The Next Day – Medar Learns of the Sky Hunters
The morning after the teasing, Medar couldn't shake the strange feeling that something was calling to him. As he walked to school, his eyes kept straying toward the sky, searching for the mysterious shadow he'd seen the day before. But the skies were clear, and nothing was out of the ordinary. Still, a nagging sense that his life was meant for something more lingered at the back of his mind.
That afternoon, after his lessons, Medar wandered through the village, his feet dragging as he tried to push away the memories of the taunts. He didn't want to return to the orphanage yet; he needed to clear his head. As he passed through the village square, he overheard a conversation between a group of village elders, their voices low and urgent. They were standing near the old stone fountain, their faces serious.
"Have you heard the latest news?" one of the men, Elder Tyrus, asked the others in a hushed tone. His voice trembled slightly, as though he were afraid of being overheard. "The Sky Hunters have been recruiting again. They've increased their presence near the borders."
"The Sky Hunters?!" another elder, Elder Rena, exclaimed, her voice sharp. "Are they really here? What business do they have in our peaceful village?"
The conversation piqued Medar's curiosity, and he inched closer, trying to remain unnoticed.
"Be cautious, Rena," Elder Tyrus warned. "We cannot ignore them. The Sky Hunters are the law of the land. They rule with an iron fist, and anyone who defies them disappears. We've heard whispers that they're looking for special individuals, those with unique abilities. And some of the children in the village—well, there's talk that they could be… recruited."
"Recruited for what?" Elder Rena asked, her voice thick with concern.
"To join the Sky Hunters, of course," Elder Tyrus replied. "To serve them."
Medar's heart raced as the conversation unfolded. The Sky Hunters—he had heard the name in passing, but never with such intensity. They were more than just a group; they were the government. The Sky Hunters were the enforcers of order in the land, the ones who kept control over the territories, from the most remote villages to the bustling cities. They were feared, respected, and utterly ruthless. But they were also revered, and many saw them as the only hope for a chaotic world.
Medar listened intently, his curiosity growing with every word.
"They say the Sky Hunters are looking for those who have the power to shape the world," Elder Tyrus continued, his voice heavy with a strange mix of awe and fear. "They're gathering those with potential, children like Medar…"
Medar froze. They were talking about him.
The mention of his name, though vague, sent a shiver down his spine. Did they know something about him? Was his gray hair, his strange powers, linked to the Sky Hunters' search? He didn't know, but the idea of becoming one of them—their strength, their power, their authority—filled him with an unexpected resolve.
He had always known he was different. The taunts about his hair, the way people whispered when he entered a room, it all felt like a constant reminder of his otherness. But the Sky Hunters… they were different. They weren't bound by the same rules, the same judgments. They had power. And perhaps, just perhaps, they could offer him the place he so desperately longed for—a place where he would no longer be the outsider.
Later That Evening
Medar couldn't stop thinking about the Sky Hunters. That night, after the evening meal at the orphanage, he slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Sister Livia. He had to know more. He had to understand what the Sky Hunters were looking for and why they seemed so interested in people like him. He made his way to the village library, a small building filled with dusty books and scrolls, tucked away at the edge of the square.
He had never been allowed to roam through the older, more restricted sections of the library. But tonight, he was determined. His fingers grazed the spines of the ancient tomes as he searched for any mention of the Sky Hunters. And there, tucked between two thick volumes, he found a small, leather-bound journal. It was old, its pages yellowed with age, but it looked important.
He flipped it open carefully. The first entry was dated hundreds of years ago, and it spoke of a time when the Sky Hunters were first founded. They had started as a mercenary group in the distant past, but over time, they grew more powerful, eventually rising to become the governing body of the land. The journal detailed the various recruitment trials they held, the tests of skill, strength, and intelligence they used to find those worthy of their ranks.
The final passage caught his attention:
"The Sky Hunters seek those who are destined to change the course of history. They seek the chosen—those whose bloodlines carry the potential for unimaginable power. The mark of the chosen will be revealed when the skies themselves call."
Medar's hand trembled as he read the last part. "The mark of the chosen…" His eyes widened in realization. Was that what the mysterious shadow he had seen in the sky was? Was he meant to be part of something much larger than he ever imagined?
His resolve hardened. If the Sky Hunters were looking for people like him—people who were different, people with potential—then he would strive to become one of them. He would prove himself worthy, not just of their acceptance, but of their respect. No longer would he be the child with the strange gray hair, the outcast. He would become something greater.
He would become a Sky Hunter.
The Following Days – Medar's Determination
The next day, Medar was different. The teasing, the whispers, they didn't bother him as much. His eyes were sharper, his steps more purposeful. He began to train in secret, running through the fields outside the village at dawn, practicing his endurance. He pushed himself harder each day, testing the limits of his strength, trying to understand his body and mind more than ever before.
He didn't know what the Sky Hunters would require of him, but he knew that if he was going to be part of their ranks, he would have to be prepared. He couldn't afford to be weak, to be ridiculed, to be held back by his past.
With every passing day, his desire to join them grew stronger. He would find a way—no matter the cost.