The tale of the immortal Dark wolf
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Chapter 1: The Ninja Dream
(50 lines)
The sky above the village burned orange with the sunset.
A boy named Kairo crouched on a rooftop, pretending to be a ninja.
His eyes followed the wind, his hands gripping wooden kunai.
“Come on, Riku,” he whispered. “We can’t be late.”
Riku, his best friend, clumsily climbed up behind him.
“You really think we’ll be ninjas one day?” Riku asked.
Kairo nodded without hesitation.
“I know we will. I feel it in my blood.”
They watched the secret training ground of the village ninja.
Masked warriors leapt through fire and shadows like whispers.
“We’ll get in one day,” Kairo said, fire in his eyes.
Riku laughed. “We’ll be dead by then.”
But Kairo wasn’t laughing.
His heart pounded with a dream passed down from his mother.
Before she died, she told him:
“You have the soul of a wolf. Chase your purpose.”
Kairo didn’t know what that meant—yet.
He leapt down from the roof, fast and quiet.
Riku followed, less graceful but loyal.
They ran to the old dojo at the edge of the woods.
No one trained there anymore. It was forbidden.
“This is where we start,” Kairo said.
They lit candles and bowed to invisible masters.
“We train. Every day. Until we’re worthy.”
Sweat, bruises, and laughter followed.
Days became weeks.
They mimicked the ninja they’d watched,
Practicing flips, strikes, and silence.
But something strange began happening.
When Kairo concentrated, he felt energy in the air.
It shimmered—cold and silver—like moonlight.
And Riku? His shadow would stretch unnaturally long.
One night, a wild storm struck.
Lightning hit the dojo roof, but it didn’t burn.
Instead, a scroll appeared where it struck.
Old, sealed in black ribbon, glowing faintly.
Kairo touched it—and saw visions:
A wolf made of flame, running through darkness.
A masked ninja standing over his fallen mother.
