Theoron
"We have a deal"
Without much hesitation, I consented, prioritizing what needed to be done.
"If you ever break the deal, I'll personally slit your throat," he warned, his tone disturbingly cheerful.
It felt as though two opposing spirits clashed for control inside him—one cloaked in shadows, the other touched by faint moonlight. Every sudden shift left me disoriented, sensing the volatile depths lurking beneath his surface.
"Well, now that our conversation is finished, I'll be going," he announced.
In one swift, unexpected motion, he hurled the tomes at me. Their hard covers smacked against my face with a solid thud. The heavy volumes teetered on the bridge of my nose. Before I could even express my outrage, he vanished into the darkness, leaving an eerie silence in his wake.
"Wait! When and where do I meet you for the training?" I shouted, but he had already disappeared.
"And who are you?"
No answer came.
After that strange encounter, I made my way back, carrying the books through the dark forest.
"Young Lord! Where have you been?" Dawson came running toward the entrance, visibly worried. Mrs. Rilde wasn't far behind, sharing the same concerned expression. They must have feared I had done something reckless again.
"Don't worry, I just went for a walk," I reassured them. "I'm sorry for causing you such concern."
I couldn't tell them about the strange man who made me chase him into the woods in the middle of the night. That would only alarm them further.
"Young Lord, please promise us you'll prioritize your health," Dawson begged.
"I will," I replied, giving him a reassuring smile.
Even though an abyss of emptiness exists within me, they've tirelessly worked to fill the void left by my brother's death. Their unwavering care and affection have been a beacon of hope, guiding me through the darkness.
Their constant efforts have given me a reason to wake up each morning and find comfort in their presence. I pledge to repay their devotion by building a strength that will ease their concerns.
I promise to rise above the sorrow, to become resilient and dependable—a source of hope for those who stood by me during the darkest times.
"Ahhhh!" I woke up to a cold splash on my face. There he was, holding a bucket in his right hand, ruining what little sleep I had managed to get.
When did he sneak into my room?
My face twisted in irritation, a low, menacing growl rumbling from deep within my throat. Drenched from head to toe, with water dripping from my soaked hair like a relentless autumn rainstorm, I was in no mood for his nonsense.
The morning air still carried a chill, and the icy droplets clinging to my skin seemed to seep straight into my bones. The last thing I wanted was this rude awakening, courtesy of his childish antics.
"Rise and shine, sweetheart, it's time to party."
I wiped the water off my face as I dragged myself out of bed, silently cursing him for the mess he'd made.
Before setting off on this dangerous journey, I wrote a heartfelt letter to my loved ones, pouring my thoughts and emotions onto the page. The weight of leaving settled heavily on my shoulders, as the path ahead, hinted at by my enigmatic guide, would likely keep me from home for over a year.
In the letter, I wrote:
Dear Dawson and Mrs. Rilde,
I'm setting out on journey to grow and become better. I can't share much right now, but I promise I'll return stronger.
We'll meet again soon. Please look after yourself and don't worry about my safety.
With gratitude and love,
Theoron.
Although my heart longed to say goodbye in person, I hesitated, unwilling to disturb their peaceful sleep. The night still reigned outside, and I couldn't bring myself to wake them from their dreams, no matter how pressing my departure felt.
Offering a silent prayer, I left the letter where they would find it, trusting the morning light would bring them comfort through my words. Then, with a deep breath, I stepped into the unknown, following the whims of my mysterious companion.
"Hey, masked guy! You still haven't told me your name."
I pointed my finger at him, this stranger whose identity remained a mystery to me.
"You haven't told me yours either," he said with a casual shrug.
"Heh! You already know who I am. But I don't know you—"
"You can call me Ion," he interrupted.
"Ion. That's it?"
I asked, hoping for a last name, wanting to figure out which clan he belonged to. But it seemed he wasn't eager to share.
As we embarked on our difficult journey, Ion led the way, guiding us through a variety of landscapes. We crossed vast grasslands, where green blades of grass swayed softly in the wind, releasing sweet, earthy aromas into the air.
Next, we entered thick groves of bushes, their tangled branches and vibrant leaves forming an impenetrable curtain. The sounds of crunching leaves and snapping twigs underfoot provided a symphony of background noise.
