest, accompanied by a single feather that graced my palm with its warm heat.

My eyes would always sparkle in amazement as I watched this strand reside in my palm, but that happened years ago, and with what I'm about to witness with my own eyes.

I'd hardly call that a dream; it was more like a premonition.

"Hey, be careful out there!" My father called out to me in a moment of worry as I ventured deeper into the unknown forest. The familiar turned dark in favor of the unknown, the trees had grown in stature, and the air grew cold around me.

I was a spry young lad, with blue eyes that mimicked the deepest of oceans, hair of a powdery white hue, and a smile that couldn't dare be removed. My body is was adorned with scrapes and cuts from my recent adventures.

My feet crunched against all the dried leaves that stood in my path, a grin that would tell anyone who I am-

"Arlen! Adventurer of the south!" I roared in a childish cry, my tiny hands wrapped around a stick I found on the way, a path I always took as my father worked on the lumber. A place I sought to get away for adventure.

"Now where do I go today." I pondered.

The sound of rustling pricked my ear for a mere moment, causing me to turn as it beckoned my gaze. Something moved up ahead, something that I never saw before.

Curiosity lurked in the back of my mind, the once confused expression turning into a determined smile as I ventured forth. The path cleared as I pushed through, alas not watching where I wondered. My foot slipped, no longer able to keep its footing in my heated moment of wonder, the ground dove deep below taking me with it as I was sent tumbling down, fresh cuts and bruises making themselves known to me until I finally hit the bottom.

"Ow-" I murmured as I removed the stray twigs and leaves from my hair, looking up through narrowed eyes to see a field of flowers with a statue in the middle, the statue of a man with his sword pointed to the ground, yet his head was held high.

I knew not of this man, or his backstory to this date, dust residing between the cracks of the statue, clearly molded by time and the harshness of mother nature.

I got up, my eyes fixated on its intricate design as I walked forth, hands grazing its cold stone body, occasionally brushing against the course moss that clung so desperately.

"Who are you?" I questioned, yet I was not expecting an answer. I looked up to the man who smiled so valiantly, his straight hair and kind eyes and his name, which's etched forever in stone, indirectly answering my query.

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"Gaelin Magnala..." My mouth parted slightly in wonder but soon closed in a compact smile, looking up to see something that was definitely not there before; it shined in the sun's rays that peaked through the cracks of the forest, a golden hue. A feather of something unknown.

With curiosity taking the reigns, I scaled his body in an attempt to reach for the golden feather, soon achieving it in my grasp. I twirl it around in my fingers, sitting upon the head of the statue as I inspect it.

I had never seen anything like it before; no bird in this area had a feather like this.

I wonder...

________________

"The feather of a fallen Phoenix," I murmured in amazement, reading a book my father bought many moons ago, it had yet to be opened since.

The book has many tales and legends that span over the course of centuries about beasts that used to roam the land, called Yokai; their mana and power were unmatched, yet they went into hiding many years ago.

My gaze landed on the phoenix, a mythical bird with a lifespan of only a century, falling into a fiery grave, to only be revived once every 20 years by chosen adventurers, signified by one of its fallen feathers. The feather of hope and revival that would guide the path to the bird's grave. Upon its revival, great fortune will be cast upon its savior, and with it, their greatest wish will be granted.

Many days would pass and I would keep trying to find the Phoenix, and each time I would fail, either coming up short or getting injured along the way, but I would never give up, the cycle repeating until the ripe age of sixteen, the age of every adventurer's beginning!

"Are you sure you want to go?" My mom pondered, her hands balled into each other, her voice giving off a sense of worry.

"Of course, mom! I've been waiting for this since I was only six!" I grinned,

"Well, don't forget to visit every so often." My dad smiled softly, his eyes filled with pride at his child, who was once so reckless and fragile but is now a young man ready to take on the world.

"I'll remember, don't worry," I promised, my right arm reaching for my heart, resting lightly on my chest in a form of sincerity.

"Well, before you go, you should at least have a map." My mother declared this as she handed me an old map of Cyrax. I took it in my hands. The old paper grazed against my fingers as I placed it in my bag.

"Ok, I'll be off!" I announced, about to leave, but felt the arm of my dad wrapping around my wrist. I stopped and looked at him, a look of confusion yet still keeping a smile on my face.

"What's wrong?" I pondered, giving him my attention once more.

My father smiled and lightly punched my chest.

"Don't be too reckless, alright? Take your head out of the clouds, because adventuring is no joke."

I looked at him with a determined glint in my eyes.

"Of course!" And with that, I pressed on, leaving my hometown in search of something greater! In search of the fallen Phoenix!