Chapter 1 : The preamble to my legend
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When I came into the world, a murmur of astonishment filled the room, as if time had stood still. The nurses, usually so professional, exchanged stunned glances, their hands hesitant to touch me, as if I were a precious work of art. My unruly locks, longer at the front and tapering towards the back, seemed to dance in the light, adding to my mystical aura. This is how I, Zayn, entered the world.

When my mother took me in her arms, visitors were captivated. Her eyes, reflecting a rare splendor and tenderness, rested on me with overflowing affection. Her smile, so warm and sincere, melted the hearts of all present. She exuded a sweetness and grace that made her irresistible, making her the center of attention in the room.

As for my father, he had a presence that could not be ignored. As he approached, conversations fell silent, replaced by silent respect. His confident gait, intense gaze and imposing stature made him a natural authority figure. People stood a little straighter in his presence, unconsciously seeking his approval.

I was a whirlwind of energy and curiosity. Every day was a new adventure, every moment an opportunity to learn something new. I was fascinated by the world around me, by the stories my mother told me, by the lessons my father taught me. I was a curious child, always ready to ask questions, always eager to understand.

Despite my young age, I was surprisingly mature. I was sensitive to the feelings of others, always ready to help those in need. I was empathetic, able to understand and share other people's feelings. I was also very observant, able to notice details that others ignored.

However, I was also a child, with all the naivety and carefreeness that comes with that age. I played, I laughed, I cried. I was sometimes stubborn, sometimes capricious, sometimes overconfident. But I was always sincere, always genuine.

I'd grown up in a modest but warm house, nestled in the heart of our village. The white plastered walls reflected the sunlight, making the interior bright and welcoming. Hand-woven carpets with intricate geometric patterns covered the floors, adding a touch of color and warmth.

In the center of the main room, a large wooden table served as a gathering place for our family. On one wall, a wooden shelf housed various objects. Among them, an hourglass particularly caught my eye. Framed by two finely carved wooden discs containing slowly falling grains of golden sand, it marked the inexorable passage of time. I would often lose myself in the contemplation of this hourglass, hypnotized by the constant, soothing rhythm of time passing.

As the days went by and I grew up, the whole village seemed to be under its spell. Children looked at me with curiosity and admiration, while adults murmured in awe. 

As soon as I could speak and walk, my father introduced me to the world around me. He taught me to observe, understand and respect nature and living beings. He encouraged me to be curious, to ask questions and seek answers. He instilled in me the importance of knowledge and learning.

My mother used to read me bedtime stories. Her soft, soothing voice lulled me into a peaceful sleep. My favorite story was "The Legend of the Soulmaster". Every time she read this story, I would lose myself in the fantastic world of the Soulmasters, dreaming of one day becoming as strong and brave as them.

The Soulmaster legend is a story that has been passed down from generation to generation. It tells the story of exceptional beings, capable of transcending human limits and attaining a state of unrivalled power and wisdom. The Soulmaster is the one who has mastered this art. He is able to draw on the energy of his soul to perform miracles, to heal, to create, to destroy. But more than that, the Soulmaster is a guide, a leader. He is the one who can unite men, guide them towards a world of peace and harmony.

Despite my parents' love, I always had trouble fitting in with other kids my age. My appearance attracted so much attention that it made people jealous, so I often found myself playing alone, a loneliness I felt deep down, a loneliness that weighed heavily on my heart. 

I remember when I was 3 years old, my sweet mom came to tell me the big news: I was going to be a big brother! Even though I didn't really know what that meant, I thought I'd finally have someone to play with. 

Days, weeks and months went by, and my mother's belly got bigger. I always stayed by my mother's side to make sure everything went smoothly, and then came the day my little sister was born!

When I saw her for the first time, I was amazed at how small and fragile she was. It was when she squeezed my index finger with her tiny hands that I finally understood what being a big brother meant.

When I was 5 years old, I had a well-structured daily routine in my spare time. 

Every morning, I woke up to the sunrise. Birdsong and the golden light filtering through my bedroom windows were my natural wake-up calls. After stretching and greeting the new day, I headed for the kitchen where my mother was already preparing breakfast.

While we ate, my father would tell me stories about the world, feeding my insatiable curiosity. After breakfast, I spent my time helping my parents with household chores. Whether it was helping my father in the garden or helping my mother clean the house, every task was an opportunity to learn and grow.

Once the chores were done, I spent the rest of the morning studying. My father had taught me to read and write, and I loved spending time reading books and writing my own stories.

The afternoon was usually spent exploring. I loved walking in nature, observing animals and plants, and discovering the secrets of the world around me. However, I spent most of my time alone, as the other children in the village seemed to avoid me.

In the evenings, after dinner, I often spent time with my little sister. I loved playing with her, telling her stories and watching her grow up. 

These moments were precious to me, but they were also tinged with a certain sadness. I often wondered why I couldn't be like other children, why I couldn't have friends to play with and share my adventures.

I remember nights spent looking at the stars, wondering why I was so different. Sometimes I felt like a lone star in the sky, shining with my own light, but separated from others by an insurmountable distance.

The years passed and I turned 7. Like a curse, my appearance became more and more beautiful and was therefore often a source of jealousy. I attracted so much attention that I overshadowed my classmates. 

At this age, it's difficult for children to control their emotions, so sometimes the line between good and evil is crossed, and not always for the better...

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