Story of a hero.

THE ELEMENTALIST

Long ago, in a place far removed from the comforts of the kingdom, there existed a small and secluded village where even news from the outside world struggled to arrive, as though the land itself had been forgotten by time.

The village was not kind to its people, for poverty clung to it like a shadow that never faded, lawlessness filled the absence of order, and danger was always present as wild creatures roamed freely, appearing without warning and bringing fear to every home. It was a place where survival was uncertain, and each passing day was something to endure rather than truly live.

Yet even in such a place, a boy was born.

He had no grand name, no foretold destiny, and no guiding hand to lead him toward greatness. Like everyone else in the village, he simply lived a life shaped by hardship, where each day began not with hope, but with the need to survive.

From a young age, the boy worked as a scavenger, leaving his home before sunrise and wandering from place to place in search of anything that could be sold. Broken tools, discarded scraps, and forgotten belongings became his only means of earning enough to get by, and though the work was exhausting, it was the only path he knew.

And so, his days continued in the same quiet struggle, blending together until they became almost indistinguishable from one another.

Until one day, something changed.

While searching as he always did, the boy came across an abandoned house at the edge of the village, its structure weakened by time as though it had long been waiting for the moment it would finally collapse. The walls leaned dangerously, the wood creaked even without the wind, and the entire place carried a silent warning that it should not be entered. To anyone else, it would have been a place to avoid.

But to the boy, it was an opportunity.

Without hesitation, he stepped inside, unaware that every movement he made placed him at risk. The floor groaned beneath his weight, the beams above threatened to give way, and each step carried the possibility of being his last, yet he continued forward as if it were no different from any other day.

His innocence, and perhaps his ignorance, guided him, allowing him to move deeper into the house without fear, even as every sound around him warned him to turn back. Each step tested the limits of his luck, and each creak beneath his feet was a quiet signal of danger that he chose to ignore.

Until the moment his luck ran out.

With one final step, the wood beneath him let out a sharp, splintering cry before finally giving way, and in an instant, the floor collapsed beneath his feet. His voice echoed through the empty house as he fell into the darkness below, unable to stop himself as the world above disappeared.

For a brief moment, there was nothing but silence and the sensation of falling.

When the boy opened his eyes, he found himself still alive, his body aching with bruises but miraculously unharmed. Though the pain lingered, it was not enough to stop him from slowly pushing himself up and looking around, trying to understand where he had fallen.

What he found was something he never could have expected.

Beneath the ruined house lay a hidden basement, and within it was a vast library filled with countless books that stretched farther than he could see. Dust covered every surface, untouched for what must have been years, as though the entire place had been forgotten by the world above.

The boy had never seen anything like it before.

He had never gone to school, nor had he ever lived a life where knowledge was something easily given, yet there was one thing his mother had taught him that now changed everything.

She had taught him how to read. That single lesson, simple as it seemed, became the key that allowed him to understand what lay before him, and with curiosity slowly taking hold, he reached out for a book and carefully opened it.

The words were not easy to understand, and many of them required patience as he read slowly, piecing together their meaning little by little, yet he did not stop.

Day after day, he returned to that hidden place in secret, reading whatever he could and learning at his own pace, until the scattered pieces of knowledge began to form something greater. It was through those books that he discovered magic.

At first, it was nothing more than unfamiliar concepts written on fragile pages, but over time, those concepts turned into understanding, and that understanding slowly became something he could practice.

He began to learn.

As the years passed, the boy grew, and the child who once wandered in search of scraps became someone entirely different. Through patience and persistence, he mastered what others could not even begin to comprehend, shaping the knowledge he had gained into something real.

He became a mage, and not just any mage, but one who could wield all elements.

Fire, water, wind, and earth answered his call as though they had always been waiting for him, and what others believed to be separate paths, he walked as one.

The village that had once been filled with hardship began to change, not because he left it behind, but because he chose to remain and build something new.

From the very place he was born, he created an academy where others could learn as he once did, turning knowledge into something that could be shared rather than hidden, and slowly, the village that had once been forgotten became known. Its name spread, its people grew, and its future began to change.

Even beyond his village, his name carried weight, and the kingdom itself came to recognize him not just as a mage, but as a hero.

Vilhem Bernes: The Elementalist.

His achievements were never surpassed, and even after his passing, his legacy remained, carried through the stories told by those who remembered him.

And to this day, he is still celebrated.

"The end," Mother Lilith said gently as she closed the book in her hands.

For a moment, the room remained quiet as the children sat still, absorbing the story they had just heard, until one of them suddenly raised a hand with excitement.

"Me! Me! What was his other achievement?" the child asked eagerly.

Mother Lilith paused as if thinking carefully before answering, her expression calm as she tapped lightly on the book.

"There was one," she said after a moment. "He once joined a military force for mages, and during one night, he protected four distant villages at the same time from a rampage of creatures."

The children gasped in amazement, though one of them frowned slightly.

"Is that even possible?" the child asked with doubt.

Mother Lilith gave a faint smile before answering.

"No," she said simply, allowing a brief silence to follow before adding, "because he was no longer alive."

The answer was unexpected, leaving the children momentarily confused before another question quickly followed.

"What happened to those villages?"

"They were protected long enough to survive," she replied calmly, "and over time, they grew into what is now part of the kingdom you live in today."

A quiet sense of awe spread through the room, and even Hanabi remained silent as he absorbed every word.

"Can we be like him one day?" one of the children asked, their voice filled with hope.

Mother Lilith looked at them before answering.

"Yes, you can," she said, and the room immediately filled with excitement.

"However, if you wish to become like him, you must learn to read, and not just a little, but enough to understand what you are seeking."

The reaction changed instantly, as excitement turned into groans and disappointed faces.

"Can we learn magic?" Hanabi asked, cutting through the noise.

"Yes," Mother Lilith replied.

"Only if you become a noble," one child said jokingly, causing laughter to spread through the room.

The mood lightened again, and as the children were distracted, Mother Lilith raised her hand slightly.

"Light Magic: Aurora."

A gentle glow filled the room, and colors began to dance across the walls in a display that captured the children's attention completely, leaving them in silent awe as the light shimmered around them.

"Alright, children," Mother Lilith said softly, "playtime begins now."

The moment she spoke, the children rushed to their feet, laughter filling the air as they ran off to play, their earlier disappointment already forgotten.

And among them, Hanabi remained still for a brief moment longer, his thoughts lingering not on the magic he had just seen, but on the story he had just heard.

TO BE CONTINUED.

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