The fortress was no school.
It was a place where children were broken apart and reforged.
Every day, Arian woke to the sound of horns echoing through the cliffs, long before sunrise. Every night, he collapsed on the stone floor, aching, bleeding, half-starved.
But little by little, he grew.
Phase One: Survival of the Weakest
The first lesson was hunger.
For one week, the children were fed nothing but scraps bones with traces of meat, stale bread too hard to chew. Whoever was too weak to fight for food wasted away.
Arian's stomach twisted every night, but he learned to chew slowly, to hide pieces under his cloak, and to eat in silence so others wouldn't notice.
One evening, when another boy tried to steal his bread, Arian fought back. They wrestled in the dirt until Khalid's staff cracked across both their backs.
Khalid (growling):
"Food is earned, not stolen like beggars. Next time, fight with purpose or don't fight at all."
The boy whimpered. Arian only clenched his jaw and nodded. He realized then: survival wasn't just about strength. It was about will.
Phase Two: The Body
Once hunger had dulled their weakness, the training of the body began.
They were forced to run up the icy cliffs barefoot, until their soles split open. They climbed walls slick with frost, dangling over abysses where the wind howled like demons.
Every time Arian fell, Khalid was there staff in hand, eyes cold.
Khalid:
"Again. Until your arms break. And when they do, climb with your teeth."
Arian's body ached, but each fall taught him balance. Each bruise taught him where to place his weight. The cliffs stopped being monsters in his eyes and became steps.
By the end of the month, he could scale the frozen walls faster than most of the others.
Phase Three: The Blade
They were given weapons. Not swords of steel, but dull iron knives.
Khalid:
"A dull blade is honest. If you want it sharp, make it so with your hands."
The children were made to sharpen their blades on stone until sparks flew. Their fingers bled, but they learned patience, precision.
Then came combat. No flourishes, no honor—only kill or be killed.
Arian was knocked down again and again. Older trainees broke his lip, bloodied his nose, left him gasping in the dirt.
But Khalid never let him stop.
Khalid (after beating him down):
"Pain teaches faster than comfort. Stand. Again!"
And he did.
Every fall, he stood faster. Every cut, he learned to block better. Until one day, when an older boy lunged at him, Arian's blade struck first pressing against the boy's throat before he even realized.
Khalid's eyes narrowed with something that almost resembled pride.
Khalid (quietly):
"Good. You're learning to kill without hesitation."
Phase Four: The Mind
But the hardest training wasn't of body or blade. It was of the mind.
They were forced into dark caves, alone, for nights on end. No food. No fire. Only the sound of dripping water and their own thoughts.
Many broke. They screamed, clawed at the stone, begged to be released.
Arian sat in silence, hugging his knees. His mind filled with memories of his mother, of fire and loss. The darkness whispered lies to him: "She's gone. You are nothing."
But he refused to answer. Instead, he whispered back:
Arian (to himself):
"I will not die here. I will not die in the dark."
When he emerged days later, his body was weak, but his eyes burned brighter.
Khalid met him at the cave entrance, studying him in silence.
Khalid:
"Good. You faced yourself and did not break. Remember this an assassin who fears his own shadow cannot walk in another's."
Phase Five: Poison and Shadow
Finally came the art of poison.
Every morning, a vial was placed before them—sometimes sweet as honey, sometimes bitter as ash. They were ordered to drink.
Some doses made their stomachs twist in agony. Some made them vomit blood. But slowly, their bodies hardened. Resistance bloomed in their veins like fire.
At night, they were taught silence—how to walk across gravel without a sound, how to blend into the snow, how to disappear into shadow.
Arian practiced until even his breath was quiet.
One night, he crept up behind Khalid and pressed the flat of his blade to his back.
Khalid didn't flinch. He only chuckled.
Khalid (without turning):
"Too loud. If I were truly your enemy, you'd already be dead. Again."
Arian grit his teeth. But instead of frustration, he felt something else. Determination.
The First Spark of Growth
Weeks became months.
The boy who had once cried for his mother now stood straighter, eyes hard as the cliffs. His body bore scars, but also strength.
The children who trained beside him either vanished, taken away after failure or became like husks, surviving but empty.
But Arian… Arian endured.
Not because he loved the life of shadows, but because he clung to a single truth: to live was to defy death. And one day, defiance would bring him the chance for revenge.
"To be Continued"