As we ascended, towering trees came into view, their massive trunks rising like giants from the ground. The canopy above allowed only filtered sunlight through, casting fragmented shadows on the forest floor.
The air grew cooler, filled with the scent of pine and damp earth. We followed a winding trail that snaked through rocky outcrops and cascading waterfalls.
With each step, the terrain became more treacherous. The sounds of the forest faded into the wind's rustling and the distant echo of falling stones.
As we moved along the trail, Ion occasionally interrupted the silence with random comments.
"Have you ever tried pairing pumpkin with apple?" he'd ask, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
His mind seemed like a labyrinth of whimsical ideas, and he would share whatever came to him. One moment, he'd point out a rare bird; the next, he'd philosophize about the mysteries of the universe.
During one river crossing, he decided to teach me how to fish. With steady hands, he demonstrated the fine art of casting a line and waiting patiently for a bite.
Sadly, my attempts brought nothing but splashes and failure. Undeterred, he made me a deal: he'd share his catch with me if I could make him laugh.
I unleashed a series of bad dad jokes, the kind my brother used to tell.
"Why did the banana go to the doctor?" I began.
Curiously, he asked, "Why?"
"It wasn't peeling well."
He burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. So that worked? Is he really this easy to amuse? I wondered as he handed me one of his fish. I never thought my brother's terrible jokes would amuse anyone, let alone someone like him.
Each time I asked about how much longer we had to travel, Ion gave the same answer: "We're almost there." It became a refrain, repeated with calm certainty.
As the sun set, surrendering to twilight, we continued through the gathering darkness. The moon, now a thin crescent, cast a soft glow on our path.
Shadows swirled around us like sentinels keeping watch over the secrets of the mountains. The only sounds were the crunch of gravel beneath our boots and the distant calls of nocturnal animals.
Our world shrank to the moonlit path before us. Trees loomed like dark silhouettes, their branches etched against the sky like ink drawings on a starry canvas.
Ion's calm reassurance echoed in the night air: "We're almost there." I began to wonder if his promise was real or simply meant to soothe my tired spirit.
"We've arrived."
He suddenly stopped and dropped to the ground.
Exhausted, we lay on the forest floor, a blanket of soft moss and leaves cushioning our tired bodies. The towering trees around us seemed like guardians of the night, their enormous trunks supporting the starry sky above.
Above us, the heavens stretched out, a sea of glittering stars scattered across the dark expanse. The crescent moon cast an otherworldly glow, outlining the intricate web of branches against the night.
The night air hummed with the soft chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves, creating a peaceful symphony that lulled us into rest. The smell of damp earth and pine needles wrapped around us, grounding us in the ancient rhythm of the forest.
As we lay there, the trees seemed to close in protectively, their branches intertwining above us like a shelter. The stars shone brighter, their light filtering through the canopy and casting faint shadows across our faces.
In that sacred space, time ceased to exist. The world shrank to the sound of our breathing, the pulse of the forest, and the song of the stars. We were mere threads in the intricate fabric of nature, woven into the eternal story of the night.
Finally, we had arrived.
"Where do we sleep?"
I asked, glancing over at him. "You're already snoring!"
Arghh!
Once again, I was woken up by a splash of water on my face. Why can't this guy wake me up normally?
"Good morning!" he chirped cheerfully, dragging out the word 'morning.'
"Why can't you wake me up in a proper way?"
"Should I?" he replied with a seductive tone.
I shuddered at the thought of him waking me up like that, reading his intentions.
"Nooo!"
I yelled, refusing to even entertain the idea.
"Behave yourself, you pervert!"
"Young Lord, didn't you secretly want that, though?" he whined, waving his hands dramatically.
"I said nooo!" I yelled, my voice echoing through the entire forest.
"Now, back to why we're here," he said suddenly, his tone turning serious.
"Do you have any idea why I brought you here, of all places?" he asked.
I must have looked completely clueless because he quickly added, "This is the center peak of Mount Hilberna."
"This is the ideal place for you to train. It's quiet, perfect for honing and awakening your abilities. And the best part—"
There he goes again, with his annoying habit of pausing for dramatic effect before dropping some major revelation.
"The Monsters"