Beneath the Great Lands of Waterfalls sprawled vibrant hidden civilizations. A majestic waterfall cascaded in the distance, its roar mingling with the lively chatter of the marketplace. People bustled through the streets, bartering at stalls overflowing with fresh produce. The air was rich with the aroma of delicious foods being prepared, while children laughed and played in open spaces. Soldiers stood guard, their presence reassuring as they ensured the safety of their thriving community.

As Zander stepped into the bustling streets, he took a moment to soak in his surroundings. His heart raced with anticipation. The sights and sounds were overwhelming, but his attention was soon drawn to an even larger temple looming in the distance, towering over the other buildings. This grand structure was awe-inspiring, with its soaring spires and intricate stonework. Statues of ancient figures adorned the temple's entrance, their gazes fixed on the ground below, giving the place an air of reverence. The sheer scale of it made the people seem like ants in comparison.

Zander approached the grand temple, but as he neared the entrance, two soldiers stepped forward, blocking his path. Their armor, crafted from wood and leaves, blended seamlessly with the surroundings.

“Halt! No one enters except the Guardians of the Great Lands of Waterfalls,” one soldier declared, his tone firm.

“I need to speak with your leader,” Zander insisted, determined in his voice.

“The leader is busy,” the second soldier replied, eyeing him suspiciously. “What are you, the gray boy?”

“Yeah,” Zander responded, confusion creasing his brow. “What do you mean?”

One of the soldiers chuckled. “He’s the gray boy who fought Aerolios, the god of weather. And with that big white tiger, no less.”

The other soldier’s eyes widened in realization. “For real? Then let him in.”

Turning back to Zander, they said, “Gray boy, you’re free to enter, but we’ll come along.”

“Okay,” Zander agreed, his pulse quickening as he stepped forward, flanked by the soldiers as they escorted him into the grand temple.

Inside, the leader of the Great Lands of Waterfalls stood at the center, draped in a cape of woven leaves. His presence was commanding yet calm, his back turned to them.

One of the soldiers stepped forward. “Sir, the gray boy has awakened. He wishes to speak with you.”

The leader nodded, turning to face Zander. “Good. You two, return to your posts.”

“Yes, sir,” the soldiers replied, leaving Zander alone with the leader.

“So, you’re the gray boy who went toe-to-toe with Aerolios?” the leader asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Zander replied, a flicker of pride in his voice. “I would've won if I was stronger.”

The leader gave a thoughtful nod. “Well, boy, you must already be strong. Surviving a battle with a god is no small feat. It’s something truly remarkable.”

“So, you’re the leader of all this land?” Zander asked, glancing around, his interest piqued.

“Yes, I am,” the leader replied confidently. “I control everything above and below in the Great Lands. My name is Sylvian Grand.”

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“I’m Zander. I came from a tree,” Zander said plainly, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his tone.

Sylvian chuckled, but there was a kindness in his eyes. “Oh, that's a funny joke, boy.”

Zander’s heart sank. “It's not a joke,” he thought, his fists clenching at the dismissive tone.

“Alright, Zander, follow me. You can ask your questions,” Sylvian said, turning to lead the way.

As they walked down the stone steps of the temple, Zander struggled to suppress his frustration. “How did you know I had questions?” he asked, curious.

Sylvian smiled without looking back. “It’s written all over your face. Plus, anyone who goes toe-to-toe with a god has plenty on their mind. Tell me, and I will answer.”

They continued walking through the bustling streets, Zander gathering his thoughts. “How did I get here? And how did you manage to take me and Leo away from Aerolios?” he asked, still trying to piece together the chaotic events.

Sylvian nodded thoughtfully. “My men found you and the tiger battling the god. Long story short, they used smoke devices to obscure Aerolios’s vision and swiftly brought you both here to safety.”

“Who was the lady in the temple with me and Leo?” Zander pressed, his curiosity piqued.

“She’s my wife. She serves as the healer for this city, and her skills extend far beyond just our home. She’s helped many in the surrounding areas,” Sylvian replied. “Give her your thanks when you two meet again.”

They strolled through the vibrant streets until they reached a wooden bridge. Below, soldiers trained diligently, shooting arrows at targets and sparring with one another.

“Whoa, that's a lot of people,” Zander remarked, his eyes wide with awe.

“These are my soldiers—the Guardians of the Great Lands of Waterfalls,” Sylvian replied proudly. “They train every day to protect our home and ensure safety throughout the land.”

They arrived at a quaint little home, its warmth inviting.

“This is my home. Please make yourself comfortable,” Sylvian said, gesturing inside.

Zander stepped in and settled onto Sylvian's bed. “This bed is really comfortable,” he remarked, sinking into the soft fabric with a content sigh.

Sylvian stepped behind a large table and pulled out a chair, scribbling on a piece of paper.

“So, what are you all? You can't be human,” Zander said, curiosity driving his inquiry.

“Why not?” replied Sylvian, a playful glint in his eye.

“Well, you have deer-like horns and long nails,” Zander pointed out, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Heh, good point. We're Lignumkin, born from Mother Nature herself,” Sylvian explained.

“That’s cool! Maybe I was born from Mother Nature since I came from a tree,” Zander replied, a hopeful grin spreading across his face.

“Ha! Another good joke, boy,” Sylvian laughed, though there was a hint of caution in his tone.

Zander clenched his fists, feeling a surge of anger. I’m not joking! he thought, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

Sylvian finished writing on the paper.

Zander leaned forward. “What’s that paper for?”

“It’s a peace treaty for the Hellstorm Legion, ensuring they won’t attack our home,” Sylvian said, his expression growing serious.

“Why would they do that?” Zander asked.

“Because they want our resources and our territory. I’m making this treaty to negotiate a deal,” Sylvian replied, determination coloring his voice.

“Why not fight them back? Have you ever tried?” Zander suggested, his confidence swelling.

“We have, Zander, but their forces are too powerful. Even if we wanted to fight, I’ve lost too many men, especially to those damn flames,” Sylvian said, frustration threading through his words.

Zander paused, contemplating. “How about I help?”

“You? How can you even help? Why do I need your help, Zander? I just have to give the leader this treaty, and we’ll be fine,” Sylvian said, skepticism lining his tone.

“Do you really believe the leader will agree to a peace treaty? I think we should prepare a plan just in case something goes wrong,” Zander countered, his voice steady.

Sylvian considered this for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. We should prepare a plan in case the leader refuses to agree to the treaty,” he admitted, a hint of respect in his eyes.

Zander’s mind raced, excitement bubbling as an idea formed. “I got it,” he said, determination igniting within him.