One day, fifteen-year-old Rivaan was exploring the jungle, moving swiftly through the trees. He was drawn by the distant clash of metal — the unmistakable sound of warriors training.
Then he saw them.
A group of warriors, their armor gleaming in the shafts of sunlight breaking through the dense canopy. They moved with practiced grace, laughing and sharing stories of battles Rivaan had only ever imagined.
One tall man, marked by a scar over his right eye, noticed him. Sheathing his sword, he approached the boy with a smirk.
"You've been watching the warriors," he said. "Thinking of becoming one yourself?"
Rivaan hesitated, then nodded. "I want to be strong like you."
The man chuckled, surprised. "Strength isn't just about swinging swords. It's about what you fight for."
He ruffled Rivaan's hair. "What's your name?"
"Rivaan."
The warrior smiled. "I'm Kael. Maybe one day I'll see you in battle."
Before leaving, Rivaan asked eagerly, "Will you teach me how to fight?"
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Can you do whatever it takes to be strong?"
With courage and confidence, Rivaan replied, "Yes."
Kael smiled. "Then come find me tomorrow."
From that day forward, Rivaan visited Kael every day. They became friends — and for Rivaan, Kael became a mentor.
One afternoon, Rivaan rushed home to find his grandfather seated by the fireplace, eyes lost in the flickering flames.
"Grandfather, I want to become a warrior!" Rivaan declared.
The old man's expression darkened. He shook his head. "No, Rivaan. You are not meant for battle."
"But I—"
"You are a Jaeger. That is your fate," Virat said, his voice stern and final.
Rivaan clenched his fists. "And what if I don't want to be a Jaeger?"
His grandfather sighed deeply. "You'll understand with time."
Two years passed. Rivaan trained in secret with Kael in the forest, growing stronger with each passing day.
On his seventeenth birthday, the village gathered to celebrate. Fire torches burned bright, laughter echoed through the air.
One by one, villagers stepped forward to offer gifts — tokens of gratitude for Rivaan's kindness and help.
Kael watched as Rivaan helped a blacksmith carry heavy iron, ran errands for a shopkeeper who couldn't walk, and was adored by children and trusted by animals alike.
"You're too kind for your own good, Rivaan," Kael said with a knowing smile.
Rivaan grinned. "Someone has to be."
The blacksmith gifted him a dagger, the healer a rare herb, and the children brought him flowers.
But Rivaan's thoughts remained on Kael.
The day before, when Rivaan met Kael as usual, something was different.
Kael had come to say goodbye.
"I'm leaving soon," he said quietly.
Rivaan's heart sank. "Take me with you!"
Kael chuckled. "Not yet. But here."
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small metallic relic — golden and shaped like a wing.
"This will let you fly," Kael said, placing it in Rivaan's palm. "One day, when you find me again, return it — but only if you have something greater to offer in exchange."
Rivaan gripped the relic tightly. "I swear I will."
Kael smiled. "Then I'll be waiting."