The Continent of Altheria and Its Five Kingdoms
Long ago, the continent of Altheria was a land of peace. But that was a thousand years ago, when people still believed that the sky and earth moved in harmony. Now, only five kingdoms remain—suspicious of each other, fighting for power:
Kingdom of Dravern:
A huge military force in the north, ruled by King Kaedros, a ruthless leader who believes peace can only be achieved through total domination. Dravern burns neutral villages and uses fear as a weapon.
They were the ones who destroyed Lans's village, Thergon, and left a trail of ruin across the land.
Kingdom of Caldenya:
Located at the heart of Altheria, Caldenya is rich in farming and trade. Led by Queen Veira, it's a symbol of hope and stability.
They tried to stay out of war, but four years ago, Dravern took one of their border cities—close to where Lans's parents were killed. Since then, Caldenya officially joined the war, fighting not out of ambition, but to protect their people.
Even though their economy is falling and food is running low, Caldenya's spirit remains strong.
Kingdom of Velcorin:
A land of hills and rich metal mines. Velcorin makes weapons and sells them to Dravern.
Ruled by the Council of Three Iron Lords, Velcorin only cares about profit, not about who wins. They are greedy, cold, and blind to the suffering around them.
Kingdom of Aurenval:
A small kingdom in the south, filled with deep forests and quiet valleys. Aurenval treasures ancient magic, honor, and harmony with nature.
Though small, they secretly support Caldenya by sending supplies and information. Aurenval is known for its healers, magical artisans, and as protectors of the Timekeepers.
Kingdom of Edevan:
Once mighty, now broken. Civil war tore them apart.
Some nobles became mercenaries, others led small armies fighting over scraps of land.
Edevan takes no side, but their chaos makes it easier for Dravern and Velcorin to cause more trouble.
Many of Edevan's people now wander as refugees, carrying nothing but fragile hope.
Lans Silverkin's Story
Lans wasn't a noble. He was born to a humble doctor and nurse who ran a small clinic in Thergon.
His father, Erlon Silverkin, had studied healing in Aurenval, and his mother, Mira, was the village nurse, full of kindness. Lans grew up seeing wounds being healed, not made.
But everything changed when he was 14.
Dravern soldiers attacked Thergon, calling it a "supply line" to Caldenya.
Without warning, they burned the village.
Lans's father was killed for refusing to heal a soldier who had harmed a young girl. His mother died trying to protect children trapped in the burning church.
Lans survived only because he had been sent to a nearby village to buy herbs.
That day, Lans made a vow: if he couldn't stop war, he would save as many lives as he could.
He spent his time learning healing, making simple remedies, and recognizing illnesses.
Though he burned with anger against Dravern, his heart stayed soft.
He hated destruction, not people.
The Mourning Morning
Three days after the attack, Lans returned to Thergon.
What he found was ashes.
Burned houses, stolen food, and black dust floating in the air.
He walked slowly through the ruins.
At the place where his parents' clinic once stood, there was only scorched stone and broken wood.
He knelt down, grabbing a handful of blackened earth.
"Dad… Mom…"
Tears streamed down his face, silent and heavy.
As Lans sat among the ruins, lost in sorrow, soft footsteps approached.
Not enemies.
Not villagers.
An old man in a faded gray cloak stood nearby.
His face was lined with deep wrinkles, but his eyes still burned with life.
"Your name is Lans, right?" he asked gently.
Lans looked up, wary. "Who are you?"
"I'm Aven Maelor," the old man said. "An old friend of your father's."
The name was unfamiliar, but somehow... felt familiar too.
Aven glanced around the ruined village.
"You can't stay here. Not tonight. There's a small town called Delmar to the south, where survivors are gathering. Come with me. We can talk along the way."
Lans hesitated, haunted by memories of wolves and flames.
Then he nodded.
They walked through the forest in silence until the sun began to sink and the cool wind whispered through the trees.
Then Aven spoke:
"Your father, Erlon… he chose the path of healing. But we once studied together in Aurenval.
