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MidReal Story
The Mysterious Boy From The Valley
Scenario:有一片美丽的山谷，瀑布潺潺，山泉流过，还有一个完美的海湾。
星宝在这山谷中开辟了一座农场，他有着丰富的种植知识和养殖经验，不仅种植着种类众多的植物，还养育着各种各样的动物。
后来他还开辟了鱼塘、修建了温泉和水族箱，农场变得越来越繁荣美丽。随着农场的名声越传越远，许多其他地方的人开始来到这里，带着他们的故事，带着他们的渴望或目的……
有一天，农场码头的渡轮如期而至，一位戴着鹰羽冠的印第安少女下了船，她懵懂地张望着四周，这里或许跟她想象的完全不同，她显得有些拘谨，迟疑了一下之后，她开始探索着走向了星宝居住的小屋。
星宝是一个非常年轻的少年，看上去善良开朗的样子，而这位印第安少女则有些像个假小子，作为部落最年轻的猎手，她在第一次见到星宝时却显得非常笨拙。
（我希望人物形象是卡通的或二次元形象）
Create my version of this story
Ran
She is a member of a tribe, known as the People of the Eagle, living in a world with magic. She is curious, brave, and adventurous. Ran arrives at a farm after being ferried across a lake. She meets Xingbao, the farm owner, and feels drawn to the place's uniqueness. Despite feeling clumsy, she explores the farm's wonders, such as hot springs and aquariums. Ran experiences culture shock but forms a bond with Xingbao through shared curiosity and childlike wonder. Her journey highlights her desire for discovery and belonging in this new and enchanting environment.
Xingbao
He is the young owner of a special farm, surrounded by waterfalls and natural wonders. He is kindhearted, cheerful, and knowledgeable. Xingbao guides Ran through the farm's marvels, such as fish ponds and hot springs. Despite his youth, he displays maturity in managing the farm and interacting with visitors. His naive innocence and genuine enthusiasm make him a captivating figure for Ran. Their age difference creates an unlikely friendship marked by shared wonder and exploration, forging a connection between two worlds: Ran's tribal life and Xingbao's modern farm world.
There is a valley where waterfalls gurgled, and mountain springs flowed.
In the middle of the valley, there is a bay that is just right in size.
If one plants some trees, it will be a perfect summer resort.
Xingbao had established his farm there; he must be said to have been quite knowledgeable in agriculture, as well as having much experience in breeding.
He cultivated all kinds of plants and raised various kinds of animals.
Later, he also built fish ponds and hot springs.
He even set up aquariums!
The farm was really wonderful; it should be said that it was a paradise.
As time went on, more and more people heard about it.
They came from places far and near to see Xingbao’s farm.
I stand at the edge of the dock, the eagle feather crown on my head swaying in the gentle breeze.
The ferry that brought me here has just pulled away, leaving behind a trail of ripples in the bay’s tranquil water.
Before me stretches the farm, a maze of gardens and wooden structures I’ve never seen before.
My hands fidget with the leather strap of my hunting pouch, a habit formed from years of uncertainty.
I scan the unfamiliar territory, trying to make sense of it all.
A figure emerges from a nearby cottage, walking toward me with light, purposeful steps.
He must be Xingbao, though he looks much younger than I expected.
As he approaches, his footsteps echo on the wooden planks beneath us.
He stops a short distance away, his smile widening as he waves in greeting.
"Welcome!" he calls out, his voice carrying across the bay.
Despite my instinct to retreat, I force myself to remain still.
Xingbao’s gentle demeanor reminds me of our tribe’s medicine man, who always carried an air of calm wisdom about him.
His eyes sparkle with curiosity as he gestures toward the winding paths that lead deeper into the farm. "What brings you to our humble paradise?"
"I seek the knowledge of the land," I reply, my voice steady despite the flutter in my chest.
Xingbao nods thoughtfully, his gaze shifting to the distant mountains. "Then you must be the one foretold by the elders, the one who will help us unlock its secrets."
I blink in surprise, the weight of his words settling over me like a cloak. "The elders spoke of me?"
Xingbao leads me along a dirt path that winds its way through the farm’s inner grounds.
