A Friend? A Foe? A Stranger.

Ater stepped out of the dimly lit chamber, his eyes blinking against the sudden burst of sunlight that greeted him. The world beyond the door unfolded before him, a vibrant avalanche of colors and life. Lush foliage swayed in a gentle breeze, their emerald leaves shimmering with dewdrops that glistened like scattered gemstones. The air was perfumed with the sweet fragrance of flowers, their petals open wide, proud as if begging to be admired.

He stood there, momentarily awestruck by the breathtaking beauty that stretched before him. The room he had emerged from now resembled a massive boulder, intricately carved with ancient runes that adorned its surface. It stood as a testament to the mystical nature of this realm.

Clutching his lyre tightly, Ater ventured into the verdant wilderness, his footsteps guided by an ethereal melody that seemed to resonate with the very heartbeat of Yggbellum. Ater knew not whether the tune was real or simply a figment of his imagination. He looks down at the lyre.

"Where are you leading me?" Ater asks, knowing there would not be an answer. But directionless, in a strange land with which he is not familiar with, what better choice did he have other than to follow the melody?

As he marched onwards, his senses heightened, Ater became aware of the sensations that had remained dormant until now. A persistent dryness clung to his throat, a reminder of the thirst that had been overshadowed by his initial bewilderment. He licked his lips, feeling a faint ache deep within his core. It was a silent plea for sustenance, an implicative hunger that whispered from the depths of his body.

With determination fueling his steps, Ater ventured further into the lush landscape. Each footfall carried him deeper into a realm he was only beginning to comprehend. The grass beneath his feet felt softer, almost alive with energy, and the air itself seemed to hum with an otherworldly resonance.

His thirst persisted. A gentle reminder of his mortal needs. Ater's eyes scanned the surroundings, seeking a source of water that would quench the parched desert of his throat. He spotted a glimmer out of the corner of his eye. A familiar light. It was a babbling brook, its crystal-clear waters meandering through the forest like a shimmering ribbon. The sight alone brought relief, the anticipation of refreshment washing over him like the water he would soon so eagerly drink.

Ater's steps quickened as he approached the babbling brook. The soft gurgling sound echoed in his ears, beckoning him closer. Cupping his hands, he scooped the cool water, bringing it to his parched lips. The liquid cascaded down his throat, quenching his thirst and rejuvenating his spirit. As the refreshing sensation spread through his body, Ater felt a surge of vitality, a newfound energy that infused every fiber of his being. As he leant down for a second scoop, he notices his reflection on the water for the first time. There, staring back, stood a figure—a youth with gentle features and tousled, dark hair. His hands instinctively reached for his face, and as he does, so too does the reflection. It was like looking at someone he's never seen before, and yet had known his whole life.

With his thirst momentarily sated, Ater took a moment to immerse himself in the tranquility of the brook. He knelt by its banks, observing the delicate dance of sunlight on the water's surface. Serenity flowed through him, a profound feeling of peace. Ater picked up his lyre. He wasn't sure if he knew how to play it, but something within him told him he did. And with that, Ater allowed his fingers to move without thought. A soft melody began to flow from his fingers, the strings of his lyre responding to his touch with notes that harmonized with the sounds of nature. Lost in the enchantment of his music, he was attuned to every subtle nuance, every whisper of wind and the swishing of leaves.

But amidst the symphony of Yggbellum's embrace, a dissonant note reached his ears. The rustling around him sounded out of place, disrupting the delicate harmony he had cultivated. Ater's senses heightened, his grip on the lyre tightening. His eyes darted, scanning the surrounding foliage for any signs of movement.

Then, another rustle, closer this time, shattered the tranquility. Ater's heart quickened, and a chill ran down his spine. Without a moment's hesitation, he rose to his feet, every fiber of his being urging him to flee. His gaze swept the area, searching for any potential threat, his fingers clutching the lyre as if it were a lifeline.

With a surge of adrenaline, Ater bolted through the lush landscape, his feet propelling him forward, away from the source of disturbance. The forest blurred around him as he raced through the foliage, his heart pounding in his chest. Fear mingled with curiosity, fueling his determination to escape the unknown danger and...

In his haste, Ater loses his footing and tumbles onto the damp forest floor. Face down in the dirt, still clutching at his lyre, he scrambles desperately to get away from the chaotic rustling that was surging closer, closer. In his clumsy attempt to get up, his hand slips on the slick leaves beneath him. The sound getting so close it was as if it was right above him. Anxiously, Ater rolls onto his back.

"If this is to be my end, then I at least want to see it happen." He thought.

With a gasp, Ater's eyes widened as he found himself face to face with the source of the commotion. The sight that greeted him was both captivating and unnerving—a girl, tall and slender, stood before him, her braided blonde hair cascading down her back. In her hand, she wielded a spear, its sharp tip positioned dangerously close to his neck.

As Ater stared up at her, his heart racing, he noticed her striking features—a fair complexion, pointed ears, and eyes that shimmered with a mix of curiosity and caution. It was then he realized that she was not like him. The girl's gaze lingered on him, her piercing eyes assessing his presence. Her voice, tinged with a hint of authority and something Ater could not quite figure out, broke the silence. "You are not of Yggarra descent," she remarked, her tone firm. "What brings you to these lands, outsider?"

Ater's mind raced, his thoughts a whirlwind of explanations and questions. How did he end up here? What had brought him here? But as he glanced at the spear hovering perilously close, he knew that he had to choose his words carefully. With a steadying breath, he tried to muster the courage to respond and opened his mouth.

Nothing came out. He was too afraid to even utter a single word. The girl stared at him, her eyes intently locked with his. Ater was certain that this would be his end, but as he had that thought. The girl's eyes quickly darted towards the lyre before returning to him.

Ater had an idea. He slowly brings his lyre up towards his chest and begins to once again, let his mind go blank. Allowing his body to play the instrument naturally, as if he had done it for every waking moment of his whole life. The girl listened attentively, slowly withdrawing the spear from his neck.

As his short performance comes to a close with a soft strum, he finds his voice at last.

"My name is Ater Vates" He says.

And their eyes lock once again, but this time, with a different intensity.