One cold fall morning arose. Sunshine fell through the thick trees, cascading a silhouette of the tall golden branches. Birds chirped in the distance, waking the fellow villagers; wind blew lightly, rustling the leaves and wooden chimes hanging from some canopies. Eerily, it was good weather, and a sweet rhythmic breeze floated throughout the air. Nevertheless, one in particular felt something deep in his gut, rather unsettling. It could've been something he had ate the night before, or just the fact that he had just gotten presumably the love of his life. Surely, it was enforced to be engaged within the tribes by the age of fifteen, The Nu'Lennia people were cultured, and this certain boy of fifteen so happened to be the son of the tribe's leader. Chief, they liked to call it. And because of this, it was even more of an essential duty- to carry on his father's legacy.