The old lantern still burned at the edge of Eldergrove Forest, though no one could remember who had first lit it. Travelers spoke of its pale blue flame in hushed voices, claiming it guided the lost and warned away creatures that lurked beneath the ancient trees.
Kaelin had never believed the stories.
At twenty-three winters old and armed with nothing more than a worn leather satchel and his father’s steel longsword, he set out to prove that legends were little more than tales told over tavern ale.
The villagers warned him not to venture beyond the lantern’s glow. They spoke of ruined temples swallowed by roots and stone guardians that watched silently from the shadows. Kaelin simply smiled and continued on his way.
Hours passed before the forest changed. The air grew unnaturally still, and the towering pines seemed to whisper in a language older than kingdoms. Then he saw it.
An ancient sword stood embedded in a moss-covered altar of black stone. Its blade shimmered faintly beneath the moonlight, untouched by rust or time. Strange runes glowed softly along its edge as if waiting patiently for someone foolish enough to reach for it.
Naturally, Kaelin reached for it.
The moment his hand grasped the hilt, the forest awoke.
Golden eyes opened in the darkness. The stone guardians stepped from their silent watch, and somewhere in the distance, a dragon’s roar echoed through the trees.
Legends, he realized far too late, tend to become legends for a reason.
And so began the adventure he had spent his entire life believing could never exist.
garrett noel 