Chapter 0: The Quiet Fields

My name is Ori.
And no—I'm not some chosen one, nor a famed hero whose name echoes in songs.
I'm just a farmer.
I’ve lived thirty-two quiet years in this world, and the only remarkable thing about me is my Trait—singular. While most people are born with two or three Traits, I only got one. Lucky me.
It's called **Heart of the Wild.**
Sounds poetic, doesn’t it? Like something you’d expect from an elven druid or a forest sage. But in truth, it’s a common, low-tier Trait. Most adventurers who have it use it as a passive third—something to boost their animal handling or tame a mount or two.
But for me, it’s all I’ve got.
What does it do? Well, animals like me. A lot. And not just the cute and fluffy kind.
When I was a kid, I remember walking past a stray wolfhound pack in the woods. They followed me for miles—just stared, tails wagging. No growls. No snarling. It was… eerie. Since then, it’s only gotten weirder.
Birds nest in my windows.Squirrels raid my kitchen like they own the place.And once, a horned lizard the size of a goat came and slept by my barn for three days.
Even the creatures labeled as "monsters"—they come, they stare… and then they leave. Once, a cursed direwolf circled my cottage all night. I thought I was done for. But it just sniffed the front door and vanished into the trees.
That’s my life. Not a warrior. Not a wizard. Just a man with a piece of land, a small house, and rows of tomatoes and potatoes to keep me busy.
No wife. No kids. I tried dating once or twice, but let’s face it—"farmer with a weak Trait" doesn’t top many lists these days. Women want power, status, and a sharp jawline. I’ve got dirt under my nails and a scar on my left cheek from falling into a rosebush.
Still, I don’t hate my life.
It’s peaceful.
Mostly.
But things have been changing.
Last week, a wyvern flew low over my field.Yesterday, a baby troll wandered to my well.
They didn't attack. Just… watched me.
And now, the air feels thick. Like the calm before a storm. The birds aren’t singing. The forest is too quiet.
I don’t know what’s coming.
But I think my quiet little world is about to end.