Chapter 1: Laelith
The village of Laelith was nestled between rolling hills, its vibrant green fields stretching out beneath a bright, open sky. The peaceful rhythm of everyday life could be felt in the air—the hum of bees buzzing around blooming flowers, the soft crackle of firewood in stoves, and the voices of the village elders sharing stories beneath the shade of old oak trees. It was the kind of place where time seemed to move slower, where days were simple and filled with warmth.
Rune had grown up in Laelith, and as he wandered its familiar streets, he felt the pulse of his childhood in every step. The village was small, but it was a place where everyone knew each other, where strangers were rare, and neighbors were family. His father, a strong and kind-hearted man, was the backbone of their household. Though he could be stern at times, especially when Rune and his sister Kaela weren't living up to their potential, his intentions were always clear: he wanted the best for his children.
"Ru," his father would call out whenever Rune made a mistake. "You know better than that. Learn from it."
But the rare moments when his father smiled, those were the moments Rune cherished most. When their father praised him for his hard work, or when they shared a quiet evening together, the simple weight of those words—"I'm proud of you, Ru"—were enough to fill Rune's heart with a sense of purpose. His father worked hard to provide for them, tending to the fields and building what was needed for their home. His love was often shown through actions rather than words, but Rune had learned to see it in the little things: the way his father would always make sure Kaela had a warm coat in the winter, or how he'd walk to the market just to get Rune his favorite snack.
Kaela, his little sister, was always by his side. "Ru!" she would call out in her sweet voice, the nickname she had given him when she first learned to speak. "Let's go play by the river today! You promised we could!" She'd tug on his arm excitedly, her big eyes full of life. And no matter how tired Rune was, no matter how much work he still had to do, he would always drop everything to spend time with her. Her laughter was contagious, echoing through the quiet village streets as they ran and played in the meadows.
Rune never once felt burdened by her requests. It was in those moments of childish joy—when she would ask him to take her on walks, to play games, or to pick flowers—that Rune felt a sense of belonging. They were inseparable, and she adored him in a way that made his heart swell. She was a reflection of the kindness that flowed through their family, and the warmth in her voice could heal any wound.
And the village loved him back. Everywhere Rune went, he was met with smiles and gratitude. The elderly would wave at him as he walked down the cobbled paths, their tired voices calling out, "Thank you, Ru, for always helping out. You're a good soul." He'd pause for a moment to chat with them, offering to carry their groceries, cut wood, or simply sit with them for a while. Rune didn't mind; in fact, he cherished it. His mother always said it was his gentle nature that made him so beloved by the village, and she was right. People respected him not just for what he did, but for the kindness that radiated from him without hesitation.
The other children in the village would race to catch up with him, eager to show off their games or tell him about their day. "Ru! Look what I made!" they'd shout, proudly holding up a small wooden toy or a bundle of flowers. And Rune would always smile and kneel down to admire their creations, his heart swelling with pride for them.
As he walked through Laelith, the village felt like an extension of his own family. The air was filled with a sense of community, of togetherness that Rune knew he would never take for granted. Even the simplest interactions—helping a neighbor with their garden, sharing a meal with an elder, or teaching the younger kids to play games—made him feel connected to the very fabric of the place. It wasn't a perfect world, but it was his world, and it was all he needed.
His mother would always tell him that life in Laelith wasn't about wealth or status—it was about kindness, generosity, and the bonds that people formed with one another. She was a woman of grace and warmth, her smile capable of easing any worry. She worked tirelessly in the home, cooking meals, cleaning, and tending to Kaela's needs. Yet, even in her busiest moments, she'd find time to talk to Rune about his dreams, to listen to his thoughts and encourage him to follow his heart.
One evening, as they sat around the dinner table, Rune's father looked at him with a mixture of pride and seriousness. "You know, Ru," he said, "I may not have much to give you, but I expect you to do your best. Work hard, and don't let anyone tell you that you can't make something of yourself. For your sister, for your family... show the world that you're capable."
Rune had nodded, the words lingering in his mind for years. His father's expectations were high, but so was his love. And Rune never doubted that everything his father did—every stern word, every lesson—was meant to shape him into the kind of person who could help others, just as he had been helped.
But even in the midst of all the warmth, something dark lingered just beyond the horizon, a whisper in the wind that no one could hear.
But happiness never lasts forever.