The wind blew softly through the
branches of the old oak tree at the edge of the capital city of Mahoken. The leaves rustled lazily, and the petals of a nearby cherry tree danced in the air like a melancholic waltz. The young man stood leaning against the trunk of the tree, his back straight, but his gaze fallen. He was thinking about his latest failure. Another one. Although he had trained for months, he still couldn't control even the simplest spells.
The last time he had tried, alongside his former master, the generated explosion had almost killed them both. He smiled bitterly. He remembered the old man's words: — "You're a public menace with that wild mana of yours. You'd better stick to the sword... or, even better, to gardening." That's how he had come to focus all his will on physical training. But the truth was, he didn't shine there either. His body was weak, his hands trembled slightly, and the sword always felt too heavy for him
. A deep sigh escaped his lips. He raised his gaze to the blue and infinite sky, perhaps searching for an explanation. Or perhaps just a moment of peace. Then he heard the voice
. — "Excuse me... is the city of Mahoken near?" A feminine voice, gentle and clear, like a breeze on a summer day. He startled. He turned his head with a slight irritation in his eyes, annoyed by the interruption of his thoughts. But his expression changed abruptly. Standing before him was a girl with silver hair and pink eyes, as intense as the cherry blossoms that fell around them. She smiled delicately, and the green cloak that covered her gave the impression that she was part of the landscape. Under the cloak, a light, pink lace dress was visible, perfect for the summer heat.
The young man swallowed hard. — "You still have about... seven kilometers. But I don't recommend it." — "Why?" she asked, approaching slightly. "Is something wrong?" He avoided her gaze, his tone heavy. — "It's a city like any other. Disappointing. If you're looking for something special... you won't find it there." The girl looked at him for a few seconds.
His gloomy face caught her attention. And his voice... full of resignation. — "What happened to you?" she asked gently. — "I failed. Too many times. I can't even control simple spells... and with the sword... I trip over my own shadow." — "...My body is weak. Maybe I wasn't born for this." Ashamed, he lowered his gaze to his hands. She giggled softly. — "You have a strong mana. I can feel it... it floats around you, moves the air, the petals..." — "It's just chaotic. You haven't learned to listen to it." The young man frowned. — "What do you mean, listen to it?" — "Mana flows through you like water. If you agitate yourself, it gets murky. If you are calm... you can guide it. Try. Close your eyes. Choose a point in your palm and imagine the mana flowing through that spot, gently, like a smooth stream."
Hesitantly, the young man held out his hand. He took a deep breath. He concentrated. A short hiss. Then — ZAAAM! An invisible blade of air sliced through the space, severing the trunk of a tree ten meters away. Both froze. — "That... wasn't intentional," he whispered. — "Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. But... you did it. Now you know you can."
She looked at him with a mixture of respect and curiosity. She approached him, searching his eyes. — "Why did you choose the sword?" — "I want to become a knight. To become worthy." — "Why do you want to be strong?" He was silent for a moment. Then: — "Because I don't want to be weak anymore. I've lived with regrets, with the feeling that I'm useless. I want to protect. To be someone who can make a difference." — "Someone once told me: true strength only appears when you choose to protect the weaknesses of others... That has stayed with me." His gaze was lost, but in his eyes something was burning: a silent, stubborn flame. She smiled again. — "Then don't stop. Continue your path. Build that future." They both laughed, as if they had known each other for a lifetime
. — "But tell me, why are you wearing such a thick cloak in this weather?" — "It's just a precaution," she replied, pulling the hood slightly over her head. "Some people get scared of... the way I look." — "I'm sure they're just jealous." — "Heh... maybe." She waved at him and started on her way. He watched her for a long time. — Maybe we'll meet again... and then I'll ask for your name. A few hours later, in the heart of the capital, the young man was walking towards the center, hoping he would see the girl from under the cherry tree again. But his steps were stopped by loud noises coming from a dark alley.
Approaching, he saw a massive man, with a hideous smile, dragging two girls into the darkness. He was speaking filthily to them. He had terrible intentions. — "Stop," said the young man, his voice trembling. "Leave them alone." — "What did you say, you little mosquito?" asked the man, turning around with heavy and threatening steps
. The young man was terrified. But the memory of the promise made under the cherry tree came back to him. He took a deep breath. From fear, determination was born. ZACK — his sword severed the attacker's Achilles tendon, then a lightning-fast punch knocked him to the ground. The massive body collapsed inert. One of the girls clung to him, crying. She had hair the color of the sunset. He gently stroked her, wiping her tears with his dusty cloak. — "It's okay now..." But the other one... Looking up, he saw something he would never forget. The second girl, with empty eyes, was hitting the man's head with a stone. Without stopping.
Without emotion. When he approached, it was too late. She had disappeared into the night, leaving behind only a mutilated corpse and a dark stain on his soul. He covered the eyes of the girl who was still clinging to him. His gaze was lost in the darkness. — So ends my first day as a future knight... I wonder... what would you have done, girl from under the cherry tree?