The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and the distant tang of saltwater.
As we walk, I notice strange markings etched into the stones that line the path.
They resemble symbols used by our tribe’s seers, but there’s something different about them—almost as if they hold a hidden meaning.
Xingbao notices my fascination with the symbols and smiles knowingly.
"Those are remnants of an ancient language," he explains, his voice filled with reverence.
"They hold the secrets of this land, passed down through generations."
As we round a bend in the path, the sound of rushing water grows louder.
We approach a clearing, and before us lies a waterfall cascading down a rocky cliff face.
The roar of the water fills the air, and mist rises from the base of the falls, creating a veil that obscures what lies beyond. Xingbao stops at the edge of the clearing, gesturing toward the waterfall.
"The cave behind it holds writings from our ancestors," he says, his voice carrying over the din of the water.
"They speak of this valley’s power and how to harness it."
I step closer to the waterfall, feeling the cool mist on my skin.
As I peer through the veil of water, I see a dark opening in the cliff face—a cave mouth partially hidden by the cascading water.
But as I look closer, I notice that the cave entrance seems unstable, as if recent tremors have shifted its foundation.
Xingbao follows my gaze and nods gravely.
"Yes, lately there have been tremors in these mountains. It has made it difficult to access the cave."
I turn back to him, my mind racing with questions.
"What do you know about these tremors?"
He shakes his head.
"I’m not sure. Some say it’s a sign that this valley is awakening from a long slumber."
I frown, unsure what to make of his words.
Awakening?
What does he mean?
Before I can ask more questions, Xingbao gestures toward a narrow path that leads behind the waterfall and into the cave.
"Come," he says, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Let us see if we can uncover more about this valley’s power." As we make our way behind the waterfall, I feel a sense of trepidation wash over me.
The air grows colder here, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched.
"Do you feel it too?" Xingbao asks, his voice barely audible over the roar of the falls.
I nod, glancing around nervously. "It's as if the valley itself is alive, watching our every move."
Xingbao pauses, his expression turning serious. "The elders believe the land chooses those it deems worthy to reveal its secrets."
I press my hand against the damp cave wall to steady myself as Xingbao examines the ancient writings.
The symbols seem to pulse with a faint blue glow, matching the rhythm of the waterfall’s cascade.
Suddenly, a low rumble builds beneath our feet, starting as a gentle vibration but growing stronger by the second.
Small rocks tumble from the ceiling, and Xingbao grabs my arm, pulling me away from a section of wall that’s beginning to crack.
"What’s happening?" I shout over the increasing din.
"The land is stirring," he replies, his voice laced with both fear and awe.
The waterfall’s roar changes pitch, becoming deeper and more resonant.
Between the sheets of falling water, I spot a dark line forming in the rock face—a seam that wasn’t there before.
Xingbao's eyes widen as he points to the seam. "It's opening," he says, urgency in his voice.
I grip his arm tightly, my heart pounding. "What do we do if it fully opens?"
He meets my gaze, determination etched on his face. "We must enter and learn what the valley wishes to reveal."
I grip Xingbao’s sleeve as we approach the glowing object at the cave entrance.
The light it emits pulses like the sacred meteor fragments found in our tribe’s valley, but this stone radiates an intense blue-white gleam I’ve never seen before.
It’s as if the very essence of the stars has been distilled into this small, pulsing orb.
Xingbao reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small crystal—a stone that seems to shimmer with an inner light of its own.
He holds it out, and as he does, the glowing stone at our feet suddenly lifts into the air.
Dozens of smaller fragments, each emitting a soft glow, begin to emerge from the cave walls.
They orbit around us in a spiral pattern, leaving trails of light in their wake.
I watch in stunned silence as the fragments align themselves into a circular formation.
The air hums with energy, and I can feel a strange power building within me—a power that resonates with the land itself.
As I stand there, transfixed by the spectacle unfolding before us, I notice something else—something that sends a shiver down my spine. The cave entrance behind us is changing.
The rock face is shifting, transforming into what looks like a doorway of pure light.
Xingbao steps toward it, his eyes shining with wonder.
He turns to me, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and caution. "This is the gateway the elders spoke of, the one that leads to the heart of the valley."
