Legends say that in the far north—where the sun never rises—there exists a land swallowed by eternal darkness, as if night itself had claimed it.
A land of merciless cold, where even breath feels like a burden… known as the Land of Shadows.
Whispers tell of a mysterious spring hidden at the very edge of that cursed land—so thin it resembles a strand of hair, yet impossibly pure.
It is said that whoever drinks from it shall be freed from the chains of mortality… and become immortal.
In the year 3484 B.C.,
during the reign of King Julius I…
Julius was a great ruler, commanding vast territories and earning the respect of his people through justice and wisdom.
Yet behind his greatness…
a quiet truth lingered.
He was merely a temporary sovereign—
a fleeting existence in a world that had endured for millions of years.
And with that realization…
came an emptiness.
A hollow space within him that neither conquest nor glory could fill.
For no matter how much he achieved,
he remained bound by the same unyielding fate as all mortals…
Death.
And so, a single thought began to take root in his mind—
The legend of immortality…
Could it be real?
And if it was… could it be reached?
Far from the ambitions of kings…
There lived a young man named Athrian, nineteen years of age, leading a quiet and modest life.
He served as an assistant to a sorceress named Laura—an old acquaintance of his late father—who had taken him in so he could support both himself and his mother.
His days passed in steady routine…
gathering herbs, preparing potions, and learning in silence.
But Laura was no ordinary sorceress.
She was, by all means… exceptional.
Despite being only thirty-seven, her name had spread far and wide, known for her extraordinary potions and formidable power.
One night…
At the edge of a forest near the city, Athrian moved carefully between the trees, searching for the Moonlight Flower. Laura had requested it to create a potion capable of healing even the deepest wounds.
The flower shimmered beneath the moonlight, glowing softly like a fallen star resting upon the earth.
A rare magical plant—one that must be picked at night, or else it would wither instantly, losing all its power.
Athrian knelt and carefully plucked it.
Then—
He froze.
Faint footsteps echoed behind him.
His heart began to pound. His breathing grew heavier.
He did not turn immediately. Instead, he secured the flower and slowly prepared to leave.
But when he finally looked…
His blood ran cold.
A massive wolf stood in the shadows.
From its head extended a black horn, faintly crackling with a terrifying energy.
It did not hesitate.
It lunged.
Athrian dropped everything and sprinted toward the edge of the forest, panic driving every step as the beast closed in behind him.
Then—
A blinding flash tore through the darkness.
Lightning erupted from the creature's horn.
Athrian saw nothing but white—
before his body was hurled violently to the ground.
The air was forced from his lungs.
Pain surged through him.
He tried to rise… but his body refused.
With great effort, he lifted his gaze—
And saw the wolf approaching.
Slow. Certain. Inevitable.
As though it already knew… he would not escape.
Time seemed to come to a halt.
Is this… the end?
So soon?
Without truly living… without seeing the world…
I didn't even get to say goodbye to my mother…
He closed his eyes—
And just before the beast could strike—
A sharp sound split the air.
In a single instant—
A massive stone spear pierced through the wolf, dropping it lifeless onto the ground.
Silence followed.
Athrian slowly opened his eyes, disbelief clouding his vision.
He turned, searching for the source of his salvation…
Then looked up.
There—
stood Laura.
Bathed in moonlight, a faint halo forming behind her.
Her long blonde hair swayed gently in the night breeze, her loose garments flowing with quiet elegance.
She looked… almost unreal.
As if she had stepped out of a legend.
Athrian's eyes widened.
"Are you hurt?"
Her voice was calm, yet laced with concern.
He blinked, returning to his senses.
"No… just a wound in my leg."
She quickly approached, kneeling beside him to examine the injury.
"I'm sorry… I was late," she said softly, a trace of regret in her voice.
"I shouldn't have sent you on such a dangerous task."
She placed her hand over the wound—
A soft glow emerged, wrapping around his leg, mending it slowly.
Relief washed over him.
Athrian let out a quiet breath and gave a faint smile.
"It's alright… what matters is that you came. Thank you."
She paused briefly, making sure the wound had healed properly,
then helped him to his feet.
"Come," she said gently. "Let's go home, Athrian. You must be exhausted."
And together…
they left the forest behind,
while the silent moon watched from above—
as though bearing witness…
to the beginning of something far greater than either of them could yet imagine.