The sound of an explosion echoed through the quiet place, resonating among the rocks, creating a training ground filled with tension. Rozer drifted into contemplation, and in his imagination, he soared away to places too far to reach. Thoughts dragged through his mind, leaving a deep trace in his heart, dampening his spirit and forcing him into a prolonged silence, immersed in contemplation.
The dreams haunting him carried an unexpected emotional burden, too intricate to be expressed in words. However, one thing was certain—Rozer felt compelled to unravel the mystery of life's meaning and his own origin.
Intentionally lowering himself, Rozer sprawled on the ground, his breaths heavy, creating a cloud of dust around him. In that moment of emptiness, he realized his knowledge was confined to magic and martial arts, untouched by the history shaping the world he inhabited.
In the silence he embraced, Rozer felt trapped in layers of unsolved mysteries, letting uncertainty and doubt shroud his existence.
"You're incredibly talented," said Sieren, emerging and interrupting Rozer's gaze.
Sieren's face was filled with admiration as he observed the magical explosions created by Rozer around them.
Rozer rose, stating, "I'm not your match, Sieren."
Observing Rozer from head to toe, Sieren remarked, "What's wrong? Your face looks pale; don't overexert yourself."
"Is it true?" Rozer said while touching his own face.
Pointing towards the forest behind Sieren, Rozer suggested, "How about taking a break at the edge of the forest? It's scorching hot here."
With his head bowed under the weight of his thoughts, Rozer nodded resignedly, following Sieren's steps towards the lush tree. As they sat beneath the foliage, Sieren tossed a bottle of water to the tired and pale Rozer. "Drink," he urged.
The sound of the bottle meeting the ground resonated, breaking the silence between them. "Drink it," Sieren repeated, his voice carrying a profound understanding.
Rozer grasped the bottle with trembling hands; his weary eyes reflected a weariness far deeper. As the water flowed down his throat, Rozer felt a revival of life. They sat in silence, gazing into the distance, lost in contemplation. The cold wind whispered through the trees.
Unbuckling his belt, Rozer placed his sword between them. Sieren carefully drew the long sword from its sheath. Gemstones sparkled on the hilt, creating a dazzling display as sunlight illuminated the shining blade. The weapon was not only enchanting in its beauty but also held greatness forged with precision in a distant village. Sieren, though handling it cautiously, seemed uncertain whether the sword had ever felt the heat of true battle.
"So, this is the true form of the first king's sword, beyond my imagination after being reforged."
"Just a tool for killing, nothing special."
"No, this is different," replied Sieren. "This is a magic sword."
"I know. It won't change the inherent nature of that tool."
They scrutinized the sword held by Sieren, and Rozer noticed a sharp glint in his friend's eyes as he gazed at the blade. For a moment, apprehension enveloped Rozer as Sieren stood, nonchalantly wielding the sword.
To the right and to the left, accompanied by a strong gust of wind tousling their hair, Sieren infused magic into the sword, unleashing a powerful magical aura that gleamed in golden hues. He then slashed at a tree trunk, causing it to fall.
Rozer's eyes widened, capturing the skill of Sieren's swordplay, leaving him in awe.
"This is an amazing sword. I envy not being able to draw it in last week's contest," remarked Sieren, sheathing the sword.
"If you want, I don't mind giving it to you."
"No... no... this sword chose you; I can feel it," commented Sieren, handing the sword he held back to its rightful owner.
Rozer accepted it, placing the sword on the ground and said, "Feeling a sword? You're peculiar, Sieren."
"It's the truth; you know it yourself, right? This sword has never been drawn for centuries, and suddenly it can be easily drawn by you. You have to take care of it."
Rozer bowed his head, contemplating Sieren's words, then looked up at the blue sky, choosing not to respond.
"Maybe today is the last day we'll meet."
"Why?"
"Tomorrow, I'm going to the capital to enlist as a royal warrior."
"Mhmm," mumbled Rozer.
Sieren looked at Rozer's sullen face. "Don't you have any aspirations?" he asked.
"What are aspirations?" Rozer inquired.
"Life goals, reasons to fight?"
Staring into Sieren's shining green eyes, Rozer replied, "I don't know yet."
"In that case, it might be better for you to enter the royal academy. There, you'll meet many friends and discover something new."
"Academy?"
"A place to learn various things like magic, martial arts, history, arithmetic, and various fundamental aspects of life. But I'm sure that in a few years, you'll graduate and reach my current position, at the knight's level."
"Is that so..."
"I highly recommend you to join the academy."
"Mhmm," Rozer murmured, then stood, carrying his sword, and strode resolutely into the forest.
Sieren gazed at Rozer's back, "What's wrong?" he asked.
"I want to go home."
"Is that so."
A few steps before entering the forest, Rozer stopped. There were still lingering questions in his mind. He turned back and looked at his friend seriously, "Sieren."
"What?"
"What is the purpose of this life?"
"I don't know. But for life, I will fight," commented Sieren.
"So will I," Rozer shouted, then ran into the forest.
"Let's meet again, Rozer," said Sieren, watching as Rozer disappeared into the distance.