I hesitate, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. "Are we ready for what lies beyond?"
Xingbao nods, his expression resolute. "We must be, for this is our destiny."
Through the light doorway, we step into a vast circular chamber.
The sound of our footsteps echoes off the smooth stone floors, and the air is alive with an electric charge.
The glowing crystal fragments continue to drift upward, casting flickering shadows against the towering walls.
As my eyes adjust to the light, I see that the walls are adorned with intricate murals—scenes of nature and of people wielding strange powers.
I recognize some of the symbols from our tribe’s stories, but others are completely foreign to me.
There are images of eagles soaring over mountains, hunters tracking deer through forests, and medicine men performing sacred rituals.
But there are also depictions of people summoning fire from their hands, and the valley itself seems to be alive with a pulsating blue energy.
My hand reaches out to touch a mural showing our people arriving in this valley long ago.
The painting is so vivid that I can almost feel the rough bark of the trees beneath my fingertips. Xingbao points to a series of symbols etched into the wall—a repeating pattern that looks eerily familiar.
"These are the same symbols we found outside," he says, his voice filled with awe.
"It’s as if our tribe has been here before, but we’ve forgotten."
I nod, my mind racing with questions.
"What does it mean?"
He shakes his head.
"I'm not entirely sure, but it suggests a cycle—one that we might be destined to complete."
I glance back at the glowing doorway, feeling a mix of fear and anticipation. "Do you think this is why the valley called to us?"
Xingbao's eyes meet mine, filled with determination. "Yes, and perhaps it's time we remember what was lost."
I trace my fingers along the mural's surface, feeling the raised edges of each symbol.
One particular marking catches my attention—an eagle with spread wings, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly light.
The image is eerily familiar, matching the design on the crown passed down through generations of our tribe’s leaders.
Without thinking, I press my thumb against the eagle’s eye.
Stone grinds against stone as a section of the wall slides open, revealing a hidden compartment.
The sudden movement releases a puff of stale air that makes me cough.
Xingbao holds up his crystal, casting a beam of light into the newly revealed space.
Inside, I see rows of wooden shelves lining the walls.
The upper shelves are filled with ancient scrolls, their edges crumbling with age.
Lower shelves hold ceremonial masks adorned with feathers and gemstones, alongside intricately decorated pottery and woven baskets. In the corner stands a staff, its length wrapped in strips of deerskin and topped with a cluster of eagle feathers.
My hand trembles as I reach for the nearest scroll, its surface covered in symbols matching those etched into the cave walls.
As I unfurl the scroll, a gust of wind sweeps through the chamber, carrying with it the whispers of our ancestors.
I unroll the scroll with trembling fingers, Xingbao leaning in beside me.
The parchment crackles as symbols illuminate one by one, casting blue reflections across our faces.
My heart pounds in my chest as I recognize some of the markings—they are similar to the tattoos that adorn the bodies of our tribe’s elders.
Xingbao’s crystal pulses in response to each glowing symbol, and he carefully points to a recurring pattern—a spiral shape that echoes the eagle on my crown.
The whispers grow stronger, swirling around us like an invisible storm.
Suddenly, his hand accidentally brushes against mine as he traces a symbol on the scroll.
I hold the scroll with trembling fingers, Xingbao leaning in closer.
Our shoulders touch as we study the glowing symbols.
A metallic glint catches my eye—something embedded in the parchment starts to move.
The scroll vibrates in my hands as a small object breaks free from between its layers.
I gasp as a miniature eagle, crafted from shimmering metal, emerges and hovers before us.
Its wings spread with mechanical precision, eyes gleaming with an inner light.
The creature lets out a sharp, bird-like trill that echoes through the chamber.
A beam of light shoots from its beak, spreading into a ghostly map that floats in the air between us.
The map reveals a path leading deeper into the heart of the valley, promising answers hidden in its depths.
I study the ghostly map, Xingbao’s shoulder brushing against mine.
The cave passages branch like veins through the mountain, pulsing with a soft blue light.
Above us, the mechanical eagle circles, its metal wings catching the flickering torchlight.
