Many days passed. The sun rose and set over Briarford village, but Kael did not wake. He lay still in the elder's house, covered in white bandages, his breath soft and faint. The villagers whispered when they passed the door.
"Will the boy ever wake?"
"He looks so young… yet his wounds are so deep."
"That black cat is always near him. Strange, isn't it?"
But on this day, Maverick was gone. He had slipped out without telling anyone where he was going.
The village night was calm at first. The moonlight spread across the forest edge, silver and quiet. But suddenly, a scream pierced the silence.
Thwip!
Arrows flew from the dark trees. The guards at the village gates fell one after another, their bodies pierced by black arrows. The watchtower fire was extinguished, and a deadly silence followed.
Then, out of the shadows, came bandits. Dozens of them. Their faces were covered with cloth masks, and their eyes gleamed with greed and cruelty.
"Burn it all!" one shouted.
Torches flew into houses, flames rising high. Women screamed, clutching their children as they ran. Men tried to fight, but most were cut down quickly. Bandits kicked open doors, dragging out villagers, stealing food, gold, and whatever they could find.
The elder stumbled into the street, shouting, "Help! Somebody help us!" His voice cracked, desperate, as he tried to push the bandits back with a staff.
The village turned into a nightmare. Smoke filled the air, roofs collapsed under fire, and the cries of the innocent echoed everywhere.
At that moment, Maverick returned. He appeared at the forest's edge, his fur black and shining under the moon. His golden-red eyes widened when he saw the flames.
"No…" he hissed. "Not now."
Without hesitation, he darted through the chaos, weaving between falling debris and fleeing villagers. His paws hit the ground fast, his tail lashing in urgency.
"I must reach Kael," he growled. "If he does not wake, this village will fall."
He burst into the elder's house, leaping to the boy's side. Kael lay motionless, his face pale, his chest barely rising.
"Forgive me, Kael. I didn't want to use this so soon," Maverick whispered.
From under his fur, he pulled out a glowing crimson stone. Its surface shimmered like molten lava, pulsing with strange energy.
"The Bloodheart Stone…" Maverick muttered. "May it bind you to life."
He pressed the stone gently to Kael's forehead. At once, the stone dissolved into a stream of red light. The energy seeped into Kael's body, running through his veins, burning like fire.
Kael's eyes shot open—bright red, glowing like embers. He gasped, his body arching as though lightning struck him. Then, just as suddenly, the glow faded, his eyes returning to normal.
He looked around in confusion, panting. "Maverick… how am I alive?"
The cat sat back, his ears twitching. "You were on the edge of death. I used the Bloodheart Stone to heal you. But it was your own strength that accepted it. Kael, listen carefully—we are under attack."
Kael blinked, still dazed. "Attack? By who?"
"I think… bandits," Maverick growled. "These villagers saved you, and now it's your turn to save them. Hurry."
Kael's hand trembled as he reached for the sword beside the bed. It felt heavy in his grip, but his heart burned with a strange fire. He stood slowly, each step painful but steady.
Outside, chaos raged. The elder's voice cracked in desperation: "Someone! Please save us!"
Children cried, clutching their mothers. A young girl, the same one who had tried to play with Maverick, sobbed loudly, "Please, God, help us!"
A towering bandit raised his sword above her, his grin cruel. "Shut up, brat!"
But before the blade could fall—
Shhhk!
A sword flew through the air and struck the bandit straight in the chest. He froze in shock, blood spilling down his tunic, before collapsing to the ground.
Everyone turned. The village grew silent.
From the smoke and flames, a figure emerged at the peak of the street. His entire body was wrapped in bandages, the white cloth stained faintly red where his wounds had not yet healed. In his hand, he carried a long sword that gleamed in the firelight.
Step by step, he walked forward, steady and unyielding. Each movement echoed with determination.
The villagers gasped. "It's… it's the boy! The one we found!"
"Impossible, he was half-dead!"
"Look at him… he's walking like a warrior."
The bandits froze as well, their confidence shaken. One spat on the ground. "What is this? A half-dead child?"
But their sneers faltered when they saw his eyes. They were no longer the eyes of a helpless child, but sharp, burning, filled with resolve.
Kael raised his sword, the bandages around his arm unwrapping slightly with the movement. His voice was steady, though soft:
"You dare touch this village… the place that saved my life? Then I'll be your end."
The elder fell to his knees, tears streaming. "He… he stood up. The boy stood up for us."
Women clutched their children, staring in disbelief. The young girl who had cried out moments before now looked at Kael with wide, hopeful eyes.
The bandits growled, anger returning. "Kill him! He's just a boy!"
But Kael took another step forward, his sword gleaming in the firelight. Smoke swirled around him, and the bandages made him look like a warrior risen from the grave.
Maverick appeared at his side, eyes glowing faintly. He spoke only for Kael to hear. "Remember… you survived death. You carry more inside you than they can ever imagine."
Kael nodded once, his grip tightening on the hilt. His body still ached, but his heart was stronger than ever.
The villagers held their breath as Kael faced the bandits alone.
The boy who should have been dead now stood as their shield.
And in that burning night, his legend began.