The morning sun painted the Strynott farm in soft hues of gold and amber, but the beauty of the scene was lost on me. Today marked the beginning of a new chapter, one that carried a bittersweet weight. Emery and I stood by the cart, our bags packed, our marks visible on our arms like silent proclamations of what was to come.
Rorik and Inga stood before us, their expressions firm yet tinged with emotion.
---
"You've come far in the time you've been here," Rorik said, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "You've worked hard, and you've earned my respect."
His gaze shifted to me, his stern demeanor softening just slightly. "But this is just the beginning, boy. The road ahead will be harder than anything you've faced here. Stay focused. Stay disciplined. And don't let anyone tell you what you can't do."
I nodded, his words settling in my chest like a promise. "I won't let you down."
Rorik grunted. "You'd better not."
---
Inga stepped forward, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as she placed a hand on Emery's shoulder. "You've been a blessing to me, dear," she said softly. "I'm going to miss your help in the kitchen—and your company."
Emery smiled, though her eyes were damp. "I'll miss you too, Inga. Thank you for everything."
Inga pulled her into a warm embrace, whispering something too quiet for me to hear. When they parted, her gaze fell on me.
"Take care of her," she said, her tone firm.
"I will," I promised.
---
As we climbed into the cart, Ulrik took the reins, his massive frame a commanding presence even as he sat. Vidal, seated beside him, gave us an encouraging smile.
Rorik raised a hand in farewell as the horses began to move. "Don't forget where you started, boy!" he called after me.
"I won't!" I shouted back, my voice carrying over the sound of the wheels creaking against the dirt.
The farm grew smaller behind us, the fields and house fading into the distance until they were nothing but a memory.
---
The journey was quiet at first, the rhythmic clatter of the cart's wheels filling the silence. Ulrik broke it after a while, his deep voice commanding attention.
"When a child goes through the changing," he began, "they usually join the academy."
"The academy?" Emery asked, her curiosity piqued.
Ulrik nodded. "Ulvenskola. It's where warriors and Magi are trained. They accept students twice a year—once in the spring and once in the fall."
"When's the next enrollment?" I asked.
"Five months from now," Ulrik replied. "The last intake was a month ago. Normally, children train on their own during this gap, honing the basics until they can begin formal training."
---
He turned his gaze to me, his expression serious. "But you're not normal, Logan. Your talents are too valuable to waste. You'll be training with me until the academy opens its doors. You've got a lot to learn—and not just the way of the warrior. You've got to master your Qi and your Mana. That's no small task."
I felt a mix of excitement and trepidation at his words. "I'm ready," I said firmly.
"You'd better be," Ulrik said. "The world isn't kind to those with potential. If you don't live up to it, someone else will make sure you don't live at all."
His words were harsh, but they lit a fire in me. I glanced at Emery, her determination mirrored in her expression. We would face this challenge together.
---
The cart rolled on, the landscape shifting as we traveled deeper into the Nord lands. The future was uncertain, but for the first time, I felt like we were moving toward something—a purpose, a destiny.
And I was ready to meet it head-on.