Over the desolate hills stood the fortress of the Dark Sect, its jagged spires cutting at the heavens like the talons of some ancient beast. Thick and oppressive, shadows hung on its stone walls, as if the weight of the innumerable misdeeds done within carried itself in the very air. This place raised, formed, and traumatised the male protagonist, who was simply known as Kael.
When Master Shen, the Dark Sect commander, discovered Kael, he had been a young lad. Though the recollection of that day was a fog of suffering and uncertainty, one picture stayed clear: a girl golden-haired and brilliant, like the morning, disappearing into the light as darkness took him entirely. Despite its distortion and fracture, this fleeting image etched itself deeply into his spirit, reappearing in nightmares and quiet moments.
However, Kael's life was far from tranquil. The Dark Sect refused sentiment or gentleness. Since Shen brought him here, intense training has occupied Kael's days entirely. The sect's ideas were strict and uncompromising; every lesson was a little of a greater truth Master Shen claimed to be serving.
Shen would reply, his voice icy as the winds howled across the stronghold, "Emotion is weakness." "A blade's strength is only what that of its wielder will allow. Get rid of your attachments; you will be unbreakable.
Kels had tried to pay attention to those words. He had sought to conceal the memory of the girl and her seeming warmth. Still, they persisted, tenacious and relentless like coals that would not go out. And as he developed, the gulf separating the assassin he was supposed to be from the person he once was also increased.
— ——
By seventeen, Kael had evolved into one of the most effective murderers in the Dark Sect. He struck deadly and moved precisely. Still, his eyes sometimes failed him. While others in the cult stared coldly and unfeelingly, Kael's eyes flicked with something else—something Shen attempted to burn out.
Shen called one evening, his tone harsh. "Kael," he said. With his robes flapping in the breeze, the older guy stood on the brink of the training area. Kael came up, his steps quiet on the stone floor.
"Master," Kael murmured, bending low.
Shen watched the lad, his eyes narrowed. Your goal last night—you hesitated—was to achieve it.
Kela stiffened but did not turn away his eye. "I finished the project."
"You did," Shen said, but his voice carried contempt. But doubt is a fault in the base of your will. If left uncontrolled, it will expand.
Kael's mouth constricted. "It is not likely to happen once more.
"See that it doesn't," Shen growled, his voice a low growl and his sharp eyes fixed on Kael. "You have promise, Kael, but if you cannot manage yourself, that means nothing. Remember: emotion is the enemy.
Kael hesitated, his hands closing at his sides. Shen sensed the stop—maybe a flutter of defiance—and his face darkened. "I will provide you one should you require a reminder of discipline. First, break one of your fingers.
Though he didn't dispute, Kael's eyes widened somewhat. He reached his left hand slowly and pushed his right thumb against the tiniest finger. The stillness resonated with the sound of breaking bone. Kael made no sound while pain acutely and mercilessly tore across his hand. He raised his eyes to meet Shen's, his suffering smouldering under a wrath he could not completely hide.
"Good," Shen murmured, his voice icy. Allow that suffering to be a teaching tool. One develops control by means of sacrifice. Now go away from me.
Kael nodded, though the words felt empty. Though he had heard them many times, the weight of them seemed to get greater with every repeat.
----
Later that evening, Kael sat by himself in his quarters, the small room softly illuminated by one lantern. While he polished his sword, his hands were steady, but his thoughts were something else. The mission Shen had mentioned kept playing back in his mind.
It had been a standard task—the murder of a minor sect leader who had dared to challenge the Dark Sect's expanding dominance. Kael had easily broken into the man's house, his motions quiet as a shadow. But something had caused him to stop as he stood above his victim, blade prepared to hit. The dad had been cradling a three-year-old kid whose golden hair shimmered in the low light. The sight set off something inside Kael, a remnant of a memory he struggled to understand.
At that moment, Kael had experienced doubt—something he hadn't let himself feel in years. He had finished the task, but Shen would have noticed enough hesitancy to indicate anything. And now, as Kael gazed at his reflection in the polished steel of his blade, he was unable to remove the picture of the girl.
Though he was unsure if he was referring to the child or himself, he said to the darkness, "Who are you?"
---
The following were exhausting days. Shen pushed Kael harder than ever, running him through never-ending drills and sparring sessions meant to break him. Despite his head being elsewhere, Kael persevered, his body moving instinctively. The memory of the girl tormented him, bringing glimpses of another face—a girl with golden hair and eyes that shimmered like the sun and moon taken together.
Following a particularly violent session, Kels walked the outside walls of the stronghold one evening. The cool night air was a welcome respite from the stifling heat at the training site. Though he couldn't define it exactly, he felt an unusual longing as he stared out at the far-off hills.
Once more, you seem distracted.
Kael turned suddenly to discover Lian, Shen's daughter, a few meters distant. She was striking, her dark hair falling over her shoulders and her sharp eyes fixated on him. Lian, unlike her father, was curious rather than austere. She watched Kael during training a lot, but her motives were not obvious.
"What are you looking for?" Kael asked, his voice more pointed than he had meant.
Lian seemed unoffended, even though she raised an eyebrow. "I'd like to know what that head of yours is going through. You have been off recently.
Keal turned back towards the horizon. "It's nothing.".
Lian muttered, "Liar," moving in closer. Kael, you are not like the others around here. You feel things, not just me?
He answered nothing, yet his quiet was sufficient.
"That's not a flaw, you know," Lian said. "Never mind what my father says."
Kela tightened his hands. "Here it is."
Lian watched him for a bit before responding once more. Perhaps it is not you who is wrong. Perhaps this place is.
Long after she had left, her comments hung in the air. Kael gazed out at the hills, his thoughts flickering with a memory. Though he couldn't articulate it, he felt it—a spark, tiny and delicate yet impossible to overlook. It served as a reminder of something he had lost and maybe something he was supposed to find once more.