The morning sun crept through the cracks of the wooden shutters in Cedric's home, bathing the modest room in a soft golden glow. Michio sat up abruptly, drenched in sweat from the nightmare that had plagued his sleep. His parents' faces flashed in his mind, their final moments etched in his memory like a scar that refused to fade. Swallowing his grief, he clenched his fists, his resolve burning fiercer than ever.
He hurried to the training yard, where Cedric was sharpening his blade. Noticing Michio's troubled expression, Cedric put the sword aside and approached him. Before Cedric could speak, Michio fell to his knees, his voice trembling with desperation.
"Please, Cedric," he pleaded. "Make me stronger. Stronger than anyone. I need to protect the people I care about. Please!"
Cedric's eyes softened with a mix of sorrow and admiration. He placed a hand on Michio's shoulder. "Michio," he began, "there is nothing more I can teach you. Your potential surpasses mine, but my methods will only hold you back now."
Michio's voice cracked as he begged again, tears streaming down his face. "Please, Cedric. I'll do anything. I just can't… I won't lose anyone else."
Cedric hesitated, the weight of Michio's words cutting deep. Finally, he sighed. "There is someone who might be able to teach you more than I ever could. His name is Darius Kaelthar. He's a master swordsman, but he hasn't taken an apprentice since… since his last one died fighting the demons."
Michio's eyes lit up with hope. "Please, take me to him."
Cedric nodded reluctantly, gathering his things. Together, they set off to find the elusive swordsman.
Darius's home stood at the edge of the Eldenwood Forest, shrouded in an eerie stillness. The wooden cabin was weathered, with ivy creeping up its walls and a faint hum of magic in the air. Cedric knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the quiet surroundings. They waited, but there was no answer. Just as they turned to leave, the door creaked open, revealing a man in his forties with a rugged face and a single arm. His other "hand" glowed faintly, a magical construct that mimicked the motions of a real limb.
Darius's sharp eyes narrowed. "Cedric. I told you never to come here again."
Cedric bowed his head in respect. "I'm sorry, Darius, but this is important."
Darius's gaze shifted to Michio, who stood resolute despite the weight of the man's intimidating presence. "What do you want?" he asked curtly.
Cedric explained everything—the tragedy that had befallen Elderwyn, the loss of Michio's family, and his desire to grow stronger to protect those he loved. But Darius shook his head, his expression hardening.
"No," Darius said firmly. "I don't take apprentices anymore. Leave."
Michio's heart sank, but he refused to give up. Tears welled in his eyes as he fell to his knees. "Please," he begged. "I'll do anything. I'll prove myself. Just teach me. I can't let anyone else suffer because I wasn't strong enough."
Darius's jaw tightened, but he didn't relent. "Go home, kid. This path will only lead to more pain."
Michio wiped his tears and stood, determination burning in his gaze. "Then I'll stay here. I won't leave until you teach me."
Cedric placed a hand on Michio's shoulder. "Are you sure about this?"
Michio nodded. "I have to do this."
Respecting his decision, Cedric returned home, leaving Michio alone at Darius's doorstep. Days turned into a week. Michio's body grew frail as he went without food or water. His once-vivid eyes were now sunken, and his pale skin clung tightly to his bones. Yet he never wavered. Darius watched from the shadows, torn between admiration and frustration.
On the seventh day, Darius stepped outside, carrying a plate of food. He placed it before Michio. "If you can't survive, you can't save anyone," he said gruffly. "Eat. And be up at dawn tomorrow. If you're late, I won't teach you."
Michio's heart swelled with relief and gratitude. He devoured the meal and collapsed into an exhausted sleep on the ground. That night, Darius covered him with a blanket, memories of his own late apprentice flooding his mind. He clenched his fists, his heart heavy with guilt and loss.
In the dark dungeons of Varlok, Asahi sat silently in his cell, his mind racing with plans for escape. He observed the guards closely, noting their routines and weaknesses. That evening, during dinner, he feigned desperation.
"I need to relieve myself," he told a guard. "Unless you want me to do it here."
Disgusted, the guard escorted him to the forest behind the prison. Asahi pretended to struggle with his cuffs behind a tree, using the opportunity to wriggle free. His wrists bled from the effort, but he managed to slip the restraints and bolted silently into the shadows.
The guards quickly noticed his absence. Panic spread among them as they realized the consequences of losing a prisoner. Hellhounds were unleashed, their noses to the ground as they tracked his scent. Asahi's breath came in ragged gasps as he hid behind a boulder, his heart pounding in his chest. But the hounds were relentless. They found him and dragged him back to the prison, throwing him into a high-security cell.
Inside the dimly lit cell, Asahi noticed a woman sitting in the corner, her clothes tattered and her expression weary. She glanced at him but said nothing. The silence was broken only when guards entered, dragging her out and torturing her mercilessly. Asahi's anger boiled over, and he lunged at the guards, despite his weakened state. They beat him back, but his defiance didn't go unnoticed.
Later, as the guards were called away, Asahi tended to the woman's wounds, recalling the healing magic Cedric had taught him. The woman, touched by his kindness, introduced herself as Sara. She listened intently as Asahi shared his story, his voice heavy with grief and determination.
Sara placed a hand on his, her touch warm and comforting. "If you're serious about defeating the demons," she said, "I can teach you the blade arts. But it won't be easy."
Asahi's eyes lit up with hope. "I'll do whatever it takes."
Sara smiled faintly. "Close your eyes."
When he opened them, they stood in a vast, ethereal space, shimmering with light. Sara summoned two swords with a wave of her hand. "Time flows differently here. We'll train until you're ready."
Asahi gripped the sword, his resolve firm. Both brothers, though separated, had taken the same oath—to grow stronger and avenge their family. Their journeys had begun, and destiny awaited.