Prologue: The Orphan Who Slayed a Dragon

You know, there's something profoundly freeing about the realization that life doesn't have to be as complicated as we make it. People often get lost in a whirlwind of expectations and ambitions, chasing after goals that seem just out of reach, as if fulfillment lies in the next big achievement. But what if we stripped it all away? What if we could look past the noise and just exist, finding solace in the small things that life offers?

For me, it's all pretty simple. I don't think of myself as someone with complicated needs or wants. On the contrary, I think I'm a simple guy. There aren't many things I love, just as there aren't many things I hate. I can appreciate a good nap, the sweet freedom that comes from skipping chores, and the tranquility of the forest. There's nothing quite like lounging in the shade of a tree, letting the world fade away for a bit.

As for the things I hate? Well, I really can't stand the pressure of expectations. It feels like a heavy weight pressing down on me, suffocating and relentless. Then there's ambition. Sure, people praise it like it's a virtue, but I've seen too many get their hopes up only to have them crushed. It's like watching someone try to fly with clipped wings—just plain sad.

But change? That's a whole different story. I hate it more than a rainy day when I've got laundry to hang. No matter how hard I try to understand it, I can't grasp why people gamble the certainty of today for the uncertainty of tomorrow. Change feels like a cruel joke, throwing everything I know into chaos, uprooting the simple joys I've come to appreciate.

Don't get me wrong though. I'm not against change altogether. It can be good—like how the seasons shift. But there's a limit to how much I can take. Some changes feel forced, like a storm tearing through a peaceful day, leaving destruction in its wake. I've seen that firsthand, and it leaves scars deeper than you might expect.

Now, you're probably wondering who the hell this guy is, rambling on about his life philosophy, likes, and dislikes. I mean, why should you care about the mundane preferences of an orphaned kid from the sticks? Well, that's where the story gets interesting—or so I've been told.

Name's Alistair Altirias. I'm 18 years old, and if you asked the folks in my village about me a year ago, they'd probably say, "Oh, that's just the loner who lives in the forest—that lazy fucker who'd rather nap than do any real work." And they'd have been spot on.

These days, though? They'd probably tell you I'm the man who slayed the one-eyed black dragon. Yeah, that sounds impressive, doesn't it? Like I'm some sort of hero. But let me tell you, if you think I did it through some heroic act of bravery or skill, you'd be dead wrong. I'm about as brave as a field mouse during a thunderstorm. Really, the only things I'm good at are napping, avoiding work, and chewing on a coin my pops gave me when I was a kid. It's not exactly the résumé of a dragon slayer, is it?

So, how did I go from being a nobody to... whatever I am now? Well, that's a long story. But if you don't mind a tale filled with boring characters and narrative, unfunny attempts at comedy, and tragic backstories that would make you roll your eyes, then grab a drink, get comfortable, and prepare for a story that's probably not going to change your life but might just entertain you for a bit. After all, I ain't got shit to do.