The man smiled. His eyes, like polished stone, were old and wise, holding a depth that both calmed and unsettled Tala and Kofi. He was not a Viking, nor a warrior like Bjorn. His presence was one of quiet, unassuming power, a stillness that felt more dangerous than a drawn sword.
"I've been waiting," he said, his voice a low, gravelly hum that carried a note of ancient history, like wind through a cave. He wasn't looking at the boys' bruises or their daggers. He was looking at the wooden box between them, its soft pulse a beacon in the dusk.
Tala's hand was still on his dagger, but he didn't draw it. The man had made no sudden moves, and his scent was not one of malice but of ancient trees and deep earth. Kofi, always the more cautious of the two, stepped forward, his eyes narrowed with a mix of suspicion and readiness. "Who are you?" he asked.
The man's smile widened, a network of wrinkles fanning out from his eyes. "My name is Asa." He paused, his gaze sweeping from the box to the Leviathan's body on the shore. "And I know your song."
Tala felt a shock run through him. How could this stranger know the song of their homeland, a melody they had believed was lost to time? The man saw the question in his eyes. He knelt, his movements fluid and silent, and gestured to the box. "That thing you carry, that vessel of pure power, is a song. A rhythm. It sings a tale of fire and water, of earth and air, of a land that was and a power that will be." He looked at them, one by one. "You are its echoes, its final verses. You are the Primal Core, and the world has forgotten what that means."
Tala and Kofi said nothing. They had come to understand the box had power, but they had never heard it spoken of with such knowledge and reverence.
"I can see the raw energy clinging to you, boys," Asa continued, his voice a whisper that was almost swallowed by the sound of the waves. "You have fought and you have survived. But now, you must learn to live. To harness this power, to bend it, to make it yours. The world out there is full of monsters, yes, but they are not the true enemy. The true enemy is the poison that infects the very life force of the world. You must learn to fight the sickness, not just the symptoms."
He rose, his gaze turning to the dark, distant horizon. "I have no ship, and I have no sword. I have no land to call my own, but I do have time, knowledge, and a debt to pay. I will teach you the way of the Aetheria, the way of the core. I will teach you to read the winds and the currents, to write down the history that has been silenced, and to train your bodies until they are as unyielding as rock."
He turned back to them, his eyes serious. "I have been waiting here, on this island of bone and song, for the last of the Primal Ones. I was sent to wait for you. The journey to come is long and fraught with danger, but it is the only one you can take. Your path is not forward. It is back. Back to the heart of the world." He gestured with his chin to the leviathan. "You have taken from the sea. Now you must give back. Will you walk with me?"
The boys looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them. They had spent their lives running, hiding, and fighting for every breath. They had survived on instinct and luck. Now, for the first time, a choice was presented to them.
Kofi, ever the pragmatic one, spoke first. "We have nowhere else to go."
Asa smiled. "Then it is settled. The lessons will begin at dawn. I will teach you the way of the water and the ice."
And as the fire crackled and the stars emerged, the three of them sat in the stillness, a new journey beginning in the quiet moments after a great battle. A journey that would take them from two broken boys and into the men they were meant to be.