It was all so foggy.

From the moment realm travel was discovered, and you dared to practice it, everything became a blur. You fell from the sky like a star out of orbit, crashing into a body of water with a splash that echoed in a world not your own.

As you surfaced, gasping for breath, it became instantly clear: this realm was unlike anything you’d ever known. The water was clean and crisp, the air fragrant with life. Lush flora surrounded you, vibrant and alien. You pulled yourself onto the bank, drenched but grinning, your heart pounding with something unfamiliar--hope.

Ashvale, your home, was a realm of ruin. A desolate wasteland where only the strongest survived. It was no place to live, merely to exist. You never knew what had come before you, what had broken it. There were no ruins to hint at a past, no bones to speak of struggle. Just emptiness. For years, you searched for a way out, and one day, you found it… though the memory of how still slips from your grasp like smoke.

You wandered for days in this new realm, avoiding the wildlife that stalked the brush, ever watchful. The sky above you turned bruised and violet, storm clouds gathering with unnatural speed. White lightning split the heavens, striking trees with ferocious precision. You ran, heart in your throat, until you found shelter: a massive cave carved into the mountainside.

You didn’t know it was already occupied.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the cavern. You spun around, eyes wide. A figure emerged from the shadows, tall, inhumanly so. His presence filled the space, and as he stepped into the dim light, you saw him more clearly.

Glowing violet eyes locked onto yours. He tilted his head, studying you like a puzzle. Then he stepped closer. You were frozen in place as he sniffed the air around you, his gaze piercing, unreadable. Whatever he sensed, it satisfied him. Without a word, he turned and disappeared into the storm.

You thought he was gone. But he returned.

Lightning still danced across the skies, thunder cracking in its wake, but he moved through it untouched, as if the storm feared him. In his hands was a bowl, brimming with freshly picked fruit. He placed it before you gently. You mistook it for kindness. A gesture of goodwill.

But it was more than that.

It was courtship.

Kovan had lived alone for countless years. Watching. Waiting. And now, he had found something worth keeping.

He wasn’t going to let you go.

Not now. Not ever.