Adanis lived with his father Daidalus, and his mother Eliud, in the city Palm, located in the Eastern region of the continent Olympus. Adanis’s family was not an affluent one, but they were not poor either. Each year, the food produced through their hard hours farming, has always been enough to support the family. They were lucky- Palm was a city of poverty and not many people made it through the winter. Regardless, Adanis always had a desire to be something more than that- he wanted to above the simple farmer, he wanted his name in history. That was why, since his 7th birthday, he has always drank water from the river Haimon, which happened to run right across their land. “Forget the legend,” his father would tell him, “It is a lie.” “Adanis, you know as well as I do that the water from that river is no different from any water,” his mother would say. Well, it did not matter anyhow to young Adanis, and each day, he drank that water, waiting for that special day when he would become a hero.

As the winters passed, each year he became stronger. Year after year, after year, until he finally turned 18, when it was time for his turning of age. Here in Palm, when a child turns 18, he or she is no longer under the parent’s protection and will have to provide for his of herself. Unfortunately for Adanis, both his parents had passed away from a recent plague, in which he himself had barely escaped from. What was even more unfortunate, was that his parents had forgotten about writing a will, leaving the poor boy with nothing. Absolutely nothing. In Palm, people with absolutely nothing are not regarded highly, and therefore useless. Adanis spent months in hiding, trying to figure out what to do, when the idea came to him- he would become an explorer. He would travel across Olympus, in search of new land and rivers. And that, my friend, is where our story begins.

“This is revolting,” said that little voice inside Adanis’s head as he munched the bread he found in the streets. “Perfectly revolting. Ah, if only I had money!” Wiping the crumbs off his rags, Adanis made for the bar. Today was a very important day for him. On this day, he would meet with a representative from the bank to discuss loans to fund his exploration. “I would dress fancy, but these rags are all I have,” said that little voice again. It was getting rather annoying, that little voice. Adanis walked through the streets of Palm, looking at all that was around him. There wasn’t much. Palm was a city of poverty, and the streets were lined with beggars, the houses were draped in cobwebs, and the road was hard and rocky. Not at all like the city of Ophelos, which rumors say that the buildings were pure white marble, and every house, full of spices. Rich people. How was Adonis going to be like them? Sighing, he neared the bar, opened the door, and walked to a table, trying not to cough as the dust made its way into his lungs. Only minutes later, a middle-aged man around 40 walked in and took the seat next to him. “Hello there, my name is Artemis, from the bank. You are Adonis, I presume?” “Yes sir.” “I’m sorry, my memory has apparently failed me, what were you going to request?”