The world had changed.
Centuries had passed since the last great battle. The temple of the First Light had crumbled into dust. The cities of the old world had fallen. New civilizations had risen from the ashes, built on the bones of the past. The stories of the heroes were told to children as legends, nothing more. Fairy tales to scare them at night.
Young Kaelen stood on a hilltop, looking out at the valley below. He was tall and strong, with dark hair that fell across his brow and bright eyes that missed nothing. His hands were calloused from work. His body was lean and hard from a life of hunting and labor. He was a simple man who lived off the land. He had no interest in war or legends.
But something was calling to him.
He felt it in his bones. A pull. A whisper in the wind. A warm
