𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖘𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉

Chapter 0: The Mage's Prologue

As soon as I throw myself to the mattress that takes up most of the space in my small room, I hear a voice not quite feminine, not quite masculine, within my mind, "Somewhere too distant to reach in your lifetime with the fastest horse, in a nation currently wrought with turmoil, in a forest whose trees are famously steadfast against the deadliest creatures of the night, and in a large cabin set into a large cliff face, an old man questions the tastes of their grandchildren".

That voice... what is this place? I can see from an overhead view, probably just against the ceiling, what looks to be a frankly primitive house, made using unprocessed logs... a log cabin? A huge bear hide more than five times the size of the average man spanning half the visible house rests within it's center, it's feet resting near a set of bookcases and roughly cut chairs facing a cobblestone fireplace, the only stone object within the entire place. Here, I can see an old man with a cloak facing away from me, their back facing the bookshelves, presumably arguing with a young girl and a boy who appears to have only recently learned to walk.

He smirks, giving the young girl and boy a noogie and head pat, respectively, "That book again, eh? We have plenty of books. We have adventurous goblins seeking treasure, troublesome vampires looking to devour would-be adventurers... are you sure you two want me to read that book to you again?" The little girl grins and jumps up and down impatiently, shaking their long unruly hair and creaking the wooden floor, "Yes! We love that book! We don't have that book at home, the old librarian doesn't have it!" A smaller, younger boy timidly nods, giving a confused smile. 

The old man responds with an accusatory voice, "Oh, well. I'll read it to you again, since I love you so much you little goblins... but stop saying 'we', you know your little brother probably doesn't even know what a book is yet." With that, a muscled old man turns to face me, their pecks revealing that they're only wearing the cloak and cloth pants, walking up to what appears to be a mahogany bookshelf. Who is that man, I haven't seen anyone in my life with muscles like those. God, why is that my first thought. Who are those children?  Is this... a dream? How long did I stay up late last night?

"Hmm..." They say, trying to remember where the book was. I'm caught off-guard as I can suddenly hear their thoughts echoing in a similar vein to that first voice, "Every time I've read it, it reminds me of her, and how we came to meet. Ah, she loved books, and I thought at first her fascination with me ended with this rare book that we possessed. That was not the case."

"What was the name, again...?" They question to themselves. Once again, their thoughts are forcefully voiced to me, "Old age takes it's toll; I've been reading this book since he was a toddler, yet some details even fresh my memory escape him. The priests, physicians, and mages alike have no cure, unfortunately. Here's the first page, it's name was...?"

"Ah, yes, here it is children; 'The 22 Ages to Shape the World'" He finally states, pulling a drab-looking brown, unnamed book from the shelf. "After having to spend a month tracking down the one who stole it in his youth, it was given a new, less expensive-looking binding. Heh, that was technically my first adventuring job." The old man remarks, unaware that I'm perusing his thoughts.

"Ahem!" He says, getting the attention of the two youngest. Panzi and Laurel had gotten distracted and were failing to capture an ant using a withered, oddly colored turquoise leaf when they were interrupted by their grandpa, Belruth. When... did those names appear within my mind? Did I come up with them? Panzi is a 5 year old girl with bright, blonde hair, obviously within the same vein as... Belruth, was it?

Meanwhile, Laurel is a 4-year-old boy donning crystal white hair, reflecting early moonlight coming in from the sole window to the left of the fireplace, it's material likely glass... and more roughly-cut logs, of course. This begs the question; are they albino, or is it something else? I don't care if this is a dream, I'm getting invested in this!