The Marvel of Underworlds

1: The Hermit

Ten years passed.

Darkness circled him. The glow of a fire flickered upon his face. The conflagration in front of him blazed furiously, as the distant cackle of a child drilled into his skull.

To his good fortune, a sudden splash of morning dew woke him from the nightmare. Darkness was no longer in existence, only the comforting sunrise that lit up the dense woodland. The ground itself was wet from rain the day before. However, the vast canopy shielded the ground from flooding. Flowers bloomed around him, each one reaching for the sunlight.

The tent intended for his shelter during the night had collapsed and made him vulnerable to the rain. His clothing was soaked. Luckily the May air left no room for hypothermia.

Felix Moreau was what someone could call a hermit. However, he was anything but. He loved to be around people, especially friends. He thought of the wilderness as his home. After all, his village was destroyed when he was only a small child, leaving him as the only survivor. He wandered in the wilderness for years until stumbling upon the welcoming city of Ankarii. Still, he did not feel at home there. Even though he loved his foster father and brother, the family attachment was weak. He always felt out of place when with them. So he found a job that paid him to be by himself in the wilderness.

Felix was always thought of as strange. He rarely walked into town and when he bothered to, he carried himself with a disheveled appearance. His bright blonde hair was never brushed but merely pushed to the side. His green shirt was usually covered in dirt, and the knees on his pants were torn. Still, despite his messiness, people loved to have him around. He had a strange sense of charisma and charm that no one could pass up. His face was kind and inviting, and he was told once that he always grinned like an idiot. Somehow women fell for him instantly, but he was never one for romance.

He wiped his face off with his hand, removing mud, dirt, and pollen. Some people would find this disgusting. Him? He found it organic. He found it normal. He stood up, lifting himself out of the drenched heap of broken tent. He plodded towards a nearby tree stump, maneuvering between the rocks and tent pieces. Placed on the tree stump was his satchel and his cloak, barely folded. The cloak was a keepsake, consisting of different fabric from all over Valiterra. He collected the fabric during his travels and sewed them together to form his beloved patchwork cape. Luckily the cloak wasn't drenched entirely, so it was still able to be worn, but the satchel was completely soaked through. Felix bit his lip with frustration as he opened the bag. His spare clothes were, unfortunately, cold and wet.

"Rosaleen..." Felix scolded with a laugh as he hung the clothing up to dry.

At the mention of her name, a girl, Rosaleen, appeared from behind a nearby tree. The girl was old, of unknown age, but appeared age ten. The girl came and went as she pleased, but preferred to stay with Felix. She explained it as a sense of security. Rosaleen spoke to nobody. No one could see her. The fact that Felix could see her baffled Rosaleen, but she didn't make anything of it. However, Felix was unaware of this. He only thought of her as a lowly orphan like he was, wandering the wilderness in need of a protector. The only thing that was strange to Felix was Rosaleen's appearance. For living in the forest, she was perfectly clean all the time. Her golden hair was in a waterfall braid, and her white dress remained pure. What was even more unusual was her skin. It glittered like the sun.

"I didn't do anything," Her voice was soft and shy like she was afraid to be heard, "It was the rain, not my magic's doing!"

"Yeah, sure. I know you have it out for me," Felix grinned as he equipped his cloak.

She laughed gleefully, gliding gracefully along the trees. Her short dress shimmered in the sunrise. She was truly majestic.

"Hey, can you help me out here?" Felix asked after hanging the apparel on a clothing line.