Oliver Redborn walked through the forest of his home town, the night sky illuminated by Dao.
On his back he carried a large tubelike woven basket full of kindling for his family’s firewood stockpile for the upcoming winter.
Although his family had more than enough firewood to last the season, Oliver had made it a point to have more than they needed ever since they had to go through winter without heating after a bandit raid caused them to lose all of their supplies.
Oliver shuddered at the thought.
The red light of Dao’s full prescence casted the forest in an ominous bloody glow, something that any forgeiner to Owen would’ve felt caution or even fear towards, although to Oliver and many others, Dao was simply another feature, maybe even a comforting one.
Oliver chuckled at the thought, of course he would feel comfort at looking upon the home world of the barbaric Daemons. Especially considering his lineage.
Although Oliver looked like any other seventeen year old, with messy brown hair,black eyes, and white skin, his lineage could be traced back to before the Fucked Wars, like many other bloodlines could. Oliver’s family had a connection to the Daemons, the demon dragons of Dao, although a very faint one, the only signs of his heritage was the occasional patches of red scales along his arms and his slightly warmer body temperature, maybe his above average endurance too.
I wonder what I would look like if I had some Daevonic blood in me too? Oliver pondered as he walked through the forest, enjoying the satisfying crunch of the autumn leaves under his thick leather boots.
In the distance, through the thick underbrush of the forest, he could see the flickering candle lights of his hometown, Montyville.
Smiling, Oliver walked nonchantly to the thick wooden gates that surrounded the town, nodding to the guards on duty, as he entered the town.
It was a empty scene at night, most of the residents already inside their homes, save for the occasional worker staying up.
Oliver walked through town, before arriving at his family’s household, a one story abode with only five rooms and a small outside work area for his father who worked as a blacksmith for the town. He could see his father’s forge, the hot coals inside still alive although dying in the cold air.
Oliver walked up to the front door, about to grab the handle, before something happened to him.
A random shiver traveleld up his body, a cold sweat was forming, and he couldn’t move.
His eyes blurred with tears and he was gasping for breath as he stood completely still.
For a moment, an image formed in his mind, completely forgein to his own thoughts.
A thick, aged, tome, the symbol of a great Daemon depicted on its cover.
Or is that a dragon? Oliver numbly thought to himself as the paralyzation in his body took ahold of his mind.
The image of the tome ended as suddenly as it appeared, as sensation quickly filled the boy’s body as he found himself breathing heavily, his forehead slick with sweat despite the coldness of the air.
Oliver could only breath for a few moments, he could feel his heart facing for some reason as he forced himself to calm down.
When his body returned to normal, Oliver took another deep breath to completely calm himself before entering his home, the welcoming warmth of the fireplace enveloping him, as he walked inside, hoping to forget his strange sudden experience.