It emits a series of high-pitched chirps, and the map begins to glow brighter.
More details emerge—tributaries branching off from the main path, each one pulsing with an otherworldly energy.
With every new tributary that appears, my heart jumps in my chest.
They mirror the patterns of the tattoos on our tribal elders' arms—the very designs that have been passed down through generations.
I nudge Xingbao and point to the map.
"Look, it’s like the markings on Elder Akira’s arms," I whisper.
He nods, his eyes wide with wonder.
"I think you’re right."
Reaching into his pack, he pulls out a worn leather journal filled with sketches and notes.
He flips through the pages until he finds a particular entry—a crude drawing of an elder’s arm, adorned with intricate symbols matching those on the map. "This was drawn by our ancestors," he says, his voice filled with awe.
"They must have known about these paths."
The mechanical eagle lets out another sharp trill and dives towards us, landing gracefully on my shoulder.
Its metal body is surprisingly warm against my skin as it settles into place.
Xingbao watches in fascination as the eagle turns its head, its glowing eyes fixed intently on a specific tunnel leading deeper into the valley.
The eagle emits a series of chirps that echo through the chamber, and in response, small orbs of light appear along the tunnel’s path.
They pulse with an ethereal energy, guiding us towards our destination.
Xingbao grabs his pack and slings it over his shoulder.
I grip my hunting pouch tightly, and together we make our way towards the tunnel entrance.
The eagle remains perched on my shoulder, its metal talons digging gently into the fabric of my tunic.
As we step into the tunnel, the orbs of light hover in a line down the dark passage, casting dancing shadows on the rough stone walls.
The air is cool and damp, filled with the scent of ancient earth.
The tunnel slopes downward, leading us deeper into the belly of the mountain.
With each step, the air rushes past us, carrying whispers that echo through the passage.
I lead the way, Xingbao close behind with his crystal glowing softly in his hand.
The mechanical eagle presses its head against my neck, its warmth steadying my nerves as we venture further into the unknown.
As we walk, the orbs of light grow brighter, illuminating ancient symbols etched into the walls.
They pulse with a soft blue energy that seems to reverberate through every cell in my body.
I feel a strange connection to these markings—a sense that they hold secrets not only about our tribe’s past but also about my own destiny. The path begins to narrow, and soon we find ourselves at a fork in the tunnel.
The orbs of light split into two lines, each leading down a different path.
The mechanical eagle trills softly in my ear, and I feel its talons tighten ever so slightly on my shoulder.
In response to its call, one set of orbs pulses brighter than the other—a clear indication of which path we should take.
Xingbao pauses, glancing between the two paths.
"Do you think this is where our ancestors made their choice?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nod, feeling the weight of history pressing down on us. "It feels like we're walking in their footsteps," I reply, my voice steady despite the uncertainty ahead.
I crouch down near the wall, tracing my fingers over the intricate carvings.
They depict hunters with spears, standing alongside creatures that seem to be from another world—some of them we have heard about in our tribal stories, others are completely foreign to me.
My heart races as I recognize a repeating pattern etched into the stone—a sequence of symbols that matches the tattoo on our medicine man’s arm.
Xingbao kneels beside me, his journal open and a piece of charcoal poised in his hand.
He begins to sketch each symbol, carefully capturing every detail.
The mechanical eagle hops down from my shoulder and perches on the ground next to us.
Its glowing eyes scan the carvings, as if it too is deciphering their meaning.
I reach out a trembling hand and touch one of the symbols—an eagle-headed warrior with wings spread wide.
As soon as my skin makes contact with the stone, a soft blue light pulses through the marking. The mechanical eagle lets out a sharp chirp and hops closer to the wall, its metal beak pecking at specific symbols in a sequence that seems deliberate.
Each time it touches a symbol, it glows brighter than before—a hidden code being unlocked before our very eyes.
I sit cross-legged on the cold stone floor, running my fingers over the symbols while the eagle hops between them.
Each touch triggers a flash of images in my mind—warriors wielding light, great stone cities rising from the valley floor, and devastating earthquakes that buried it all beneath the earth.
Xingbao watches intently as I mumble ancient words I shouldn’t know.
