The morning in the village of Toter was unlike any other. Mist clung to the scorched fields, covering the ground with a thin layer of moisture, mingling with the scent of dry grass and yesterday's ashes, choking the air. Amidst this devastation, Kaelen sat, eyes wide as if trying to take in the entire scene, hands trembling as he held two small tomatoes that had miraculously survived the ruined garden.
He lifted them to the sky, voice filled with shock and despair:
Kaelen: "Impossible!"
Hearing his cry, his grandfather abandoned his meal, moving instinctively with heavy steps until he reached him. He found his grandson kneeling, tears slowly running down his cheeks, silence choking the space between the screams of past and present. He sat beside him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.
Grandfather (calmly): "Sometimes, Kaelen… life hits us with more than we can bear… but it also gives us lessons, if only we are patient."
Kaelen lifted his head, voice dripping with anger and heartbreak:
Kaelen: "Lessons? Who ruins our farm after all our hard work? I'll find them… and make an example of them!"
The grandfather sighed, eyes glimmering with sorrow as he gazed at the gray sky:
Grandfather: "They are the shepherds, my boy. They come at night, taking advantage of the darkness… fearing wolves… or monsters."
Kaelen shook his head stubbornly, a hot tear sliding down his cheek:
Kaelen: "Don't speak of monsters… I'm no longer a child to believe these stories."
The grandfather smiled sadly, as if the words reminded him of burdens long past:
Grandfather: "They do exist… beyond the great walls built by King Ri the First. There, in the heart of the Kingdom of Karndalia, no one dares face the shadows of the night."
Kaelen scowled, striking his fist on the table:
Kaelen: "Karndalia? That kingdom whose fathers neglect their children in the name of duty!"
Silence fell for a moment. The grandfather raised his eyes to his grandson, sorrow glinting in them:
Grandfather: "Do not be harsh on your parents, my boy… they work day and night to keep this village alive."
Kaelen remained silent, broken, until he finally stood, muttering:
Kaelen: "I'll rest a little…"
He entered his room and closed the door behind him, while the grandfather stayed behind, lost in old memories: a small moment from years past, when Kaelen, a child with glowing eyes, begged, "Teach me the ways of the sword, Grandfather!" And the reply was always: "You are still young… soon, my boy."
The grandfather smiled, whispering to himself:
Grandfather: "The time has come, Kaelen…"
He knocked softly, his voice tinged with a strange warmth:
Grandfather: "Are you ready to learn?"
Kaelen opened the door hesitantly, wore a small helmet, and grasped his wooden sword. He saw something in his grandfather's eyes he had never seen before. Raising the sword high, he shouted with childish enthusiasm:
Kaelen: "I'm ready!"
In the front yard, they faced each other. The grandfather assumed a steady stance, while Kaelen smiled stubbornly:
Grandfather: "Before I train you, I must see what you know."
Kaelen (impulsively): "Then get ready… here I come!"
He lunged like an arrow. The grandfather lightly dodged, replying with a swift wooden strike, but Kaelen executed a sudden move, knocking the grandfather's sword from his hand onto the ground.
The grandfather froze, eyes widening in astonishment unlike anything he had seen since his youth.
Grandfather (stunned): "Kaelen… you… you—"
Then he shouted theatrically, with a touch of humor:
Grandfather: "Have you been training with Master Gabriel?!"
Kaelen yelled, sword raised in triumph:
Kaelen: "Of course! Thanks to him, I've defeated you, old man!"
The grandfather's face flushed with anger as he shouted:
Grandfather: "Who are you calling old man, you arrogant brat! Come here!"
Kaelen ran off laughing, the grandfather chasing him with a stick, laughter filling the yard—a rare moment of warmth in a world falling apart around them.
But the moment shattered suddenly with the screams of women outside:
A girl shouted: "They're coming… the heroes!"
The grandfather paused, turning toward the road leading to the village, where people gathered as if welcoming a sacred procession. Cheers rose, the square buzzing with voices.
He turned to inform his grandson… but the place was empty.
Kaelen's wooden sword lay on the ground, the door still ajar.
The grandfather's voice trembled as he called out:
Grandfather: "Kaelen…?"
No one answered.