The Original Realm

Luke trudged along the forest path, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. He had tried walking away, but Aldric—the talking ball of fluff with an oversized personality—had other plans. Aldric didn't just follow him; he took the lead, dragging Luke along with surprising strength for someone his size.

"Why are you still here?" Luke groaned, trying to pull free from Aldric's grasp. "I can handle myself, thanks."

"Oh, you're handling things splendidly," Aldric said with a mocking lilt, not even bothering to glance back at Luke. "Four days in the woods and already nearly bear chow. Truly impressive survival instincts, Fool."

Luke gritted his teeth. "My name's Luke."

"Fool suits you better," Aldric quipped, his tone dry. "Now stop whining and keep up. We've got bigger things to worry about than your bruised ego."

Luke considered bolting into the trees but quickly dismissed the idea. If a giant, spiked bear couldn't shake this little creature, running probably wouldn't help.

As they moved through the woods, Aldric's chatter filled the air, a mix of grumbles and sharp observations. "The world's gone mad, I tell you. First humans vanish, then rumors of those blasted Hands of Fate stirring up trouble, and now here you are—a human, of all things. Just when I thought things couldn't get worse."

Luke's curiosity piqued despite himself. "The Hands of Fate?"

Aldric stopped abruptly and turned, his tiny, bright eyes narrowing as if weighing whether Luke was worth explaining things to. "Oh, right, you're human. No wonder you have no idea what's going on." He sighed dramatically. "Fine. The Hands of Fate are a group of power-hungry lunatics, each representing one of the races of Aethereon. They want to gather the Relics—artifacts of unimaginable power—and use them to reshape the world. And let me tell you, boy, they're not exactly the kind to bake cookies and sing songs while they're at it."

Luke furrowed his brow. "How do you know so much about them?"

"I see things, Fool. That's what I do. I see more than your little head can even comprehend," Aldric said with a self-satisfied smirk. "There are whispers everywhere—dark elves rising against their tyrant, dwarves building horrors in the mountains, dragons beating their wings with pride. And at the center of it all, the Hands of Fate, plotting and scheming."

Luke's unease deepened as Aldric continued, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "The worst of them is their leader—a creature called Solen. No one knows where he came from, but his power..." Aldric paused, a rare flicker of unease crossing his usually smug demeanor. "He's not like the others. He's... an anomaly."

The word hit Luke like a thunderclap. His breath caught as Aldric described the figure: flickering between sanity and madness, speaking with a voice that could chill the soul, and eyes that seemed to pierce through reality itself.

"That's him," Luke said, his voice barely a whisper.

Aldric blinked. "What's him?"

Luke's fists clenched, his mind racing. "That's the monster... the one I need to kill."

For once, Aldric was silent. His sharp gaze lingered on Luke, unreadable and calculating.