The night was calm, yet the air vibrated with an energy older than the village itself. Tiny feet shuffled across the soft moss of the forest clearing, and the fireflies sparkled as if celebrating. The child's wide and curious eyes reflected not only the flickering lights but also a hidden spark — the faint glow of something extraordinary awakening.
During spring, everyone gathered by the river as Shadrex was held by Old Treaton, who blessed him at the river of the past. Gladys splashed water on Kendrick and pretended to "clean him of bad luck," her lips smiling and cheeks widening. As Miss Pry finished the blessing dance, people from every corner of the town—men, women, hybrids, halflings—touched the feet of Shadrex. The day was generally a cleansing ceremony, and the atmosphere was filled with harmony as they welcomed Shadrex.
Shadrex's eyes glowed deeper until they became completely red. Miss Pry could feel the pulsating energy radiating from him, an energy she couldn't comprehend. Gladys watched and gradually approached in bewilderment, her baby eyes reflecting one red hue as she cradled Shadrex against her chest.
A year passed in the blink of an eye as Shadrex struggled to take his first steps. Kendrick, with a calm voice, encouraged, "Go on, little one," kneeling close. His hands hovered just behind, ready but never touching. "The world is waiting."
The child wobbled, arms flailing like branches in the wind. Each step seemed impossible, yet something unseen urged him forward. With a tiny squeal of effort, he leaned into the air and — for a heartbeat — forgot gravity.
A force of red energy surged from the soles of his feet as he placed one foot ahead of the other, then another, and another. The world seemed still as Kendrick held his breath. Leaves rustled on the ground as Shadrex bent to pick one up. Kendrick muttered, "Oh boy, not yet," as he cleared the path with his hands.
The first step was taken. It was small, fragile, and perfect. In that fragile step, the world itself seemed to recognize a power that had been waiting, silent yet profound. Somewhere deep in the mountains, old magic stirred beneath the hollow earth.
The child stumbled once, giggled, and tried again. Each step forward was a quiet rebellion against the ordinary, a tiny surge toward the extraordinary. Today, the village would remember the first step. Tomorrow, the world might remember the child who took it.
Kendrick called out for Gladys, who softly murmured that she had to finish the tunic and cloak. With reassuring words, Kendrick pointed out, "Look, he walks!" Gladys dropped the basket of clothes and rushed out, almost missing a step as she lifted Shadrex from the beginning. She pointed him to the sky and spun around, causing soft giggles from Shadrex. They both laughed as they watched him stumble and try to stand. The view tilted as the horizon shone with the sun's rays.
The world existed in vibrations, in the humming of the wind, in the rhythm of feet on cobblestone. People feared him, not for what he had done, but for what he could do. The blade at his side, sheathed in worn leather, was said to choose its moment. Norshan did not.
He walked the village streets at dusk, leaning on a twisted oak cane that tapped in time with his heartbeat. Children dared each other to follow him; merchants prayed he would pass by without incident. Yet, the blind man never harmed anyone.
One evening, a commotion shattered the usual stillness. The smith's daughter had been cornered by three drunken men in the market square, their intent cruel and their laughter jagged. Panic rippled through the crowd. Norshan appeared at the edge of the square as if materializing from the shadows.
He did not shout. He did not run. He listened. The rhythm of their steps told him everything — their weight, their aggression, the way one paused too long, the other leaned too heavily on his wine-stained cane. Then he moved. Not a step forward, but the air shifted.
The three men froze. They had never seen him approach, yet they felt it — the inevitability in his presence. The sword at his side remained sheathed, yet their own fear became a blade sharper than steel. Panic surged through them, and they fled before Norshan even touched a toe to the cobblestone.
When the villagers approached afterward, the smith's daughter was unharmed, safe though trembling. Norshan stood alone in the square, silent, listening to the whispers of the wind.
"Why didn't you…" someone finally asked.
Norshan tilted his head. "The blade is not for them," he said softly. "It is for me, to remind myself of what I do not need to do."
From that night onward, the legend of Norshan grew. Not the legend of a man who slashed with his sword, but of a man who carried the weight of every pain yet refused to draw it. People left offerings at the edges of the square — a loaf of bread, a small coin, a whispered thanks — and the blind man walked past them all, his eyes forever closed, his blade forever sheathed.
And still, the air around him carried a tension only fools dared test, for the unseen was often sharper than the seen, and Norshan's sword, which no one had ever seen.
seven years has past shadrex has grown,into a young boys.
The town is made of cobblestones and is nestled in a rolling valley. The streets are narrow, paved with uneven, worn stones that glint faintly under the sun, smoothed by centuries of footsteps and cartwheels. Each cobblestone is unique—some are dark and polished, while others are pale and rough, giving the paths a textured, patchwork charm. Between the stones, moss creeps in, softening the hard lines and adding bursts of green that hint at nature reclaiming its place.
The buildings lining the streets are tightly packed, mostly two stories tall, with walls of timber and stone. Shadrex headed for the Mira to get wheat, cinnamon, and honey.
Suddenly, he was blocked by Ranc and Ricco. "Hey, where are you going?" Without a word, he stared at both Ricco and Ranc.
"You look tough, but you're just a 'whining, chirping, haggard baby bird,'" they both laughed. "I'm going to rip your coat." Faco interrupted, "What is that? Is that a silver coin? Give me that." Shadrex then spoke in a cold but mild tone, "Give it back." "Are you going to beg?" Shadrex fixed his stare and replied, "Please." Faco lunged at Shadrex, trying to rip his coat. Shadrex stumbled back, prepared his stance, and suddenly started running as Ricco and Faco chased after him. Shadrex thought inwardly, grinding his teeth, "These two annoying idiots won't let me be." As he kept running, he managed to breathe a sigh of relief and silently said, "Thank goodness I didn't have to break their bones; Mother would have killed me," recalling Gladys urging him not to engage in fights.
Scene shift: Gladys advised Shadrex on what he could do. After she left, Kendrick approached and whispered, "Punch, punch, throw them on the roof." Gladys' words echoed, "Honey," as Kendrick stammered, "Um, oh, you're still here."
The scene returns to Shadrex hiding with a smirk and a light smile. He said, "Old man."
From a distance, he saw Norshan walking slowly. Shadrex hurriedly followed him, creeping behind as he watched Norshan. He hid perfectly as Norshan took a right turn, which Shadrex quickly followed. Upon getting there, Norshan vanished without a trace.
The air grew thick, curling like smoke around his ankles. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the town itself measured his resolve. Shadows confused Shadrex in shades he had never seen, and they whispered names he did not know. Somewhere behind him, the ground trembled.
Shadrex turned to see Norshan behind him, watching sharply with his face directly on him
"You shouldn't be here," Norshan said.