The night was long.
Darwin lay near the furnace, wrapped in a coarse blanket that smelled of old leather and cooled iron. The workshop hummed with warmth and the slow crackle of ember-fed flame, but rest didn't come easily.
His body still ached—his back burned, his ribs pulsed with dull pain—but none of that compared to the heaviness in his chest.
Even with his eyes closed, the fragments of his memory played again and again.
His grandfather's smile.
The weight of the pendant.
The trust placed in him.
The promise he didn't understand.
And behind it all—
the cold faces of his parents.
Lavita Elkevis, turning away like he was invisible.
Alskade Elkevis, speaking to him only to criticize.
Auria's perfect mana awakening that made everyone forget he even existed.
He clenched the blanket, jaw tight.
His whole life, he had wondered what he needed to do to just be seen.
To be acknowledged.
Not even loved—just noticed.
But now, lying in the warmth of a stranger's forge, he realized something painful and simple:
They had never planned to see him.
Not at birth.
Not in childhood.
Not ever.
And a quiet, cold hatred simmered inside him.
Not a hatred that screamed or broke things.
But the kind that sat in the chest, heavy and silent, turning into resolve.
*I will survive.*
*I will grow stronger.*
*I will become something they regret abandoning.*
The furnace glowed softly, casting shadows across the workshop.
Grajisk wasn't sleeping.
He rarely did.
The old man sat at his workbench, hammering and filing a small metal joint with careful precision.
Darwin watched him in silence.
The way he worked…
the way his hands moved…
the way his brow furrowed with focus…
It reminded Darwin faintly of his grandfather.
Not in skill—Grajisk was different—but in presence.
In the grounded, unshakable aura of someone who lived by creation, not status.
Hours passed.
At some point, Darwin fell asleep without realizing it.
---
**The Following Morning**
A harsh clang jolted him awake.
Darwin sat up quickly, breath sharp, hand reaching instinctively for a blade that wasn't there.
Grajisk chuckled from across the room.
"Good. At least you don't wake like a corpse anymore."
Darwin rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the lingering stiffness in his limbs.
Grajisk shoved a wooden cup toward him.
"Drink."
Darwin sniffed the liquid—
bitter, earthy, slightly metallic.
"What is this?"
"Medicine."
Grajisk cracked his neck.
"Made from snowleaf herbs and melted ice wolf fat. Tastes like death but keeps you alive."
Darwin took a tentative sip.
His face twisted instantly.
Grajisk laughed.
"See? Told you."
But the warmth flooded his throat and chest, dulling the pain in his back.
The old man tossed him a heavy coat that smelled of fire and smoke.
"Put it on."
Darwin obeyed.
The coat was too large—its sleeves hung past his fingers and the fur collar brushed his ears—but it was warm.
Grajisk grabbed his own coat and stomped toward the door.
"Follow me. We're going outside."
Darwin stiffened slightly.
"Now…?"
"Yes, now. You won't get stronger staring at my walls."
The door swung open.
A freezing gust blasted into the workshop.
Darwin flinched as the cold bit into his skin even with the coat, but Grajisk simply stepped out as if the temperature meant nothing.
Darwin followed.
---
**Haze Forest in the Morning**
The world outside was white.
Snow blanketed the ground, the trees, the cliffs—everything.
The forest was eerily quiet.
No birds.
No wind.
Only the faint crunch of their boots in the snow.
Darwin stayed close behind Grajisk, careful with each step.
Grajisk glanced back.
"First lesson," he said, voice carrying through the cold.
"This forest will eat you alive if you treat it like normal land."
Darwin nodded faintly.
Grajisk stabbed his foot into the snow, showing how deep it went.
"Snow here is layered. Top is soft powder. Beneath it? Ice. Beneath that? Harder ice. Beneath *that*?"
Darwin waited.
Grajisk grinned.
"Death. If you break through too deep, you fall into pockets of frozen earth. No one climbs out."
Darwin swallowed.
"So step one: learn to walk like the locals."
He demonstrated—feet moving lightly, knees bent, distributing weight evenly.
Darwin mimicked him.
He sank straight into the snow.
"Not like that, idiot. Do it properly."
Darwin tried again.
And again.
And again.
After six attempts, he finally managed three stable steps.
Grajisk nodded.
"Good. You're not completely useless."
Darwin's lips twitched.
That was probably the closest thing to praise he'd received in years.
They walked deeper into the forest.
Frost-covered trees towered above them, their branches heavy with ice. The air smelled faintly of pine and mana.
Darwin shivered.
"This place is… colder than the valley I lived in."
"That's because Blizzard Valley protects its nobles," Grajisk muttered. "Haze Forest? It kills nobles just the same as peasants."
Darwin lowered his gaze.
