The Wall wasn't even a wall.
Not bricks, not stone. It was the sky itself, bent wrong. A dome of pale white light stretched from horizon to horizon, wrapping the whole damn world like a giant glass bowl. Every village kid grew up staring at it, wondering if it would crack, wondering if the gods had just put them inside some cage for fun.
At night, it glittered like stars. Pretty, sure. But Kael never thought of it as pretty. To him it looked like jail bars dressed up in silk.
He sat on the cliff above the ocean, legs dangling, boots dripping mud down the rock. The waves smashed hard against the cliff face, spraying cold salt water on him, but he didn't move. His eyes were on where the barrier cut the sea. It sliced the horizon in two ocean, then that blinding curve of light stabbing down into the water like a blade. No ship had ever crossed. No bird had flown through. Everything beyond was just whispers.
Kael rubbed at his jaw, smirking to himself. "If you're alive out there, old man, you're probably drinking without me. Figures."
He didn't laugh, not really. The words hung sour in his mouth. His father had vanished beyond the Wall when Kael was five. No body, no grave, just stories. And Kael had lived thirteen years since then with the same thought clawing in his head: You don't vanish into nothing. You're out there. You better be.
Footsteps crunched behind him. He didn't turn.
"Here again," Lyra's voice snapped. She always sounded like she was scolding him, whether she meant to or not.
Kael glanced over his shoulder. Lyra stood with her arms crossed, short dark hair blowing wild in the sea breeze. Hard eyes, sharp posture strong enough that most people never noticed the soft way her hands shook when she thought no one was looking.
Behind her came Darius, broad-shouldered, face set like stone, silent as usual. His whole aura screamed: I'd rather be training than standing here watching you mope.
And last, dragging his boots dramatically, came Rian. Of course. His grin was already wide, his gaze already on Lyra.
"Tell me he hasn't been staring at the Wall all morning again," Rian said, rolling his eyes. "Kael, man, if you're gonna jump, at least wait until I can bet on it."
Kael smirked, finally turning back to them. "Wouldn't be much of a bet. Odds are high I survive just to piss you off."
Lyra pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're both idiots."
"Correction," Rian said, leaning closer to her with that cocky tilt of his head. "I'm a charming idiot. You love me for it."
Lyra's glare could've frozen lava. "I'd rather love a fish."
"Ouch." Rian clutched his chest like she'd stabbed him. "Cold. You'll regret it when I'm rich and famous."
Kael chuckled under his breath. "Rich and famous for what? Catching diseases from every girl in the Capital?"
"Hey." Rian wagged a finger. "I'll have you know, the Discoverers are the most paid men in the world. Treasures, contracts, women lining up just to look at you. All I need is one big haul and bam, mansion life."
Darius finally spoke, his tone like gravel. "None of you will live long if you treat this like a joke."
Kael stretched out, yawning. "And here comes the sermon."
Rian grinned. "Yes, Father Darius, guide us."
Darius ignored them both. He looked out at the barrier, eyes burning in that scary, quiet way. "I'll make it to the Capital. I'll stand among the noble Discoverers. And I'll use that power to keep monsters from ever touching our villages again. That's not a dream. That's duty."
A silence followed. Heavy. They didn't laugh at that.
Lyra broke it. She straightened her back and lifted her chin. "Then I'll be known. A name people can't ignore. A Discoverer they'll remember long after I'm gone."
Rian raised his hand like he was toasting. "I already told you mine: rich, famous, adored by women. But hey, I'll also throw in a couple of monster heads for charity."
Kael let the waves crash before he spoke. "All noble. All grand." He smirked, but his eyes flicked back to the barrier. "Me? I just want to find my old man. He's not dead. Not until I see his bones. And when I do… maybe I'll punch him for making me wait this long."
Rian snorted. "Or maybe he got eaten. Would explain why he never came back. Saves you the trouble of punching him, right?"
The words stung sharper than Rian probably meant. Kael's smirk didn't falter, though. "If something ate him, I'll find it. Then I'll feed it you."
Rian laughed loud, Lyra rolled her eyes, and even Darius allowed the faintest twitch of a smirk.
That was them. Not friends, not really. More like knives that had gotten used to scraping against each other. Four orphans raised in the same dirt orphanage, no soft lullabies, no warm families. They'd learned insults before they'd learned kindness. But for all the bruises and curses, they never drifted apart. Not completely.
They turned from the cliff and started back down the rocky path.
The village spread out below crooked huts, worn nets hanging to dry, the smell of fish guts and smoke heavy in the air. Children splashed barefoot in puddles, old women haggled over scraps, and the sea wind carried everything salty and sour right into your nose. Most people here would never leave. Not because they couldn't, but because they didn't dare dream of more.
As they passed along the narrow street, Rian suddenly slowed. His grin faltered for half a second.
Serene.
She was crouched near the side of a hut, feeding scraps to a cluster of stray cats. Long hair fell over her face, and when she tucked it behind her ear, the sunlight hit her features just right. She noticed them... noticed Rian and froze. Her cheeks went red instantly. She stood, fumbled with the basket in her hands, and ran without a word, the cats scattering around her.
Rian's grin returned, but softer, almost guilty. "Well, I'll be damned. Still can't look at me."
Kael smirked. "Guess breaking her heart worked better than you thought."
Lyra didn't bother to hide her disgust. "You're disgusting."
Rian shrugged. "I told her I'm not the marrying kind. She's better off without me."
But his eyes lingered where Serene had disappeared. And none of them called him out for the lie they all recognized. They knew why he'd said no, why he kept women at arm's length. Money. Security. A future where his children didn't starve like he had. But Rian would rather die than say it out loud.
They kept walking until the school came into view, just a squat wooden house with a sand yard out front, patched together like everything else in the village. Nothing grand. But inside, the old man waited, ready to beat something into their skulls.
And whether they liked it or not, the real lessons were about to start.