With a face marked by dissatisfaction, Dinis advanced slowly. Throughout his life, his sole purpose had been to train tirelessly, preparing to face any danger or adversity that might arise. But now, he tasted the bitter flavor of incapacity, as if he were facing an insurmountable wall—an obstacle preventing him from moving forward. The memories of previous battles and the relentless knight still weighed on his mind, provoking a restless feeling of inadequacy.
Needing rest and time to recover, he found a safe place and sat down, crossing his legs to meditate. He knew that to reach the next Sentinel level, he needed to absorb everything he had learned and experienced. The recent fights had worn down his body but had strengthened his resolve. Breathing deeply, he allowed his inner energy to flow, seeking to reach the advanced stage of Guardian Sentinel and finally leave the consolidated level behind.
As he meditated, fragments of memory surfaced in his mind—recollections of important moments and advice that had shaped his path. He remembered conversations with Everard, his mentor, who spoke to him about the pitfalls of the incessant quest for strength.
The transition into the memory was smooth, as if Everard's words were being whispered directly into his ears, coming from a distant time but still intensely present.
"Boy, your strength, tenacity, and endurance in training are impressive," Everard had said with a slight smile. "It may seem that you're becoming unreachable, but never forget: true growth appears when we encounter an obstacle we believe is impossible to overcome."
Dinis, young and determined, asked with curiosity and expectation:
"Do you think I might find an opponent with such strength?"
Everard chuckled lightly, but his expression soon became more serious.
"Not everything is about physical strength in this world, Dinis. Your greatest adversary will always be yourself. The moment you think you're incapable of doing something, remember: the greatest battle is internal. Today, I wonder if I could have been a stronger Sentinel if I hadn't given up on my own internal struggle."
Everard's countenance became melancholic, and Dinis noticed something deep in his mentor's eyes—a shadow of pain. As if sensing the young man's attention, Everard began to speak, his voice tinged with nostalgia.
"Years ago, I was married to a woman. I remember the day I met her for the first time, our first conversations, and the moment she embraced me, giving me a peace I had never felt before. She was the calm I didn't even know I was searching for. At the time, I desired only physical strength; I wanted to be unparalleled under the skies, to become a legend."
Everard paused, his eyes lost on some distant point.
"During those years, no creature or warrior could intimidate me. The pursuit of power became an obsession. But... that obsession was a void I could never fill. I always felt incomplete, always weak. And as I sank into this insane quest, I neglected the person who meant the most to me."
Dinis listened attentively, Everard's words echoing in his mind. He understood what his mentor was trying to convey, but the pain of it seemed much deeper than he could imagine.
"Over time," Everard continued, his voice laden with sadness, "she became isolated, consumed by the loneliness I had blindly made her endure. I neglected the person who was always by my side, offering support and love without asking for anything in return. When I finally realized it, it was too late. I returned from a long training journey to find her gone. There was only a letter, in which she expressed all she felt."
Everard closed his eyes, as if he could still see those words engraved in his mind. He recited the letter's words with resigned pain, as if each syllable were a memory cutting deeply into him:
"'Life has always shown me its harsh lessons, and by your side, I found something I didn't know existed: love. You brought light to my journey and taught me that there is a third path in our life's journey. No treasure, no gold in the world could equal the smile you carved on my face. But there are loves we cannot imprison, only temporarily navigate, like a river that always leads us to our final destination.'"
Everard stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing. His voice was a whisper.
"'I understand that your quest for growth is important and that I have no right to impede this path. But this is not a destiny I can share. I hope you find what you seek so much and live happily in the way you deserve. I love you.'"
Everard's voice faltered, and he fell silent, as if the weight of those words still crushed him. Dinis watched, feeling his mentor's profound sadness, realizing that there was something there that not even the greatest strength could heal.
"At my physical peak, I realized how fragile I really was," Everard said, his voice slightly trembling. "Reading that letter was like feeling every part of me crumble. My stomach seemed to be tearing apart, my eyes burned with tears, and the silence around me was deafening. The ambition for strength and fame no longer made sense. Nothing is gained at the top but the loneliness of its champion."
Silence fell between them, Everard's words still echoing in Dinis's mind—a painful reminder of the hidden sacrifices in a life of battles and achievements. Dinis, in his meditation, felt the weight of his mentor's words, absorbing the lesson that went beyond physical strength.