Not just human knowledge—but traces of ancient magic."
"Magic?" Lans asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," Aven smiled. "But not the kind that moves mountains or sets fire to rain. I studied a different path—the path of legends. About time... and the creatures that guard it."
Lans listened closely.
"Have you ever heard of the Timekeepers?" Aven asked.
Lans shook his head.
"That's not surprising," Aven said. "Most people don't even know time can be protected. But there are heavenly creatures whose job is to guard time itself. They hide as animals, moving unseen. They only reveal themselves when the world is in great danger."
Lans swallowed hard.
"Time... can be attacked?"
"Yes," Aven said heavily. "From outside."
He stopped walking and looked Lans straight in the eyes.
"Our world isn't the only one, Lans.
There's another—an underworld—separated from us by the Sphere of Time. A barrier only time-powered beings can cross.
Timekeepers keep that barrier strong. But if they die… it weakens.
And then... they can enter."
"Who?" Lans whispered.
"Demons from the underworld," Aven answered. "And their leader is Velgrath. A demon who already killed two Timekeepers. Each time he kills, he grows stronger.
The bird you saved… was almost his third victim."
Lans looked down, everything starting to make sense now—the slowing of time, the strange light, the wolf that almost killed him.
"He... the bird... he saved me."
"And more than that," Aven said. "He chose you."
"Chose... me?"
"Yes," Aven said. "A Timekeeper can only pass their power to someone they trust.
Someone pure-hearted, without ambition.
You helped without knowing who he was. You didn't ask for a reward.
You didn't want to be a hero."
Training Time
By sunset, they reached an old ruined tower wrapped in moss and roots.
"This was once a Timekeeper's sanctuary," Aven said softly.
Lans watched him curiously.
"What do you mean, traces of time?"
Aven placed his hand on the cracked wall.
A light vibration filled the air.
A misty vision appeared—like a memory frozen in time.
A woman handing something to a white wolf.
Not clear.
Not fully real.
But Lans could feel it—it wasn't just a dream.
"This memory is hidden in the fabric of time," Aven explained.
He pointed at the ground. "I can sense where Timekeepers have been… or where demons have crossed."
"I knew when Velgrath entered our world.
I knew when the Timekeeper passed his power to you.
That's why I found you."
Lans nodded slowly, trying to absorb it all.
Aven pulled out two small apples, bruised and pale red.
"Let's begin your training," he said.
"You won't change shapes. You won't teleport. Not yet.
Right now, you'll learn to slow time."
Aven lifted an apple in his hand.
"When I drop this apple, focus.
Feel like you yourself are moving slower.
No spells. No magic words. Just feel it."
Lans stood, nervous.
The apple dropped.
It fell normally and hit the ground.
"I failed," Lans said.
"No," Aven smiled. "You tried once."
He picked up another apple.
"This time, imagine yourself moving through heavy air."
The apple dropped again.
This time... Lans felt a pulse inside him.
The world thickened.
The apple slowed down in mid-air.
It wasn't frozen.
But it was slow enough for Lans to see every detail—the spin, the shadow.
The apple landed softly.
Lans collapsed to the ground, exhausted.
"You did it," Aven said, handing him water.
"It was only a few seconds," Lans panted.
"That's enough," Aven said. "In battle, one second can save a life.
And you, Lans... have just learned that time can bend to your heart."
As they rested, Aven added:
"The bird you saved…
His name was Kael'Tharys.
One of the strongest of the Timekeepers."
Kael guarded the western gate of Altheria—where demons often tried to break through.
Kael was fast, nearly invisible.
But Velgrath found a way to catch him.
Kael used his last strength to freeze time for a few seconds—just enough to fall into Lans's path.
Now, the power that once protected all of Altheria... was inside Lans.
Whether he wanted it or not—he had become part of a much greater war.
Far away, on a dark hill, a black crow with burning red eyes watched their small campfire.
Behind the crow, a tall shadow stood, hidden among the trees.
"He has chosen," the shadow whispered, voice like cracked stone.
"And now… I know where they are."