**Chapter One: The Village of Swancroft** Swancroft lay nestled in a verdant valley, cradled by rolling hills and ancient oaks. Its cottages were a patchwork of thatch and stone, their chimneys puffing lazy spirals of smoke into the crisp autumn air. Swancroft was a place of peace, where life flowed with the gentle predictability of the seasons. However, beneath its tranquil surface, the winds of fate were stirring.

Eliot Bramble, a young man of eighteen with a mop of unruly brown hair and an earnest face, had just finished his chores for the day. He was wiping his hands on a rag, the scent of freshly cut wood clinging to his fingers, when an unexpected commotion erupted at the edge of the village green.

"What's that ruckus about?" Eliot muttered to himself, curiosity piqued.

He ambled over to find a crowd gathered around an imposing figure clad in shimmering armor. The newcomer was a knight of imposing stature, his blue-and-silver surcoat emblazoned with a golden dragon. His presence was so commanding that even the village's...