Several Years Ago — Cinderval Village
The evening sun painted the sky in warm shades of orange and gold. A gentle breeze swept across the training ground, stirring the leaves of the surrounding trees.
In the middle of the clearing, Mason Grace stood bent forward, his hands resting on his knees. Sweat ran down his face as he struggled to catch his breath, his fingers still wrapped around a wooden katana.
He had been training for hours.
Beside him stood his father, Chad Grace, the Black Swordsman. His dark hair moved gently in the breeze, and his dark eyes remained fixed on the setting sun.
"That's enough for today," Chad said.
Mason slowly straightened.
"Finally," he muttered.
Chad glanced at him.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, Father."
"Good. I was beginning to think you wanted another round."
Mason immediately shook his head.
"No, sir!"
Chad chuckled before turning his attention back to the horizon. He extended one hand toward the fading sunlight, allowing its warm rays to fall across his palm.
"You know, Mason, this warmth reminds me of your mother."
Mason's expression changed.
"My mother?"
Chad nodded.
"She had a way of making everyone around her feel warm. Even when things weren't going well, she could make people smile."
He lowered his hand and stared at the horizon for a moment.
"Sometimes, when I watch the sunset, I remember her laugh. I remember the way she spoke and how she treated the people around her."
Mason listened quietly. He had heard stories about his mother before, but something about the way his father spoke made him want to hear more.
After a moment, Chad turned toward him.
"Mason, do you know why I joined Legion Academy?"
"To become stronger?"
"That's part of it."
Chad folded his arms.
"I wanted to become strong enough to protect my family, the people I loved, and the village that raised me. I wanted to make sure that the people who mattered to me could live without being afraid of what might happen to them."
He paused.
"But strength alone isn't enough. You need something worth fighting for. Something that keeps you moving forward when things become difficult."
Chad placed a hand on Mason's shoulder.
"And I see that determination in you."
Mason looked up at him.
"Me?"
"Of course, you."
Chad smiled.
"Ever since you were little, you've talked about joining Legion Academy and becoming the Great Elder of your era. You've never stopped talking about it, even when people laughed at you."
Mason lowered his gaze.
He remembered those people. To them, he was nothing more than a peasant boy from a small village, someone who had no business dreaming of reaching the highest position in the kingdom.
But his father had never treated his dream as a joke.
"People will tell you that you don't belong at Legion Academy because of where you come from," Chad continued. "Some will tell you that becoming the Great Elder is impossible. Others will look at you and decide what you're capable of before you've even had the chance to prove yourself."
His expression grew serious.
"But don't let their opinions determine your future. Your origins don't decide how far you can go. Your determination, your choices, and the effort you put into your dream will speak for you."
Mason stared at his father, absorbing every word.
"Do you really think I can do it?"
Chad answered without hesitation.
"I believe you can."
Mason's eyes widened slightly.
"I've watched you train, Mason. I've seen you struggle, fall, and get back up again. I know how much this dream means to you."
He gave Mason's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
"And if your mother were here, I believe she would have faith in you too."
Mason went quiet.
Chad looked toward the sunset again.
"You're special, son. Sometimes, when I look at you, I see a little of her. You have a determination that reminds me of the person she was."
He turned back toward Mason.
"She would be proud of the person you're becoming."
Mason's throat tightened.
He had never met his mother. He had never heard her voice or seen her face. All he had were the stories people told him and the memories his father carried.
Yet hearing Chad speak about her filled him with a feeling he struggled to understand.
"I'll do it, Father," Mason said.
His voice was quiet, but his eyes were firm.
"I'll become the Great Elder. I'll prove that I can reach the top, no matter what anyone says."
Chad's expression softened into a proud smile.
"That's what I wanted to hear."
The sun slowly disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving the training ground in the fading light.
Neither father nor son knew how deeply that conversation would remain with Mason.
But its words would follow him long after that evening had passed.
That Night
The village had grown quiet. Most of the houses were dark, and the sounds of conversation had gradually faded into the distance.
Behind his house, Mason sat on the wooden steps, his elbows resting on his knees.
He had been thinking about his father's words ever since their training ended.
She would be proud of the person you're becoming.
Mason wiped his cheek.
Another tear followed.
He wasn't crying because he doubted himself. His dream remained as clear as ever.
He was crying because, for a moment, he had imagined what it might have been like to have his mother beside him.
He wanted to know her voice, her smile, and the little things she did that made the people around her happy. He wanted to hear her call his name.
But he couldn't remember any of those things.
He had never known her.
"Why did I have to be the one?" he whispered.
He immediately lowered his head, ashamed of the question even though nobody was there to hear it.
He knew his mother had died during childbirth. His two older sisters had been born without the same tragedy, but after Mason's birth, his mother was gone.
Sometimes, he couldn't stop himself from wondering whether he had somehow caused it.
He knew he hadn't chosen what happened. Still, knowing that didn't always make the question disappear.
Footsteps approached from the side of the house.
Mason quickly wiped his face.
A moment later, Rohan appeared. He walked over and sat beside his friend, raising one leg and resting a hand on his knee.
For a few seconds, he said nothing.
Then he glanced at Mason.
"You know, it's okay to cry."
Mason turned toward him.
"I'm not crying."
"Really?"
"My eyes were watering."
"Of course."
"It's the wind."
Rohan looked around at the still night.
