Chapter 1: Whispers of the Forgotten Realm

The night was calm, blanketed by a thick fog that rolled over the village of Wyndale. Caelum, a slender young man with untamed dark hair and piercing gray eyes, stared out from his modest cottage, feeling a strange chill crawl up his spine. Wyndale was as quiet as always, yet something felt… wrong.

For weeks, his dreams had been plagued by whispers—voices speaking in a language he couldn’t understand. Symbols he didn’t recognize flashed behind his eyelids as he slept, leaving him dazed and confused upon waking. Tonight, the dreams felt closer, as if something or someone was reaching out to him. But from where? And why?

Caelum shook his head and returned to his small table, where the remains of his evening meal sat untouched. He’d lost his appetite, as he often did these days. Living alone, with only the occasional company of his elderly neighbor, Maira, he was used to solitude. But this… this felt different. It was as if the shadows around him had come alive, watching and waiting.

As he sat, lost in thought, a soft knock startled him. He opened the door to find Maira standing there, her frail form wrapped in a thick shawl. Her eyes, sharp despite her age, studied him closely.

“Can’t sleep, can you?” she asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Caelum shook his head, unsure of how to explain the nightmares without sounding foolish. Maira had a reputation in the village for knowing things. She was the one people went to for advice on everything from crops to ailments, though some claimed she had a touch of the old magic in her.

“It’s been happening more frequently,” he said, finally finding his voice. “Dreams… or visions. Symbols I don’t recognize. It’s as if… something’s calling me.”

Maira’s face grew solemn. She motioned for him to follow her outside, away from the safety of his cottage. They walked in silence, the fog thickening around them. After a short walk, they stopped near the edge of the village, where a circle of ancient stones lay hidden beneath tangled vines.

“These stones,” she began, tracing her fingers over one of them. “They’ve stood here since before our people arrived. They say they were placed here by the Ancients, beings who could traverse the realms.”

Caelum’s eyes widened. “The realms?”

“Yes,” Maira said, nodding. “Our world, the Shattered Realm, is only one among many. Some say the Ancients wove the fabric of reality, creating boundaries between worlds. But over time, those boundaries weakened, allowing dreams to bleed into reality.”

She turned to face him, her gaze intense. “I believe you’re connected to those boundaries, Caelum. The dreams are a sign. Something is stirring, and it’s chosen you.”

Caelum laughed, though it sounded hollow even to his ears. “Me? I’m nobody, Maira. Just a villager.”

Maira’s eyes softened. “That’s what makes you perfect. The Chosen One is rarely someone who seeks power, Caelum. It’s the ones who are humble, who live quietly, who can change the world when destiny calls.”

He wanted to protest, to dismiss her words as nonsense. But deep down, he felt something shift—a recognition he couldn’t deny. His hand drifted unconsciously to his wrist, where an unusual mark had appeared a few days ago, a delicate spiral etched into his skin. At first, he’d thought it a bruise, but it hadn’t faded.

Maira noticed his gaze. “The mark,” she whispered. “It’s the sign of the Dreambound. You’ve been touched by forces beyond this realm.”

Caelum’s pulse quickened. He’d heard legends of the Dreambound, figures who could cross into other realms through dreams. They were said to wield unimaginable power, to influence events across worlds. But those were stories, tales told to children on winter nights.

“Maira, what does this mean?” he asked, voice trembling.

“It means,” she said, her voice a mix of awe and sadness, “that you’re not just a villager anymore. The realms have chosen you, Caelum, and your path is no longer your own.”

The fog thickened further, wrapping around them like a shroud. In the distance, Caelum thought he saw figures moving, shadowy forms that vanished as quickly as they appeared. His heart hammered in his chest. He felt as though he stood on the edge of something vast and terrifying, a precipice between worlds.

Before he could respond, Maira placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to understand everything now, Caelum. Just remember this: when the time comes, trust the mark. It will guide you.”

With that, she turned and walked back toward the village, leaving him alone by the stones. Caelum watched her retreating figure until it disappeared into the mist, leaving only silence.

He stood there for a long time, his mind spinning with questions. The Shattered Realm, the Dreambound, ancient stones and symbols—these things had no place in his simple life. Yet here they were, thrust upon him as if he had always been destined to carry their weight.

Taking a deep breath, Caelum traced the mark on his wrist, feeling a strange warmth beneath his fingers. A sense of purpose, unfamiliar yet undeniable, began to take root within him. Whatever lay ahead, he knew his life would never be the same again.

And as he turned to leave, a voice—soft, barely a whisper—echoed in his mind.

“Awaken, Dreambound.”

---

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***