The path to Reynar's house wound through the village like an old, forgotten stream, twisting and turning past weathered cottages and patches of wild grass.
Caius and Jory knew it well—they had walked it countless times, but today, the air felt different. A sense of anticipation hung between them, a shared knowledge that what lay ahead was more than another visit to the old man.
Caius strode ahead, his steps steady, while Jory followed a pace behind, his usual lighthearted nature tempered by the weight of their conversation. Reynar had always been more than just a retired fisherman to them; he was a symbol of the life they both dreamed of—a life free from the empire's control, a life with purpose.
Reynar lived at the edge of Greywater in a modest wooden house that overlooked the sea. It was small but sturdy, just like the man living there. As they approached, Caius's thoughts drifted to his own upbringing. He had lived with his Aunt Maria for as long as he could remember.
She had taken him in when his parents were gone, though he couldn't recall much about them. Aunt Maria never spoke of them in detail, only smiling gently when he asked and saying, "They're sending money from heaven, my dear. Don't you worry."
Maria was kind and hardworking and always found a way to provide for Caius and Jory, who had practically become her second son. It wasn't that Jory didn't have his own family, but his situation had always been more complicated.
Like Caius, Jory was an orphan, but his life had taken a different path. After his real parents were gone, a man stepped in to raise him—his foster father, Edgar. Edgar owed Jory's real father a life debt he could never repay. So, when tragedy struck and Jory was left with no one, Edgar took him in.
But Edgar had seven children, and though his heart was right, he couldn't give Jory the needed attention. With so many mouths to feed, Jory often spent more time at Caius's home than his own.
With her warm, ever-welcoming smile, Aunt Maria never seemed to mind. She treated Jory like family; the two boys had been inseparable ever since.
As they reached the edge of the village, Reynar's house came into view. The sight of it, perched on the cliffs like a sentinel overlooking the sea, brought a calmness to Caius's heart.
Reynar had always been their guide, their mentor in all things wild and free. Today, Caius knew, they would ask him the question that had been burning in his mind ever since their talk on the dock.
Caius rapped on the heavy wooden door, the sound sharp and steady against the quiet morning air. The old house creaked and groaned as if it were waking from a long slumber, and from behind the door came the familiar voice of Reynar.
"Who's there? The same fools coming to disturb an old man?"
Jory chuckled nervously, but Caius only smiled. The door opened, revealing Reynar standing tall in the doorway, his broad shoulders and muscular frame still intimidating despite his age. His once-black hair had turned silver, but his eyes—piercing and cold like the ocean on a stormy day—still gleamed with the strength of a man who had seen and done more than most could ever imagine.
Even now, Reynar exuded an aura of power that made it clear why no one dared to challenge him, not even the empire's soldiers. But Reynar had made it clear long ago that he would not go against the empire either. Caius and Jory both knew the reason behind his restraint.
Reynar was suffering from a terminal illness, one that slowly ate away at his strength. Though he could still call upon the power that had once made him a legend, each time he did, it cost him dearly. Every battle, every display of force, drained his life force further. It was something Reynar had shared only with them—his two pupils.
"Well, are you here to be beaten again today?" Reynar asked with a smirk, his deep voice holding that same teasing edge it always did when he spoke to them.
Caius and Jory shook their heads, the memories of their harsh training still fresh. Reynar's teaching methods were far from gentle. Every day, they practiced martial arts and swordsmanship under his strict guidance. Reynar ensured they understood the meaning of pain and perseverance.
The old man stepped aside, letting them in. Inside, the house was simple but sturdy, like Reynar himself. Weapons lined the walls, including swords, spears, and artifacts from his days as part of the legendary Silver Serpents.
Caius and Jory sat down on the floor in front of Reynar; their eyes focused on the man who had become more than just a mentor to them. He was their guide, protector, and the closest thing they had to a father figure.
After a moment of silence, Caius spoke, his voice steady. "I want to set sail. I want to become a pirate."
Reynar leaned back slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing as he regarded Caius. The room seemed to grow still as the weight of Caius's words settled. Reynar didn't respond right away, his expression unreadable. After an eternity, he finally shifted his gaze to Jory.
"And you, boy? Do you intend to follow Caius?"
Jory shook his head, his voice quiet but firm. "I'm not ready for that yet. There's still so much for me to learn." He glanced at Caius, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. "Caius… he's different. He's mastered everything you've taught us, Reynar. He knows how to sail and how to fight. I'm not at his level yet."
Reynar stroked his beard thoughtfully, his eyes moving back to Caius. There was no denying the truth in Jory's words. Caius had absorbed everything Reynar had taught him. Martial arts, swordsmanship, sailing—all of it. And now, it seemed, the boy was ready for the next step.
"You've learned much," Reynar said, his voice low. "But there's only so much I can teach you here. The rest… you'll have to learn out there, on your own."
Caius's eyes glimmered with excitement. He felt the thrill of freedom right at his fingertips for a brief moment. "Does that mean you're blessing me to set sail?" Caius asked, his voice steady but laced with anticipation.
Reynar gave a small nod, but his sharp eyes remained unwaveringly focused on Caius. "I'm not stopping you, boy. You've come far, but…" His voice trailed off, and Caius could feel the shift in the air, a tension building between them.
Reynar leaned forward, folding his arms across his chest. "Before I let you go, there's one more thing you need to face. One final test."
Caius felt his heart skip a beat, his pulse quickening. His confidence wavered momentarily as he looked at the old man, whose gaze felt as heavy as the sea. "A final test?" Caius asked, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.
From the corner of his eye, Caius saw Jory suppressing a chuckle, a grin forming on his face as if he knew what was coming.
Reynar's lips curled into a smirk. "A battle. But not like before." His voice lowered, and the atmosphere in the room seemed to thicken. "We won't be using wooden swords this time."
Caius swallowed hard, the weight of Reynar's words sinking in. A real battle. With real blades. He had fought Reynar countless times in practice. Still, those battles had always been with wooden swords, bruises, and fatigue as the only consequences. This was different.
Reynar rose from his chair and walked over to the wall, his hand reaching for one of the hanging swords. He gripped the hilt and pulled it free from its place, the blade gleaming as it caught the light. He turned and pointed it at Caius. "If you want to sail the seas, you must prove you can survive them. This is your last chance to show me you're ready."
Caius felt a lump in his throat as he stood, his legs slightly heavier. He glanced at Jory, whose grin had faded. His friend now looked worried, as if suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation.
But Caius couldn't back down. Not now. He took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm ready."
Reynar's eyes narrowed. "We'll see."