Light filtered through the windows of Sovereign's hut.
He had barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, their faces returned—burned into the canvas of his mind. His brothers. His teacher. Their laughter, their screams, the desperate struggle against the beast, and how close he came to dying. Over and over again.
It was torture.
But as the golden rays of morning rested across his face, they offered some comfort. A reason to rise. To keep going. Sovereign pulled himself from his bedding, body aching. He walked to the large slab of jade in the corner of his room, polished to a perfect sheen. His reflection stared back.
He looked haggard.
Golden eyes dulled by exhaustion. His white hair, normally neat and combed, fell wildly past his neck. Sharp canines peeked from beneath his lips, and his strong, lean form—usually an image of confidence—was marred by deep bruises and unhealed wounds. The regeneration granted by his White Titan bloodline would heal them by tomorrow, but today… he looked like a man barely holding on.
Still, he would not be crushed by sorrow.
He stepped outside.
To the left of the door sat a makeshift basin, fashioned from half a barrel bound with iron rings and perched on triangular wooden stands. He scooped up cold water, splashed his face, and scrubbed down with a cloth made from spider silk. Once freshened up, he went back inside, where the scent of cooked root and grilled meat drifted from the kitchen.
His mother had made breakfast.
They sat together, his father silent, his mother calm but observant. Her warm spring-brown skin glowed in the morning light, hair as dark as tree bark tied behind her head, and her soft golden eyes—dimmed in comparison to her son's—were filled with quiet understanding.
She pulled him into a hug. "How are you my baby?" she whispered.
He sighed. "I'm fine, Mom."
"Don't lie. I see it in your eyes—you didn't sleep at all."
He gave a tired smile. She always saw through him.
They ate quietly. His father, Kraken, said nothing at first. But after the food was done, he set down his bowl and asked:
"So, what do you plan to do now?"
Sovereign didn't hesitate.
"I want to learn how to forge."
Kraken raised an eyebrow. "Then you'll want to visit Master Oron. He's the best forger in the tribe. But you should know—you can't essence-forge until you awaken."
Sovereign's fingers tightened around his bowl.
"I figured. I still want to learn. Isn't there more to forging than just manipulating Vol?"
His father gave a faint grunt of approval. "You're right. You're close to awakening, anyway. I can feel it—your Vol is nearly saturated. When your heart is fully filled, you'll unlock your first node. From there, it's just a matter of circulation."
His mother placed her hand over Sovereign's. "Don't worry, baby. When you return, I'll help you with your Vol Node path. I'll even prepare some potions—gentle ones. They'll help your circulation progress naturally."
He nodded, grateful. "Thanks, Mom."
She smiled. "Mama's always here to help."
With a warm hug and a nod to his father, Sovereign stepped outside and began the walk to Oron's forge.
The Sunsword Tribe's village was alive as always—giants sparring in the courtyard, children climbing the tall stone outposts, elders tending to Vol-infused plants. Sovereign offered quiet greetings, but his expression warned others not to linger.
When he reached the Eternal Flame, he paused.
This ancient, undying fire represented the Titan's will. Once, it filled him with pride. Now, it only reminded him of the flames that took his brothers.
But even so, he pressed on.
He passed through fields of cultivated crops—grain, fruit trees, and patches of Vol herbs shimmering with faint inner light. His destination lay beyond, at the top of a steep hill on the outskirts. The forge couldn't be in the village proper—too much smoke, too much noise.
Master Oron's domain crowned the hill. The forge was a massive structure, mostly stone, reinforced with iron and wood. Six chimneys puffed out black smoke. It stood nearly twenty feet tall, with two thick doors—one for the forge, and one for storage.
Sovereign entered.
Inside, the space was bustling. Apprentices hammered at metal, shaped tools, sharpened spears. The heat was overwhelming, but invigorating. Sovereign didn't stop—he walked directly to the staircase at the back and ascended to the second floor.
There, he found Master Oron.
The old Titan's skin was a metallic bronze, his body burly and scarred. No shirt. Just thick leather pants and a heavy apron reinforced with iron. His hair was tied back, and his arms gleamed with sweat and soot.
Oron turned.
"What do you want, brat?" he barked, voice gravel-thick with a deep, clipped accent. "Speak up."
Sovereign bowed slightly. "I want to learn the forge."
The old master raised an eyebrow.
"You? The one always braggin' about how your fists were stronger than steel? What changed, huh?"
Sovereign told him everything. The hunt. The beast. The sacrifice. How he couldn't even wound the creature until Rhett ripped out one of its fangs and threw to him which he drove through its eye. How he lived because his comrades died.
Oron was quiet.
He saw it—the grief in Sovereign's eyes. But also the fire behind it. A young chief reforging his purpose in the furnace of tragedy.
He finally grunted. "You know you need to be awakened to truly forge, right?"
Sovereign nodded. "I know. But I want to learn the physical side first. Basics. Techniques."
The blacksmith smirked.
"Heh. Good. That's the right attitude. You'll be terrible at first."
He turned toward the window and pointed downstairs.
"Go find Ragnar. You probably saw him when you came in—bronze skin, thick arms, black hair. He's my top apprentice and next in line. He'll teach you the basics. Be patient. And don't break anything."
Sovereign gave a small bow. "Thank you, Master Oron."
The old man grunted. "Don't thank me yet, brat."
Downstairs, Sovereign found Ragnar. The young Titan stood out immediately. His build was nearly equal to Sovereign's in height but wider in muscle. His bronze skin gleamed, and he wore a heavy smithing apron. His eyes were dark and steady.
Sovereign stepped forward.
"From today on, I'll be learning from you. Let's do our best, fellow disciple."
Ragnar blinked, then smiled broadly.
"An honor, Young Chief. Let's get started."
The forge had welcomed its newest disciple.