The fire crackled softly in the small stone hearth, casting dancing shadows on the walls of the cozy cottage. Leor sat cross-legged on the worn rug, his eyes wide with wonder as his grandfather's deep voice filled the room. The old man held a leather-bound book, its cover faded with age but lovingly preserved, as though it held something precious.
"And so, with the power of the pawns, the hero charged into the darkness," his grandfather read, his voice tinged with excitement. "The evil king's reign ended with a single, mighty blow, and the world was saved."
Leor leaned forward, his fingers clutching his knees. "Grandpa, was the hero real? Did someone really save the world with pawns?"
His grandfather chuckled, the lines on his weathered face softening. "Ah, Leor, these are just stories. But sometimes, stories are what the heart needs to believe in something greater."
"But I want to be a hero like him," Leor said, determination flickering in his young, bright eyes. "I'll find pawns and save people too!"
His grandmother, sitting by the spinning wheel, smiled warmly. "The world always needs dreamers like you, Leor. But remember, even heroes start small."
Leor tilted his head back, imagining the stories coming to life—the hero wielding incredible power, pawns at their side, standing against unimaginable evil. The image burned in his heart like the fire on the hearth.
That night, as Leor lay in bed, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling, his dreams carried him to distant lands where he would be the one to save the world. Little did he know, the first steps of his journey would begin sooner than he ever imagined.
The days of peace had been swept away like leaves in a gale. Leor, now sixteen, stood by the window of his small cottage, staring out at the distant smoke rising from beyond the hills. His once-quiet village was now caught in the shadow of a war he didn't understand.
"Leor," his grandmother called softly, her voice trembling. "Come away from the window."
He obeyed, stepping back into the warm glow of the hearth. His grandfather sat at the table, sharpening an old knife with deliberate care. The lines on his face seemed deeper now, etched with the weight of what lay outside.
"Grandpa," Leor began hesitantly, "what's really happening out there? Why are they fighting?"
His grandfather didn't look up. "Sometimes men fight because they don't know any other way to live. It's not something you need to concern yourself with, boy. You just focus on keeping your grandma safe."
The sound of distant shouting made Leor's heart quicken. His grandmother clasped his hand tightly. "Stay inside, no matter what happens," she whispered, her grip firm despite her trembling fingers.
As days passed, the echoes of battle grew louder, and their meager food supply dwindled. By the third day, the pantry shelves were nearly bare.
"I'll go," his grandfather said abruptly, rising from his seat. His voice was resolute. "I'll see if I can find something for us to eat."
"Let me come with you!" Leor pleaded. "I can help!"
"No." His grandfather's voice was stern. "You stay here and protect your grandmother. That's your job now."
Leor clenched his fists but nodded, swallowing his frustration. He watched his grandfather slip out into the cold dusk, carrying only his knife and a burlap sack.
Hours stretched into eternity. The wind howled outside, carrying with it faint sounds of chaos from the village square. Leor and his grandmother huddled by the fire, waiting, hoping.
It was nearing midnight when the door creaked open. Leor jumped to his feet, relief flooding him as his grandfather stepped inside, his face pale and weary. But then Leor froze.
Behind him, shadows moved. Three soldiers, clad in battered armor, stepped into the room, their eyes scanning the cottage with sharp intent.
One of them shoved his grandfather aside, revealing a towering figure behind them—a pawn, its glowing core a cold, unfeeling blue. The light pulsed in its chest as it stood motionless, like a living weapon awaiting orders.
"Nice little place you've got here," one of the soldiers sneered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Plenty warm. Got any food?"
Leor's heart raced as he stepped protectively in front of his grandmother. His grandfather, though tired and unarmed, raised his hands defensively.
"We don't want trouble," his grandfather said calmly.
The soldier laughed. "Trouble? Old man, you've just brought it right to your door."
The pawn's core pulsed brighter, casting an eerie glow over the small room. Leor's eyes darted between the soldiers and the pawn, fear and anger twisting in his chest.
For the first time in his life, he felt utterly powerless.
Leor's fists clenched at his sides as he watched the soldiers ransack their home. His voice, shaky but defiant, broke the tense silence.
"Get away from him!" he shouted, stepping forward.
The soldiers barely glanced at him. One of them laughed, a cruel sound that sent shivers down Leor's spine. "Look at the boy, trying to be brave."
Two soldiers began overturning furniture and rummaging through cabinets, their rough hands scattering plates and knocking over jars. The third soldier pressed his boot onto Grandpa's shoulder, pinning him to the floor.
"Where are you hiding the good stuff, old man?" the soldier demanded, leaning in close.
Leor's grandfather groaned but didn't answer. The soldier pressed down harder, making him wince in pain.
"Stop it!" Leor yelled again, but his voice wavered. His feet felt rooted to the ground, fear coursing through him like ice.
Grandma stepped forward, her frail frame trembling but determined. "Leave him alone!" she pleaded, grabbing at one soldier's arm as he rummaged through a cupboard.
