Benjamin's eyes fluttered open. He was still beneath the giant apple tree, its shade cool against his skin. For a moment, everything seemed as it should be. Then he looked up.
The boy—Samuel—had been climbing just moments ago. But now, he was gone.
A wave of unease washed over Benjamin. His eyes darted across the branches, searching. The child was nowhere to be seen. But before he could call out, something far more terrifying caught his attention.
Everything beyond the tree was on fire.
The fields, the sky, the distant hills—everything burned. Yet, the shade beneath the apple tree remained untouched. The flames roared and twisted like living creatures, consuming the land in an endless inferno.
Benjamin pushed himself to his feet, but the moment he did, realization struck him like a blade to the gut.
This wasn't Centarious Castle. This wasn't the South.
The fire did not change the ground—it revealed it. The earth beneath his feet was not the familiar soil of his homeland but frozen rock and shattered ice. Beneath the inferno, beneath the crumbling embers, the North was laid bare. The Ice Mountain Valley, deep in the land of the Ice Elves, stretched before him.
And yet, impossibly, the apple tree still stood in the midst of it all, untouched by the fire, a lone remnant of the world he had known.
Then, suddenly, a scream.
Not just any scream—a child's wail, raw and desperate.
His pulse quickened. He turned toward the source, his feet barely making contact with the burning ground as he ran. The fire recoiled from him, as if unwilling to stand in his way.
Then he saw her.
Kneeling among the scorched ruins was a young ice elf. Her silver hair clung to her tear-streaked face, her small frame trembling as she clutched the lifeless bodies of three others—elves like her, their blue skin dull, their eyes frozen in death.
"Please," she sobbed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please… help them."
Her fingers dug into the fabric of their clothes as though she could anchor them to this world. As though sheer will alone could stop death from taking them.
Benjamin's throat tightened.
"They're already gone," he murmured.
The girl lifted her head.
Her sorrow twisted into something else—something sharp, something ancient. The flames around her brightened, crackling like laughter. Her eyes, filled with grief just moments ago, now burned with molten gold.
"They are not the only ones," she whispered, her voice layered, as though a thousand voices spoke through her. "You must save them all."
The earth beneath them groaned. The sky darkened further.
A deep rumble echoed through the world, and the ground beneath his feet cracked open.
Then—
"Ben..."
A shudder ran through him. That voice—
Slowly, he turned.
A line of figures stood beyond the fire, their faces pale, their eyes hollow. Soldiers. Fallen comrades. The ghosts of battles long past.
And at the forefront, one man.
William.
Benjamin's breath caught in his throat. His older brother stood before him, half of his face burned away, the other half frozen in an expression of anguish. His armor was shattered, bloodstained, his hands trembling at his sides.
"Please…" William's voice wavered. "Save us, Ben."
Benjamin staggered forward, heart pounding. "William…"
The earth beneath William's feet split wider. Shadows curled around his legs like hungry serpents, dragging him downward.
"No," Benjamin rasped, lunging toward him. "Tell me what to do! Tell me how to stop this!"
William's lips parted, but before he could speak—
The sky split open.
A monstrous beast descended from the heavens, its wings blotting out the stars. Two golden eyes pierced through the smoke above.
A dragon.
With a deafening roar, it unleashed a torrent of fire.
Benjamin watched in horror as the flames consumed the countless souls before him. The ground beneath him turned to an inferno, yet the fire did not touch him.
William's figure flickered, his charred face crumbling into ash. But before he vanished completely, his voice rose above the roar of the fire.
"Even gods can die, Ben…"
Benjamin fell to his knees, his hands trembling as the inferno raged around him. Amid the relentless flames, the comforting shade of the ancient apple tree reappeared—a silent beacon in a chaotic world. Slowly, he turned, his heart pounding with a mix of fear, sorrow, and confusion.
Beneath the tree stood Samuel. Yet the boy Benjamin remembered was gone—replaced by a young man whose eyes shimmered with an indescribable grief. His red eyes, filled with unshed tears, were fixed on the rough bark, his hand resting against it as if seeking solace from a force he could not name.
"Uncle…" Samuel began, his voice trembling with emotion. His words, simple and raw, carried a weight that Benjamin felt deep in his bones. "I'm so sorry… and thank you… for everything."
The sound of his voice, fragile and full of unspoken pain, struck Benjamin like a distant memory of a farewell he could not comprehend. Samuel's gaze met his, full of an unfathomable sadness, before he whispered one last, heart-wrenching word: "Goodbye."
In that moment, Samuel slowly withdrew his hand from the tree. The apple tree's glow faltered; its leaves shimmered and then dissolved into delicate sparks. In a blink, both the tree and Samuel vanished, leaving Benjamin alone with a crushing emptiness.
From the heavens, a golden light descended.
A warmth unlike any other wrapped around him, lifting him from the depths of despair. A celestial melody filled the air, a song of hope and power.
A surge of energy coursed through his veins.
Behind him, two enormous white wings unfurled, their feathers shimmering like starlight. In his grasp, a sword of pure flame materialized, its heat pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
Then, the dragon's voice rumbled through his mind. "Are you one of the Guardians?"
Benjamin tightened his grip on the fiery blade. His wings spread wide as he met the beast's gaze.
—
"Uncle! Uncle, wake up!"
A voice pulled Benjamin from the depths of sleep. His eyes fluttered open, his mind sluggish as he tried to piece together what was real and what wasn't. Had it all been just a dream? Or… something more?
It took him a moment to adjust to reality. As he rubbed his face, his fingers brushed against damp skin.
He had been crying.