Chapter 4: Magic Box

"Po..poc.. pocket " Oasis Stammer.

Oasis's hand trembled with anticipation as he reached into his pocket and retrieved the small, shimmering box.

As he held it, the box expanded , matching the size of what was inside. With a curious expression, Oasis carefully opened the box, revealing its intriguing contents.

Inside lay a finely crafted sword, its blade adorned with ancient inscriptions in a language long forgotten.

The hilt was wrapped in supple leather, embossed with intricate designs depicting mythical creatures and ancient symbols.

The blade itself slightly Visible as it covered by a cloth, gleamed in the light, its edge sharp and pristine, exuding an air of power and mystery.

Sir Elias's eyes widened in recognition as he examined the sword.

"This is no ordinary blade," he mused. "It bears the markings of an ancient language, one that predates even the oldest texts in our kingdom."

Beside the sword lay a set of highly enchanted garments, crafted from the pelt of a legendary guardian wolf from the Kingdom of Frostgard.

The fur was soft to the touch, radiating a faint aura of magic.

"These are remarkable," Sir Elias remarked, running his fingers over the intricate stitching.

"Crafted in Avaloria, known for their mastery of enchantments. The craftsmanship is exquisite, and the enchantments woven into the fabric are powerful indeed."

“Without a doubt," Sir Elias continued, his thoughts echoing in the silence of the room,

"after all, the guardian of Frostgard, known as Frostbite, was slain by the Special Unit from Avaloria, the Sunblade Knights, twenty years ago."

"So, my intuition about Oasis hailing from the eastern Kingdom of the Eternal Sun, Avaloria, was indeed correct.”

As Oasis continued to explore the contents of the box, he discovered a small pouch filled with gold coins.

The coins glinted in the light, their value unmistakable.

"Gold coins," Sir Elias observed, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "A generous gift indeed."

Among the coins lay several sealed scrolls, each containing powerful spells and incantations.

"These scrolls hold ancient magic," Sir Elias explained, his voice tinged with awe.

"They are a treasure trove of knowledge, passed down through generations."

One scroll in particular caught Sir Elias's attention.

"This is a swordstyle I've never seen before," he remarked, studying the intricate diagrams and movements depicted on the parchment.

"There are only seven famous  swordstyles in the realm of Aetheria, and this is not one of them."

Oasis's eyes widened in wonder as he listened to Sir Elias's explanations.

The revelation of the box's contents filled him with a sense of awe and excitement. "But who could have left these items for me?" he wondered aloud, his mind racing with possibilities.

Sir Elias shook his head, his expression thoughtful.

"It's difficult to say, but I am certain your parents left it," he admitted.

"They must have had great faith in you, Oasis. These are not just ordinary gifts—they are artifacts of great power and significance."

As Oasis pondered the mystery of the box and its contents, he noticed a sealed letter tucked away in a corner.

With trembling hands, he carefully opened the letter, revealing the words written inside. His heart raced as he read the message, the words filling him with a sense of purpose and destiny.

"What does it say?" Sir Elias asked, peering over Oasis's shoulder.

"It's a letter," Oasis replied, his voice filled with excitement and tears simultaneously. "A message from my father."

Sir Elias's lips quirked into a wry smile as he read the letter.

"It seems this is the legacy of your parents," he remarked.

"Your father's words are clear: 'If you survive, son, by the time you see this, I won't be of this realm. If you find yourself in Avaloria, seek for Cedric Sandborn, the Sandstorm. Sorry, my son.'"

"Cedric Sandborn, the Sandstorm," Sir Elias repeated, his tone filled with surprise and awe.

"The disaster of the east."

Two days earlier..

Tensions ran high in Mossy Hollow as the aftermath of the incident involving Oasis unfolded. Senior Guard Gesper stormed into the infirmary, his voice booming with a mix of fury and concern.

"Dammit, what happened to my son?" he demanded, his gaze darting around the room until he found Bozer, who had regained consciousness.

"I didn’t mean to kill him, father. We were only playing," Bozer stammered, his voice quivering with remorse.

As Gesper struggled to process the shocking revelation, another guard nearby was lost in his own thoughts.

"This kid... what he's saying about how it happened can't be true. I thought it was a mystic beast that caused the shockwave, but Bozer insists it was Oasis," the guard muttered to himself, his brow furrowed in disbelief.

"Who is Oasis?"

Meanwhile, Sister Marina, who was helping at the infirmary, returned from her visit to Riverbend Hamlet. She had been tending to Bozer and his friend's injuries and entered the room with a calm demeanor.

"Bozer, are you okay?" she asked, addressing Bozer with a gentle touch of concern.

"I didn’t mean to hurt him, Sister Marina. It was an accident," Bozer replied, his voice filled with remorse.

Senior Guard Gesper, his mind reeling with unanswered questions, turned to Sister Marina for answers.

"So, what really happened near the river?" he inquired, his tone tinged with urgency.

Sister Marina, her expression grave yet composed, recounted what she had learned during her visit to Oasis.

"Oasis is safe. He just needs some rest," she assured Gesper, her voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

As the commotion in the infirmary began to subside, Senior Guard Gesper was left grappling with the unsettling truth of Oasis's involvement in the incident.

"What on Verdantia is going on here?" he pondered, his thoughts consumed by the mystery surrounding Oasis and the events that had transpired.

Deep within Gesper's troubled mind, the image of the shockwave near the river played out in vivid detail, leaving him grappling with disbelief and uncertainty.

"Could Oasis truly possess such power?" he wondered, his doubts gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

Despite his inner turmoil, Gesper's sense of responsibility compelled him to apologize for his earlier outburst.

"I'm sorry for raising my voice," he said to the room, his tone contrite as he acknowledged the need for calm in the midst of chaos.

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