The forest grew darker the deeper they went.
Tall trees blocked out most of the light. The ground was uneven, filled with roots and wet leaves. Strange sounds echoed from far away—animals, or something worse.
The boy followed the old man in silence.
He was tired.
Hungry.
And still hurting from the beating earlier.
But he didn't complain.
Not once.
After a long walk, they reached a small clearing.
At the center stood a broken hut made of old wood. It looked like it had been abandoned for years.
"This will do," the old man said.
The boy looked around.
"…you live here?"
"For now."
The old man walked inside as if it was nothing.
The boy hesitated.
Then followed.
Inside, the hut was simple. A mat. A small fire pit. A few tools. Nothing more.
The old man sat down slowly.
"Sit," he said.
The boy stayed standing.
"I don't trust you."
The old man smiled.
"Good. Trust gets people killed."
The boy frowned.
"…then why should I stay?"
The old man looked straight at him.
"Because you want power."
Silence.
The boy slowly sat.
The old man nodded.
"Before anything else," he said, "you need a name."
The boy blinked.
"…a name?"
"You've been called many things," the old man continued. "None of them yours."
The boy looked down.
"…I don't have one."
The old man studied him.
Then he spoke slowly.
"From today… your name is Kael."
The boy repeated it softly.
"…Kael."
It felt strange.
But… right.
"Do you accept it?" the old man asked.
Kael looked up.
"…yes."
"Good," the old man said. "Then listen carefully, Kael."
His voice became serious.
"What I am about to teach you… will hurt."
Kael didn't react.
"It will break your body."
Still no reaction.
"It may even kill you."
Kael's eyes hardened.
"…then I'll survive."
The old man smiled.
"That's what I wanted to hear."
He stood up slowly and walked outside.
"Come."
The First Lesson
The rain had stopped, but the ground was still wet.
The old man picked up a long stick and tossed another one at Kael.
"Attack me."
Kael caught the stick.
"…what?"
"Attack me," the old man repeated.
Kael hesitated.
"…you're old."
The old man laughed.
"Then it should be easy."
Kael stepped forward slowly.
He gripped the stick tightly.
Then—
He swung.
Fast.
The old man moved slightly.
The stick missed completely.
Before Kael could react—
CRACK!
Pain exploded across his back.
The old man had struck him.
Hard.
Kael fell forward, gasping.
"Too slow," the old man said calmly.
Kael gritted his teeth and pushed himself up.
Again.
He attacked.
Again.
He missed.
CRACK!
Another strike.
This time to his leg.
Kael collapsed.
Pain shot through his body.
"Get up," the old man said.
Kael didn't move.
"Get up," the old man repeated.
Still nothing.
Then—
CRACK!
The stick came down again.
Kael screamed.
"GET UP!" the old man shouted.
Something inside Kael snapped.
He forced his body up.
Shaking.
Breathing hard.
Tears mixed with dirt on his face.
"…again," he said.
The old man's eyes sharpened.
"Good."
Hours Passed
The sun began to set.
Then night came.
Still…
The training didn't stop.
Kael attacked again and again.
Each time—
He failed.
Each time—
He was struck down.
His body was covered in bruises.
His hands were bleeding.
His legs trembled.
Finally…
He fell.
And didn't get up.
The old man stood over him.
"…is that all?" he asked.
No answer.
Kael's chest rose slowly.
Barely.
The old man sighed.
Then turned away.
"…weak."
Those words hit harder than the stick.
Kael's fingers twitched.
Weak?
No.
He wasn't weak.
He couldn't be.
Not anymore.
Slowly…
Painfully…
He pushed himself up again.
His body screamed.
His vision blurred.
But he stood.
"I'm… not… weak…" he whispered.
The old man stopped.
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Then prove it."
Kael lifted the stick again.
His grip was shaky.
His breathing uneven.
But his eyes…
Burned.
He charged forward.
This time—
Something changed.
The old man noticed it instantly.
Kael's movement… was faster.
Not by much.
But enough.
The stick came down—
The old man blocked it easily.
But his expression shifted slightly.
"…interesting."
Kael attacked again.
And again.
Faster.
Stronger.
Even through the pain.
Then—
For a split second—
A faint glow appeared in Kael's golden eye.
The air around him felt… heavy.
The old man's smile widened.
"So it begins…"
Kael swung again.
But his body gave out.
He collapsed.
This time… he didn't move.
The Awakening
Hours later…
Kael opened his eyes.
He was inside the hut.
His body was wrapped in rough cloth.
The pain was still there.
But… lighter.
The old man sat nearby, watching him.
"You woke up."
Kael tried to sit.
Failed.
"…what happened?"
"You passed out," the old man said.
Kael looked away.
"…I lost."
The old man shook his head.
"No."
Kael frowned.
"You took your first step," the old man said.
Kael didn't understand.
The old man leaned forward slightly.
"What you felt… at the end," he said. "Did you notice it?"
Kael thought for a moment.
"…it felt… like something inside me was moving."
The old man nodded.
"That is power."
Kael's heart beat faster.
"…power?"
"Not normal power," the old man said. "Something far greater."
He paused.
Then added quietly—
"Something dangerous."
Kael looked at his hands.
"…can I control it?"
The old man smiled faintly.
"Not yet."
Silence filled the hut.
Then Kael asked—
"…who are you?"
The old man leaned back.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then—
"My name is Orin."
Kael repeated it in his mind.
Orin.
"From today," Orin said, "I will train you."
Kael looked at him.
"…why?"
Orin's eyes darkened slightly.
"Because the world you're in…" he said, "is cruel."
A pause.
"And the one you came from…"
His voice lowered.
"…is far worse."
Kael froze.
"…what do you mean?"
Orin stared at him.
Deep.
Like he could see through him.
"You'll find out one day."
Kael clenched his fists.
"…I want to know now."
Orin shook his head.
"You're too weak."
Those words again.
Kael's jaw tightened.
"Then I'll become strong."
Orin smiled.
"That's the spirit."
He stood up.
"Rest," he said. "Tomorrow… the real training begins."
Kael lay back slowly.
His body still hurt.
But his mind was awake.
Racing.
Power.
Strength.
The truth of where he came from.
He didn't understand it yet.
But one thing was clear—
He would never go back to being that helpless boy in the village.
Never again.