On a rocky beach beside the ocean, a young boy skips from rock to rock. His dark-brown hair flirting with the sea breeze as he moves in tandem to the melody he softly recites. Ever so often stopping to check for an odd something he would claim as his treasure, just as he did now, as a brief flash of gold catches his intrigue between the rocks. At the prospect of improbable treasure, the boys eyes widened. Weeks prior, a ship had wrecked. Its contents had been nudged ashore by the currents, an open invitation to plunder little a man could resist, let alone the boy not even thirteen years of age. By now, any loot worth picking had long since been snagged up by one of the villagers and the wreck had been abandoned, but with a boyish sense of adventure the boy had resolved to try his luck. His skinny arm reached down into the crevice between footholds as he squirmed to retrieve the object of his curiosity. Stretching out he felt a sharp prick to his finger tip. The boy retracted his hand out form the mystery hole, groaning in protest. Upon inspection, there laid a tiny cut from which a single droplet of blood had gathered, in the center of his index finger. Little it did to distract the boy from his treasure, for after a quick lick he had shoved his fingers right back down the hole.

   With a  sheepish grin and a firm grip on his new treasure, the boy yanked his prize out from its hiding place. The boy relaxed his grip revealing a marvelous, unblemished gem of a dark-red tint. The gem being merely a centerpiece, sat nestled within a golden talisman which was masterfully fashioned in the likeness of a coiled snake. The boy locked his eyes unto the talisman, his mind wandering off into dreams of luxury. A talisman such as this would fetch an exorbitant price from the trader. As he pondered upon how he would spend such a fortune, a wave crashing against the shoreline whipped the boy out of his reverie. He quickly stuffed the trinket into his pocket, briefly surveying his surroundings. It was his wish to ensure none else had born witness to his miraculous find. As soon as he had confirmed this, the boy picked himself up and darted into a green pasture, off the rocky beach and away from the ocean. 

   The boy moved in haste, with a  newly acquired gleam in his eye. His destination was the end of the pasture right at the foot of a great forest which separated the beach from the village of Dreydan. There laid a rundown shack, its wooden walls rotten after being laid bare to the elements. The journey was but minutes from the beach and was well within sight. Soon, he had reached the shack, its wooden walls rotten after being laid bare to the elements. It had little that served as a functioning entrance save a tiny child-sized hole. The boy rushed through the makeshift entrance and postured himself over the floor of the shack. Now on all fours, he began thumping his fist against the creaky wooden boards of the shack. Each time he was met with the dull sound one would expect from a fist meeting would, except for when he was not. With his fourth attempt, apart from the previous thumping noise, a hollow echo sounded. With a satisfied smirk the boy pulled his face closer to the decrepit floorboards. He closed his eyes and whispers but a single word. A creek sounded as just before the boys tiny body, the shabby wooden flooring began to tremble.

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   The floor boards split in half and swung down and outward, as if suddenly reminded of the boys weight. He found himself in free-fall, looking upwards as the boards creaked back into place. The boy gathered himself into a straight line, his two arms slightly outstretched from his body. He spread apart his fingers as he once again closed his eyes and whispered yet another mystical word. The wind that had been beating harsh against his face had slowed to a refreshing breeze as his fall lulled to a slow descent. He regarded the rotten, semi-collapsed ladder strung along the sides on the tunnel down and furrowed his eyebrows. If the ladder were to be repaired, he would find little need to exhaust himself casting spells. The boy shook away these thoughts as he landed lightly upon the tip of his toes. 

   Finding himself in one of many intertwining tunnels and paths, the boy quickly raced through them, his steps resounding a strong sense of familiarity. He had grown accustom to the dark labyrinth after years of navigation in attempts to run from guards and a whole host of equally mischievous sport. He had little knowledge in the coming-about of the tunnels he called home, nor for what reason they exist, but was thankful for them - seeing how they had supported him for so many years. After some time, the boy came to a dead end. Placing his hand against the cold earth before him the boy muttered a word beneath his breath. Upon hearing this, the earth began to shake - in approval of the boy’s whisper - as it slowly began to collapse, chunks of earth loosening themselves off the wall. Bit by bit, as the wall crumbled, a torch-lit burrow was exposed. The boy winced and covered his eyes as the light hit him.

   “Ah, you’re back Aelar. Just in time too, I’m famished.” Spoke a figure blurred to Aelar, his eyes still adjusting to the light. 

   “You’re going to want to see what I found first, Janks.” Before Aelar stood the closest thing to family he had left. Janks was a tomboy in the truest sense of the word. Slightly taller and two years older, her crimson hair hung messily past her cheekbones. She had enchanting dark-brown eyes, and  a welcoming smile that betrayed her otherwise feral aura. Rummaging through his pocket, Aelar revealed his treasure as he watched for a reaction. Janks eyes lit up at the sight of the talisman. The gem playfully reflected the torch-light and added a level of grandeur that pleased the boy and left the girl dumbfounded. 

   “How… where did you-” Aelar swatted away hands that unknowingly had reached out towards the talisman. 

   “I told you the wreck wasn’t a waste of time. This was laying hidden between the rocks, begging for me to chance upon.” Aelar smiled triumphantly as he boasted his find. Janks cursed as Aelar tucked away the talisman in his pocket. The two had a simple system.  Orphans as they were and with little wealth between them, they would embark on all sort of endeavor to support themselves. The greater between the two in terms of contribution would be exempt from chores in the coming month, the lesser picking up the slack.  This caused Aelar great suffering however, as Janks was a better pick-pocket and often victor in their little contest. 

   “Don’t gloat yet! Tomorrow we’ll squeeze the trader for all that your treasures worth. Only then will we know who will be cooking and cleaning dishes.” With a hearty laugh at the girls unconfident statement, Aelar made his way toward the cooking pot and stirred a broth he had prepared before he’d left for his little adventure.