Introduction

The village of Ashenstead rested quietly under the embrace of dusk, its fields of golden wheat swaying gently in the evening breeze. The soft hum of crickets filled the air, mingling with the distant murmur of the river that flowed lazily past the village's edge. The sky, painted in hues of orange and pink, cast a warm glow over the thatched rooftops and cobblestone paths, giving the village an almost ethereal quality. It was a peaceful place, untouched by the turmoil that plagued the world beyond its borders.
In the heart of the village stood a modest cottage, its walls sturdy with age, and its windows glowing softly with the light of a hearth within. This was the home of the Rose family, a place filled with the simple joys of life—a home that resonated with laughter, love, and the warmth of a close-knit family.
Inside, Reimer Rose sat at the wooden table, his small hands clutching a cup of warm milk as he gazed at his parents with bright, eager eyes. He was a boy of about eight, with tousled brown hair and a face full of youthful innocence. His mother, Elara, sat beside him, her gentle smile reflecting the light of the fire that crackled in the hearth. Across from them, his father, Alaric, a broad-shouldered man with a weathered face, leaned back in his chair, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he watched his son.
"Tell us again, Reimer," Elara encouraged, her voice as soft and soothing as the lullabies she sang to him every night. "What did you dream about?"
Reimer’s eyes lit up as he set his cup down, leaning forward in his chair with an excitement that was almost palpable. “It was amazing, Mama!” he began, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I was a knight—a really strong one! I had this big sword that shone like the sun, and I was wearing armor made of silver. I was riding a huge white horse, and there were people cheering for me everywhere!”
Alaric chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest as he listened. “A knight, you say? What were you doing with that big sword of yours, then?”
Reimer’s grin widened. “I was fighting monsters, Papa! Big ones, with sharp teeth and claws. They were attacking a village, but I stopped them. I saved everyone! And then…then I used magic!” He made a dramatic gesture with his hands, as if casting a spell right there in the kitchen. “I summoned lightning from the sky and struck down the biggest monster of them all! It was so real, like I was really there!”
Elara’s smile softened as she reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from Reimer’s forehead. “It sounds like quite the adventure, my little hero,” she said, her voice filled with pride. “But you know, even the bravest knights have to be careful. The world is full of dangers, and not all of them can be fought with a sword.”
Reimer’s expression grew serious, though the sparkle in his eyes didn’t dim. “I know, Mama. But I want to be strong, like the knights in the stories. I want to protect everyone—especially you and Papa.”
Alaric exchanged a glance with Elara, a silent understanding passing between them. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he spoke. “It’s good to have dreams, Reimer. But you must remember that being strong doesn’t just mean being able to fight. A true knight must also be wise, kind, and know when to use his strength.”
Reimer nodded earnestly, absorbing his father’s words as if they were the most important lesson in the world. “I’ll remember, Papa. I’ll be wise and kind, too. But I won’t let anything happen to you or Mama. I promise.”
Elara’s heart swelled with both pride and a touch of sadness as she listened to her son’s earnest vow. She knew that the world beyond their village was far harsher than the simple, peaceful life they led here.