The abandoned warehouse smelled of mildew and decay, a fitting backdrop for Zephyr's unorthodox training methods. Kai, still reeling from the shock of Ren's death and the unexpected arrival of Zephyr, found himself staring at a battered punching bag, its leather scarred and torn. Zephyr, ever the pragmatist, stood before him, a wicked grin playing on his lips.
"So, kid," Zephyr began, his voice echoing in the cavernous space, "you want revenge, right? Well, revenge isn't served on a silver platter. It's earned, sweat by sweat, bruise by bruise."
He tossed Kai a pair of worn leather gloves. "These are your new best friends. Get to know them well."
The training was brutal. Zephyr pushed Kai to his absolute limits, relentlessly drilling him in hand-to-hand combat, swordsmanship, and the art of strategic thinking. He didn't coddle Kai; he didn't offer encouragement. He simply pushed, relentlessly, until Kai's body screamed in protest and his mind threatened to shatter.
Anya, a striking woman with eyes as sharp as her katana, occasionally joined the training sessions. Her movements were fluid and deadly, a mesmerizing dance of precision and grace. She offered Kai little in the way of encouragement, but her occasional corrections were invaluable. She saw his potential, a spark of resilience buried beneath the grief and self-doubt.
Between the grueling physical training, Zephyr quizzed Kai on the history of Veridia, its hidden alleys, its shadowy organizations, and the various types of Grotesques that plagued the city. He explained the symbiotic relationship between the city's darkness and the monsters it spawned, revealing a complex web of interconnectedness Kai had never considered.
One evening, after a particularly grueling session that left Kai gasping for breath, Zephyr finally broke his silence. He sat beside Kai, the flickering candlelight illuminating his sharp features.
"You're stronger than you think, Kai," Zephyr said, his voice surprisingly soft. "But strength isn't just about muscles and fighting skills. It's about resilience, about the will to keep going when everything inside you screams to give up."
He paused, then added, "And about understanding the price of what you want."
He produced a small, intricately carved wooden box from his pocket. Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, was a single, iridescent feather.
"This," Zephyr said, his voice low and serious, "is a piece of a Griffin's wing. A powerful creature, almost mythical. It's a part of the price for my training. Each feather represents a life, a sacrifice made. This one is Ren's."
Kai stared at the feather, his heart clenching. The price of revenge was high. It wasn't just about physical strength; it was about accepting the cost, the sacrifices, and the weight of the choices he would have to make. He understood now. Zephyr wasn't just a mercenary; he was a teacher, a guide, and a reminder of the harsh realities of their world. The road ahead would be long and perilous, but Kai was ready to walk it, one step at a time. He would avenge Ren. He would pay the price."