It was a calm and quiet day in Korin, located on the outskirts of Asgard. Korin was a small village standing tall in the open plains, with a set of crudely drawn Wards drawn around the perimeter the only things standing between the Demons and the vulnerable Humans. In the day, people milled about, chatting happily and going about their daily chores. However, once the sun starts to set, doors are shut and windows closed. You don’t want to be outside when the demons come.
“Aran!! Come back inside! It is getting dark,” his mother cried.
“Not before I check the Wards!!”
Grabbing his toy sword, Aran ran gleeful to the perimeter, carefully inspecting the Wards. Even though he was only six years of age, he was the village’s master Warder, drawing Wards with absolute precision, so much so that the village had gone a year without any Demons breaking through the barrier. He was taught by his father, a decent Warder and the previous master Warder, but quickly surpassed him in skill and technique.
Satisfied with the integrity of the Wards, he ran into his home, which was also layered with another set of Wards. After saying Grace, he had a quick dinner with his parents and was promptly tucked into bed with a peck on the forehead by his mother.
“I’ll go out and check the Wards again. Something doesn’t feel right.” Aran’s father said, moving quickly towards the door.
“Be careful, honey.” His wife called out as he shut the door behind him.
That was the worst decision he would make in his whole life.