The soldier shoved her aside, and she stumbled against the wall, her breath knocked out of her.
"Grandma!" Leor cried, reaching for her, but his body wouldn't move. His legs refused to obey him.
One of the soldiers lifted a rag from the floor and froze. Beneath it was a wooden hatch, barely concealed.
"Well, well," the soldier muttered, grinning as he knelt to lift it. "What do we have here?"
In that instant, Grandpa roared, a surge of strength and determination overcoming him. He pushed the soldier off and lunged forward, his hand clutching the old knife he had kept hidden.
The blade sank into the soldier's neck. Blood sprayed as the man crumpled to the ground, choking on his own breath.
"Leor!" Grandpa shouted, his voice sharp and commanding. "Take your grandmother and run!"
Leor snapped out of his daze. He rushed to his grandmother, pulling her to her feet.
"Come on, Grandma," he urged, his voice cracking as he guided her toward the door.
Behind him, the remaining soldiers drew their weapons, their faces twisted in rage. Grandpa charged at them with a yell, swinging his knife desperately.
Leor and his grandmother reached the door, but before they could escape, the pawn stirred.
Its glowing blue core pulsed brighter as it turned toward the chaos. For a moment, it stood still, like a statue come to life. Then it moved.
The pawn stepped past Leor and his grandmother, its massive frame dwarfing the room. It entered the fray with unnerving precision, grabbing Grandpa mid-swing.
"NO!" Leor screamed as the pawn hurled Grandpa through the window with inhuman strength. The glass shattered in a deafening crash.
Leor's breath caught as he stared at his grandfather's broken form outside. Blood pooled around him, shards of glass and wood protruding from his body. His chest rose and fell weakly, each breath a struggle.
"Gerhart!" Grandma shrieked, running to his side. She knelt beside him, tears streaming down her face. "Stay with me! Please, stay with me!"
Leor stood frozen in the doorway, unable to move as two soldiers walked past him, their expressions cold and indifferent.
"Take care of it," one of them barked, gesturing to the pawn.
The pawn stepped through the shattered window, its movements deliberate. It loomed over Grandma, who shielded Grandpa with her body.
"Stay away!" she cried, her voice breaking.
The pawn didn't hesitate. It raised a massive arm and struck, sending her flying across the yard. She hit the ground with a sickening thud, motionless.
Leor's world shattered. His vision blurred as his legs finally gave way, dropping him to his knees. He could barely hear the soldiers laughing or see the pawn stepping back toward his home. All he could do was stare at his broken family, his heart pounding with a mix of grief, rage, and helplessness.
Leor's scream echoed into the night, raw and filled with all the fear, anger, and helplessness he felt. He clutched his chest as a strange, warm glow pulsed beneath his shirt. He didn't notice it at first—the faint flicker of light that grew stronger with his rising emotions.
The chaos around him began to shift. The pawn, previously motionless, jerked upright. Its movements were erratic, twitching as if something was overriding its control. The soldiers stopped, turning to the pawn in confusion.
"What's wrong with it?!" one of them shouted.
Before either could react, the pawn lunged forward. Its strength was terrifying, tearing through the soldiers like a storm. Leor could only stare, frozen in place as the world around him devolved into destruction. One soldier was hurled against a tree, his body impaled by jagged branches. The other lay crumpled on the ground, lifeless. The pawn, now kneeling in the dirt, convulsed violently. Its head was missing, as if torn from its neck, leaving behind jagged remnants.
Silence fell.
Leor's ears buzzed, and his breath came in short gasps. His body felt like it was on fire, his chest still faintly glowing. He tried to steady himself, his trembling legs barely able to hold him up.
The silence was broken by a faint, familiar voice. "Leor…"
Leor's eyes widened, and he spun around. "Grandpa!"
He stumbled to where Grandpa lay, blood pooling around him, his breaths shallow and labored.
"No… no, no, no!" Leor cried, falling to his knees beside him.
Grandpa's hand weakly reached up, brushing against Leor's face. His eyes, filled with pride and sorrow, locked onto his grandson. "Leor… listen to me…"
"Grandpa, don't talk! I'll get help—someone—anyone!" Leor begged, tears streaming down his face.
Grandpa shook his head slightly, wincing at the effort. "No… it's too late for me. You… you must live… You're stronger than you think, my boy. So much stronger…"
Leor clutched Grandpa's hand, his sobs wracking his small frame. "I can't do this without you!"
"You can," Grandpa whispered, his voice fading. "You have a spark… something special… Don't waste it… Protect those you love… Stay strong… live…"
With one final breath, Grandpa's hand fell limp in Leor's grasp.
"Grandpa?" Leor whispered, his voice trembling. "Grandpa?!"
No response came.
Leor clung to his grandfather's body, his cries breaking the stillness of the night. The faint glow in his chest dimmed, but the pain in his heart burned brighter than ever.