The Journey of the Illusory Swordsman

Chapter 2: Destiny's Threads

Ten years had passed since the events that shook the village of Azura in the world of Nebula. Hiro, now 18 years old, had grown in every sense. With an average height of 1.70 meters and a physically balanced body, he carried with him the distinctive eyes that had become his trademark.

On a sunny morning, Hiro stood before a mirror, contemplating his new appearance. He wore a black cloak that covered his entire body, feeling the weight of the responsibility that this attire represented. By his side, the sword "Skyfall," a family treasure passed down by his father, awaited him patiently.

With no parents to take care of him, Hiro closed the door of his house, feeling a gentle breeze caress his face. It was as if his father was there, gently pushing him forward. "Father, I know you're still out there. It was impossible for you to have lost that battle," Hiro thought, nurturing the hope that his father was alive.

Bidding farewell to the remaining villagers of the village of Azura, Hiro began his journey. Carrying with him his memories, his desire for justice, and the promise made to his father, he advanced determinedly into the unknown.

Over the next few days, Hiro crossed fields and mountains, the familiar falling away as he left his homeland. Eventually he arrived at a forest. The trees stood tall and proud, unconcerned and dismissive and offering no guidance through their shadows. Their shimmering leaves and statuesque trunks were beautiful, Hiro thought, but unfriendly. He did not trust intuition to carry him safely through the wooded path.

Hiro searched for the map he'd brought.

"No way," he muttered, but he still could not find the map. He had forgotten to pack one.

He had planned for months, going over every item in his pack and asking every neighbor he had for advice. How had he forgotten something so basic as a map? His frustration bubbled up within him and spilled out as incredulous laughter.

The noise and commotion of Hiro caught the attention of something nearby. Hearing a branch snap above him, Hiro quickly stood up, only to be surprised by an unconscious squirrel falling onto his head.

Shocked and confused, Hiro watched as a voice echoed through the forest, "King, King, where are you?" Suddenly, a white-haired elf with silver eyes and pale skin, roughly Hiro's age, emerged from among the trees, visibly distraught. Without hesitation, she pushed Hiro, accusing him, "What have you done to him?" as she started pelting him with stones.

After a shower of stones, Hiro finally managed to explain himself, showing that he was innocent in the situation. The elf, blushing and still a little angry, finally calmed down upon hearing Hiro's explanation.

"Sorry for the misunderstanding," said the elf, averting her gaze in embarrassment, which caused her to appear more withdrawn and grumpy.

Hiro, with a mischievous smile on his face, replied, "Now that you're not hysterical anymore, my name is Hiro. And may I know the name of the one who attacked me?" He couldn't help but laugh, caught up in the relief of escaping the stones.

Hikari, still blushing, looked away, wearing a grumpy expression. "Hikari. I apologize for what happened," she murmured, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

Time had passed and Hiro and Hikari continued their conversation around the campfire on a starry night. The atmosphere was filled with magic, with the crackling flames illuminating the surroundings and the shimmering stars adorning the night sky.

After a laugh, Hiro said, "It's alright, after all, you didn't hit me with any stones." He found amusement in the memory of Hikari's attacks.

Curious, Hiro decided to ask, "But seriously, what is an elf like you doing so far from home? As far as I know, Elves are more reserved and only tend to leave their realm in truly necessary situations."