The memories feel both foreign and familiar, like a forgotten dream returning to haunt me.
As I reach the final symbol—a figure crowned with an eagle, holding a staff of light—my entire body tingles with recognition.
I grab Xingbao’s arm and look him in the eyes.
"We have to find that staff," I tell him, my voice filled with conviction.
The path forward is clear, and with the weight of our ancestors' legacy upon us, we rise to meet our fate.
I sit cross-legged on the stone floor, Xingbao mirroring my position across from me.
The mechanical eagle is nestled between us, its glowing eyes fixed intently on the space where our hands meet.
My fingers dance through the air, weaving a story of visions and ancient lore.
The light warriors who protected crystal cities from the shadows of the earth, their staffs glowing with power as they defended against dark forces that sought to claim the land for themselves.
The great quakes that shook the ground, forcing our ancestors to flee underground and seek refuge in hidden places.
And how they split into two peoples—one half remaining in the valley to protect the power that resided there, while the other half ventured into the wilderness, determined to preserve their knowledge and way of life.
One group became my tribe, keeping the old ways alive through stories passed down from generation to generation and tattoos etched into our skin.
The other group created this farm, using symbols and crystals to safeguard the valley’s power and keep it hidden from those who would misuse it. As I speak, Xingbao’s eyes grow wide with recognition.
He pulls out his grandfather’s journal and flips through its yellowed pages until he finds a sketch of a staff—a staff that matches exactly the one I saw in my visions.
"This is what we have been searching for," I tell him, my voice filled with determination.
"This is what will bring our peoples together once more."
Xingbao nods fervently, his gaze locked on mine with a mix of awe and trepidation.
"We must find it," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Together."
I reach out a hand and place it on his shoulder, feeling a surge of unity flow between us.
"Then let us begin," I say, my voice steady and resolute.
I kneel beside my pack in Xingbao's storage room, carefully selecting the items that will accompany us on our journey.
The mechanical eagle perches on a wooden beam above, watching with curious eyes as I tuck my hunting knife into its sheath and add a few strips of dried meat from my pouch.
Xingbao enters with his grandfather’s worn leather bag slung over his shoulder, its contents clinking softly as he sets it down next to mine.
He pulls out a stack of yellowed maps, each one depicting a different path through the wilderness.
He also brings out a small pouch filled with crystal tools—each one etched with symbols that match the markings on our arms.
I watch intently as he rummages through the bag, retrieving a water skin and a handful of dried fruits that look unfamiliar to me.
"These should sustain us for several days," he says, handing me the water skin and some of the fruits.
As our fingers brush during the exchange, the eagle lets out a sharp chirp and I feel the symbols on my arm tingle with energy.
I secure my eagle crown tighter around my head and stand up, adjusting the weight of the pack on my back.
I spread the weathered map across Xingbao's wooden table, tracing the winding line that cuts through the dense forest markings.
The mechanical eagle hops closer, its metal talons clicking against the table's surface.
When I tap a spot where the path intersects with a stream, the eagle's eyes flash blue and it pecks the same location.
Xingbao leans in, his shoulder brushing mine as he points out faded symbols along the forest route that match the ones in his grandfather's journal.
My fingers linger on the ancient forest's outline, explaining how this path follows our tribe's traditional hunting grounds.
"Then we set out at dawn, guided by the echoes of our past."
I sit on Xingbao's wooden floor, emptying his grandfather's leather bag to check our supplies one last time.
The mechanical eagle perches nearby, its eyes fixed on me.
When I shake the bag, something rattles inside.
Feeling along the bottom seam, my fingers find a hidden flap.
"Xingbao," I call out.
He kneels beside me and we carefully peel back the aged leather.
Inside, a yellowed parchment is folded many times.
As we unfold it, the eagle's eyes flash bright blue.
The parchment reveals an intricate map with symbols I recognize from my tribe.
A path leads to what appears to be an ancient temple deep in the valley.
"This must be the place where the staff is hidden," Xingbao says, his voice trembling with excitement.
"But why would your grandfather keep this a secret?" I ask, glancing at him with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
"Perhaps he feared what might happen if the wrong people found it," Xingbao replies, his expression turning solemn.