What Mizan didn't know was that Ark had gone to the cemetery shortly after he left, spending the entire night by his mother's grave. Ark's reason for being there ran deeper than mere sentiment. Before leaving the city, he wanted to investigate the mysterious reaction the grave had triggered in the ring he carried.
Why had the ring suddenly reacted? What was the strange energy that had seeped into it? These questions consumed Ark, circling relentlessly in his mind. Yet, despite his careful inspection under the cold night sky, there was no reaction. The ring remained inert—no energy surged, no distortions warped the space as they had before. The grave before him appeared as unremarkable as any other.
For a fleeting moment, Ark considered digging up the grave to uncover what secrets it might hold. But the memory of the boy who tended to his mother's resting place with such care stopped him. He couldn't bring himself to commit such a cruel act, especially not after he met Mizan.
***
Early the next morning, Mizan awoke before the first light of dawn. The air outside was cool and crisp, carrying a faint bite of winter, though it lacked the harshness found in colder regions. just a subtle chill that clung to the stillness of the predawn hours.
Breathing in the chill morning air and exhaling a faint fleeting fog out of his mouth. Mizan made his way back to the cemetery, darkness still blanketed the streets, the quiet broken only by the occasional rustle of wind through the trees. When he arrived at his mother's grave, a shadowed figure stood there in the dim light. The man didn't turn to acknowledge him.
Before Mizan could speak, Ark's voice cut through the stillness. "So you came…" he asked, his tone calm but firm.
Mizan hesitated for a moment before replying, "Yes. I'm ready."
Ark turned to face him, and Mizan's breath caught. The man before him seemed different from the frail figure he had met two days prior. Though still pale and thin, Ark's complexion had improved noticeably. Even the dark circles under his eyes had begun to fade, and a subtle vitality seemed to radiate from him. Mizan wondered if he was imagining things or if the early morning light was playing tricks on his eyes.
"Pay your respects," Ark said simply. "Then we'll leave."
Mizan nodded, turning to the grave once more. He knelt, lowering his head, and whispered his farewells. As they turned to leave, Mizan cast one last look back at the grave. His chest tightened with an ache of uncertainty. Would he ever return here? Or was this farewell final? Clenching his fists, he made a silent vow: no matter what trials lay ahead, he would overcome them.
The two walked in silence as the first light of dawn crept across the horizon, its gentle warmth driving away the lingering chill of the night. The soft glow illuminated their path, casting long shadows behind them.
Mizan couldn't suppress his curiosity any longer and asked, "Sir, Where are we going?"
"Just call me Ark, I dislike unnecessary formalities."
Mizan was reluctant "T-Then, how about, senior?" He was uncomfortable calling the old man just by 'Ark'.
"Call me whatever you wish." Ark sighed. "We're headed north," he answered Mizan's previous question. "To the High Mountains of Argon you spoke of before." He added.
Mizan froze mid-step. "The High Mountains? But… I told you they're controlled by the Skyguards! We can't just go there!"
*
Ark chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in his tone. "You shouldn't worry about that," he said. "Tell me, have you forgotten why you decided to follow me in the first place? Wasn't it because you wanted to train your ability and become stronger?"
Mizan nodded quickly. "That's right."
Ark's expression shifted, his tone turning serious. "Good. Then your training begins now. And your first task is this: never use your ability again."
Mizan stopped in his tracks, stunned. "What?" he blurted out. "You can't be serious. How am I supposed to train and unlock my ability's potential if I don't use it? That doesn't make any sense!"
Ark continued walking at an easy pace, hands clasped casually behind his back. Mizan followed, questions spilling from his lips, but Ark didn't answer right away. Instead, he spoke slowly and deliberately, as if trying to make a difficult concept clear.
"Your ability has potential, yes," Ark said, "but as things stand, it's doing you more harm than good. Let me ask you something: do you know why, at thirteen years old, your body looks like it belongs to an eight- or nine-year-old?"
Mizan faltered, his steps slowing. "I… I don't know," he admitted reluctantly.
Ark glanced back at him, his gaze sharp. "It's because your ability is stunting your natural growth. Every time you use it, you rob your body of the effort it needs to develop. The body grows stronger and adapts based on activity and routine. If a person is active—running, lifting, working hard—their body becomes strong and energetic. But if someone is lazy, their body grows weak and stiff. Muscles and bones develop through use, especially for someone your age, during a growth spurt."
Ark paused, letting his words sink in, then continued with a smirk. "And what about you? You've depended on your ability to make things weightless ever since you awakened it, haven't you? When was the last time you carried anything without relying on it?"
Mizan's mouth opened, but no words came out.
Ark chuckled mockingly. "Exactly. The heaviest thing you've ever carried might as well be a toothpick. No wonder you're this skinny."
His laughter stung, but Mizan couldn't refute, he stood frozen, Ark's words swirling in his mind. He began to inwardly reflect, trying to recall if it was true that he had never carried anything heavy since awakening his ability. The more he thought about it, the more Ark's words made sense.
Ark continued, his voice calm but firm, as though delivering a lecture. "Your ability doesn't just make things weightless, Mizan. Think about it—if it affects the objects you touch, what makes you think it doesn't affect your own body too? Every time you move, every step you take, while using your ability it subconsciously lightens the load on your muscles, bones, and joints. You've been unknowingly relieving your body of strain, allowing it to move easily, but at the cost of its natural development."
Mizan's eyes widened as Ark's explanation sank in.
"All of this," Ark continued, "is why your body hasn't grown the way it should. It's why your strength hasn't caught up with your age. If you keep going like this, your physique will never reach its full potential. You'll remain stuck in this state, unable to harness the true power your ability holds."
Ark stopped walking and turned to face Mizan directly. His gaze was unwavering. "That's why this is your first task on your journey to becoming strong: from this moment on, never use your ability again. Focus entirely on training your body—push it to its limits and allow it to grow. When you've reached a suitable stage, I'll teach you how to properly train with your ability. Until then, you're forbidden from using it."
Mizan's initial reaction was a mix of shock and doubt. He stared at Ark, questions bubbling in his mind. Could he really do this? Was Ark's guidance the right path? For a fleeting moment, he questioned if he had made a mistake by following him.
But then, as Ark's words echoed in his mind, something began to stir deep within Mizan. It was a faint spark, a flicker of realization. For so long, he had been groping in the dark, unsure of how to move forward. Yet now, Ark's explanation felt like a guiding light, a glimpse of hope at the end of a long, shadowy tunnel.
For the first time in a long while, Mizan felt the embers of determination truly reignite in his chest. He clenched his fists and nodded to himself. This was the beginning of something new—a chance to breakthrough his limitations and truly grow stronger.
"I understand," Mizan finally said, his voice resolute. "I'll do it. I'll listen to you."
Ark gave a faint smile, his expression showing a mix of approval and challenge. "Good," he said. "Then let's get moving. We have a long way to go."
As they resumed their journey, the sunrise painted the horizon in hues of gold and amber. With each step, Mizan felt a growing resolve, his doubts melting away with the warmth of the morning light. This was only the first step of many, but for the first time, he felt ready to face whatever lay ahead.