"What wind?"
Mason frowned.
"Can you just leave me alone?"
Rohan chuckled softly.
"All right, all right."
His smile faded slightly as he looked toward the darkened village.
"I heard you and your father talking earlier. I wasn't trying to listen, but I heard what he said about your mother."
Mason looked away.
"Oh."
Rohan remained quiet for a moment before continuing.
"My mother and yours used to cook together almost every morning."
Mason turned back toward him.
"They did?"
"Yeah. They would spend ages in the kitchen, laughing and talking while preparing food."
Rohan shook his head with a faint smile.
"And whenever I tried to help, your mother would chase me out."
He cleared his throat and imitated a stern voice.
"'Go out of the kitchen, Rohan. Children aren't allowed in the kitchen.'"
Mason stared at him.
Rohan laughed.
"She said it almost every time! It didn't matter whether I wanted to carry something or help prepare the food. She always sent me away."
His expression softened.
"My mother was older than yours, but they treated each other like sisters. They were close."
Mason tried to imagine the scene: his mother and Rohan's mother cooking together, laughing in the kitchen while a younger Rohan attempted to help.
For a moment, he could almost imagine the sound of their laughter.
Then the thought struck him again.
He still couldn't picture his mother's face.
A small laugh escaped his lips, but it quickly became tangled with tears.
Rohan turned toward him, startled.
"Hey, I didn't mean to upset you."
Mason shook his head.
"It's not your fault."
He wiped his face, trying to compose himself.
"It's just… I can't even imagine what she looked like."
Rohan fell silent.
Mason stared at his hands.
"She died when I was born. My sisters were born, and everything was fine. But after I was born, she died."
His voice grew quieter.
"Sometimes, I wonder if it was because of me. If I hadn't been born, maybe she would still be here."
Rohan's expression became serious.
"Mason, listen to me."
Mason didn't look up.
"Your mother's death wasn't your fault. You were a child. You didn't choose what happened, and you didn't cause it simply by being born."
Rohan placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"You can't blame yourself for something you had no control over."
Mason remained silent.
"I know you wish you could have met her," Rohan continued. "I can't pretend to know exactly how that feels. But you don't have to spend your life punishing yourself for something that wasn't your fault."
Mason slowly raised his head.
Rohan gave him a small, reassuring smile.
"And from what your father told you, I think your mother would want you to keep moving forward."
He looked toward the village.
"You have a dream, Mason. You want to become the Great Elder. You want to prove that someone from this village can reach the top."
Rohan turned back to him.
"Then do it. Become the Great Elder. Make your father proud. Make your sisters proud. Make this village proud."
He squeezed Mason's shoulder.
"I believe in you, Mason. I trust you. I know you can do it."
Mason looked at his friend.
The sadness was still there. Rohan's words couldn't give him back the mother he had never known, and they couldn't answer every question that troubled him.
But they reminded him of something important.
He wasn't alone.
Mason wiped his face and took a deep breath before standing.
Rohan looked up at him.
"What are you doing?"
Mason turned toward the village, his expression gradually changing from sadness to determination.
"All right, then, Rohan."
He looked down at his friend.
"Here it comes."
Rohan smiled.
"Let me hear it."
Mason clenched his fist.
"I'm going to become the Great Elder of my era!"
His voice rang through the quiet night.
"And nothing less!"
Rohan burst into laughter.
"That's more like it!"
Mason laughed too, and for the first time that night, his smile came naturally.
Beneath the stars, the two friends stood together, sharing a moment neither would easily forget.
Mason had made a promise to himself.
And Rohan had made it clear that he believed in him.
Neither intended to forget those words.
Present Day — Legion Academy Tournament
The roar of the crowd filled the coliseum.
Two young boys stood facing each other on the battlefield.
Mason Grace.
Caleb Veyr Draven.
Caleb's icy-blue eyes remained fixed on Mason, his expression composed and confident.
Mason, however, briefly lowered his gaze to the katana in his hands.
His father's weapon.
He tightened his grip around its black handle.
For an instant, the noise of the coliseum seemed to fade into the background.
He remembered Chad's words.
I believe you can.
He remembered Rohan's encouragement.
I believe in you, Mason. I trust you.
He thought of Becca and the people who had become part of his life.
Then his thoughts returned to his mother.
He had never seen her face. He couldn't remember her smile or claim to know what she would say if she were standing before him.
But he wished she could see him now.
Father. Mother. Rohan. Becca.Gem
Mason raised his eyes toward Caleb.
Watch me.
He wasn't going to let his origins define him. He wasn't going to abandon his dream because other people thought it was impossible.
He would keep moving forward.
And one day, he would stand at the very top.
Mason shifted his feet and bent his knees slightly. He held the katana with both hands, bringing it toward his right side, its blade pointing forward at his opponent.
His stance settled.
His gaze sharpened.
Across from him, Caleb's expression hardened as he prepared himself.
The crowd's excitement rose around them, but Mason heard none of it.
All he could think about was the promise he had made years ago beneath the night sky.
He tightened his grip one final time.
"Watch me," Mason declared. "Watch me as I become the Great Elder, of my era."
For a brief moment, the battlefield seemed to stand still.
Mason held his stance, his eyes fixed on Caleb.
The words had been spoken.
The promise had been made.
And now, the moment he had worked so hard for was finally before him.
To be continued…