You wake, hearing the soft chirp of crickets and the wind gently lapping at the grass beneath your feet.
The night is young, the sun only recently disappearing beyond the horizon, and the world smells so alive and exciting in a way you have rarely experienced.
Stumbling upright, you scan your surroundings. An open field of wild grass, with mountains dotting the horizon, and a well worn dirt path you knew led to Orario, the only city in the world that had a dungeon.
All roads lead to Orario, the saying goes.
A long time ago, the first gods and goddesses arrived here in the lower world, seeking excitement and companionship. They offered their blessings in return for servitude.
Those who had a god's blessing became part of a familia, able to "level up" fighting monsters. There are many types of familias, though most were exploration based with the end goal being dungeon exploration.
You recall the process of descending and of sealing your divine power away, but it still thrums inside you. You know the seal on your powers is weak and so easily breakable, but the purpose of descending for most gods was to experience the world as mortals did, and for now you are content to do the same.
It was a pity that gods were forced to forgo the convenience of the powers that came with godhood, though you understand it was to maintain the power balance between gods and the dungeon.
However, just like how the goddess Hephaestus was a skilled blacksmith, control of the wind came to you as easy as breathing. (You were Aeolus, the goddess of wind after all).
On your journey to Orario, you first find civilization in the form of a small village hidden deep in the mountains.
An old man took you in (you know him as Zeus, king of the gods) and gave you shelter in exchange for watching over his adopted grandson - allowing you to temporarily experience the mortal lifestyle you had been so eager to seek.
You feel at home here. Though you barely know anyone around you, high up in the mountains, the constant presence of the wind offers you some semblance of familiarity.
The village is a tight knit group, a community that knew one another by name and was on good terms with one another. To your surprise they seem to accept you into their family quickly, perhaps more due to the glowing words Zeus tells them than from your own efforts.
You pass the time pleasantly, helping Zeus maintain his log cabin and watching over his adopted grandson, Bell.
His appearance is what you first notice.
His pretty face is framed by soft white hair, with cute red eyes filled with fleeting childhood innocence.
He is particularly fond of the stories of adventurers, and begs you to read him Dungeon Oratoria each night, a book depicting a noble hero from decades ago. You do your best to voice the wide cast of characters as he listens, enraptured.
You smile as he tells you about his plans to become an adventurer, much like the hero in the story. There is no arrogance in his voice, only sincerity, and for that you are even more drawn to him.
Your back is pressed against the gentle curve of a tree, humming a soft tune as you watched the slowly darkening night sky. The wind, familiar as an old friend, dashes across your face at irregular intervals.
Bell sits next to you, having decided to stay up to watch the night fall and the moon rise; to marvel at the constellations that could only be appreciated from high up in the mountains.
