The world was heading towards chaos. A turbulent era indeed. Bandits running around, rampant wars and famines across. In such turbulent times, peace was the most desired, the most needed, and the most coveted.

Faraway, in a distant village where the flames of war hadn't touched it nor the screams of the dead could be heard, the village was peaceful. The village of Hanamura is nestled in the lush Bekei valley, surrounded by rolling hills and overlooked by the mighty Kunlung mountains. Cobblestone paths weaved through rows of wooden houses with sloping, thatched roofs. Fields of rice paddies stretched to the horizon, glistening under the sun, while cherry blossom trees painted the landscape with shades of pink. Children's laughter often filled the air as they played by the village square, where an statue stood as a testament to the village's history. The statue is said to be of the legendary warrior Kunlung, who founded the village. The villagers lived simple lives, tending to crops, weaving, and trading at the small market that buzzed with voices at dawn and dusk. 

The village, having a small population of a few hundred, was a peaceful place. The village chief and the villagers felt the flames of war approaching as neighboring villages had been pillaged by bandits. Later that evening, the village chief, Saifun, called for a council meeting. Shinji father's Renji was a council member and recommended that they take quick action by calling the guards from nearby towns. Saiifun and the other council member agreed, and they quickly sent an envoy requesting for protection. That night, when Renji was heading back from the village office, he felt a cold wind hit him. He felt a premonition of something unpleasant occurring. He rushed back to tell his family about the uneasy feeling plaguing him . Shinji was fast asleep. He said to his wife Sakura to wake Shinji up and get ready to evacuate. He then alarmed the guards and headed off.

As the night struck bandits came for scavenging, destroying, and pillaging. Renji was right about something unpleasant occurring. The bandits with huge numbers hoarded towards the village. Renji had told Sakura to escape while he took a sword to go fight. Bandit leader Temujin was a cruel and unforgiving man. Raping women, killing men, and enslaving children was his past time. The bandits showed no mercy, and the village got burned to the ground. Shinji's mother took Shinji and ran away from there. Shinji was clueless on what was happening as he was half asleep, and just when he got some sense, an arrow hit his mother's back, followed by another one. Shinji's mother shielded him while he made an escape. Shinji, the sole survivor of the onslaught, ran away; the only words he could remember were from his mother, "SURVIVE."

Such cruel words were too much to bear for a mere 10-year-old child. Shinji ran faraway with an arrow that struck him and finally shut his eyes. He fell down from a cliff but got saved due to a branch holding him. His body battered and bruised. Shinji woke up in a small hut in the mountains after several days. The hermit who had taken care of Shinji greeted him. ' Good morning, child, how was your long slumber? asked the hermit jokingly.

The hermit had a calm aura surrounding him. The hermit was a tall, elderly man with a long, white beard and sharp, knowing eyes who moved with calm purpose. Clad in patched robes of yellow and red, he exuded wisdom.

Shinji was speechless as the memories of his family's death were still like a fresh wound, deep and burning. The hermit analyzed the situation and placed Shinji's food on the table beside him. Shinji still didn't speak. The hermit went to the nearby town to do some business. Before the trip, he told the child to not leave the vicinity as his injuries were still fresh. He asked the child's name, but all he got was silence. With this, the hermit left.

Shinji stared at the wall, clouded with despair and grief. The child was truly hopeless. After staring at the walls for several hours, Shinji got up and headed out . The hut was on a cliffside. Shinji felt the cold and fresh breeze hitting him. With dead eyes that spoke of nothing but wanting freedom. Shinji wanted to be free, free from the pain and suffering of the world. Shinji walked towards the cliff and jumped. The hermit returning from his business saw Shinji and rushed and jumped after him. Fate had other plans for Shinji, as he got saved by a wooden branch in the cliff big enough to hold him. The hermit, with his swift action, got Shinji and bought him back. Shinji had reopened his wounds, and the hermit tended to him.

The hermit said, "Why did you do that? Why do you want to die?"

Shinji replied for the first time, "I wanted to be free."

The hermit paused for a while and said, You may have lost meaning, but it's never late to create a meaning. A meaning for yourself is a meaning for your existence. 

Shinji replied, "There is no salvation for me here."

"A small child speaking of salvation—how unfitting, yet how telling of our times. Remember, child, a smooth sea never made a skilled sailor. Life is not simply sunshine and rainbows; it is tempest, wild, and unrelenting. There will be days when the sun is overcome by dark clouds, when the bright days come to a halt, and when the weight of the storm feels unbearable, and hope seems a fragile thread on the brink of snapping. Yet, it is precisely in those very moments that one must find the strength to persevere, to push forward against fate. Even the longest, most bitter nights give way to dawn, and the fiercest storms must eventually yield to calm. It is in weathering these trials that you will find not just survival but the growth of your spirit. Strength comes not from the ease of days but from the resolve to stand tall through the worst of them." replied the hermit.

Shinji flustered to such an interesting take on life. Shinji asked the hermit, "Is there hope for me? "

The monk replied with a lofty smile, "Of course. Problems are a part of life; solving them is an art of life."

He added, "Now eat your food and rejuvenate as fast as you can."

Shinji thanked the monk for his insight and ate the porridge that the monk had made. 

The monk said to Shinji, "Would you be interested in being my disciple?"

Shinji replied with enthusiasm, "Sure."

The monk patted Shinji and asked his name.

"My name is Shinji. Shinji Ren." replied Shinji with a lofty smile.

"And as the mountain shadows stretched into the night, the first bit of resilience took root in Shinji's soul."