He had always been told Blizzard Valley was "harsh."
But the Elkevis mansion was warm.
Protected.
Safe.
This forest was nothing like that.
Grajisk continued walking until they reached a frozen river.
"Second lesson," he said, kneeling to touch the ice.
"This river is your life and death."
Darwin stared at the frozen surface.
It looked solid.
Beautiful, even—light shimmering through the translucent ice like trapped stars.
"What's so dangerous about it?" Darwin asked.
Grajisk chuckled.
"You see water. I see beasts."
He tapped the ice with his hammer.
A deep echo traveled beneath.
Darwin tensed.
"What was that?"
Grajisk pointed.
"Frost lurkers. They swim under ice and wait for vibrations. If you fall in, they drag you down."
Darwin stepped back instinctively.
Grajisk smirked.
"Good. Fear is a survival instinct."
He stood up.
"Lesson three. You're going to build a fire."
Darwin blinked.
"But I don't have anything except—"
Grajisk tossed him a small pouch.
"Flint and steel. Use them."
Darwin kneeled, pulling dry branches together—trying to remember how he started the fire in the cave.
His hands shook slightly.
He struck the flint.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
Grajisk sighed.
"Put anger into it."
Darwin froze.
"What…?"
"Fire is born from friction, pressure, and will. If you don't want it, it won't spark."
Darwin bit his lip.
He thought of his family.
His father's cold eyes.
His mother's silence.
The servants whispering about him like he was a curse.
Auria's perfect smile that everyone adored.
Heat rose in his chest—
anger, humiliation, resentment twisting into something sharp.
He struck again.
*CRK—*
A spark.
Then another.
Then finally—
the dried grass caught.
Flames flickered to life.
Darwin exhaled shakily.
Grajisk nodded approvingly.
"Good. You're learning."
Darwin stared at the small flame.
"I… I did it," he whispered.
Grajisk's tone softened only slightly.
"Remember that feeling. You will need it."
---
**Walking Further Into the Wild**
They walked for another hour.
Every few minutes, Grajisk pointed out something.
"This tree? Don't touch it. Sap burns skin."
"That one? Hollow. Good for hiding."
"These prints? Snow wolves."
"This trail? A boar passed recently. Avoid it—they're deadly."
"See that slope? Don't climb it unless you want to break your leg."
Darwin absorbed every word.
Not because he wanted to impress Grajisk—
but because every piece of knowledge meant survival.
*Survive.*
*Live.*
*Become strong.*
That mantra repeated in his head.
Grajisk suddenly stopped.
Darwin nearly bumped into him.
"What's wrong?" Darwin asked.
Grajisk pointed at the ground.
Snow was disturbed in a large pattern—like something heavy had dragged itself.
"What made this?" Darwin whispered.
Grajisk's eyes narrowed.
"An alpha Ice Hound."
Darwin's breath hitched.
He remembered the jaws, the claws, the cold breath of the one that nearly killed him.
"This is not the one you fought," Grajisk said quietly. "This is bigger. Meaner. Deadlier."
Darwin clenched his fists.
Grajisk looked at him carefully.
"Do you fear it?"
Darwin hesitated.
"…Yes."
"Good," Grajisk muttered. "Fear keeps you alive. Arrogance kills."
They moved away from the tracks carefully.
Darwin exhaled slowly.
Blizzard Valley nobles had guards.
Auria had trainers and mages protecting her.
Darwin had none of that.
He had himself.
His anger.
His will.
And a sword that would only awaken when he needed it most.
As they returned toward the forge, Grajisk spoke again without looking back.
"You learned your first real lesson today."
Darwin waited.
Grajisk continued:
"No one is going to save you."
The words hit Darwin like cold steel.
Grajisk added:
"You live because you fight. You die because you slip. That's the law of this land."
Darwin nodded slowly.
It felt harsh.
But it made sense.
The Elkevis family had abandoned him.
No one was coming.
No one would save him.
And strangely…
That truth felt freeing.
---
**Back at the Forge**
They returned to the workshop as the sun dipped behind the snowy cliffs. The furnace roared softly, welcoming them with warmth.
Grajisk hung up his coat.
"You did well today."
Darwin looked up, startled.
"That was… praise…?"
"Don't get used to it," Grajisk grumbled. "Tomorrow will be harder."
Darwin smiled faintly—
a real, small smile.
"Then I'll be ready."
Grajisk snorted.
"We'll see, brat."
Darwin sat near the furnace, warming his hands, as Grajisk began hammering metal again.
This time, Darwin watched the sparks fly with a strange feeling.
For the first time in his life, he felt—
not unwanted
not useless
not invisible
—but **on a path**.
His own path.
A path of fire in the cold.
---