There were moments in a person's life where truth revealed itself not all at once, but in fragments.
A sentence overheard through thin walls.
A trembling hand.
A broken vial.
A look in someone's eyes.
Aldreic understood this much now.
Something was happening around him.
Something larger than the forest.
Larger than the isolated home he had spent his entire life trapped within.
But the more pieces he gathered, the less he understood.
Every answer only created newer questions.
Who were those men?
What had his parents done?
What did the High Court want?
And why did every road somehow lead back to him?
Yet none of those questions frightened him as much as another realization slowly creeping into his thoughts.
He could not feel fear properly anymore.
Not the way others did.
---
Far from the populated roads and villages of Eryndur, Aldreic and his family lived in isolation near the northern coastlines, where jagged cliffs overlooked dark waters and violent tides battered the rocks endlessly below.
The land surrounding their home was dense with forests and uneven hills, making it difficult for ordinary travelers to stumble upon accidentally.
But the sea was different.
The sea connected everything.
Merchants.
Pirates.
Mercenaries.
Invaders.
A ship did not need roads.
And when kingdoms neglected their coastlines, violence often arrived quietly from the water.
---
Rain tapped softly against Aldreic's window that night.
The storm had weakened into a cold drizzle, though the wind still whispered through the trees outside. Moonlight barely pierced through the clouds, leaving most of the forest buried beneath darkness.
Aldreic lay awake.
Sleep refused to come.
The argument he overheard earlier still echoed inside his head.
He's still a child.
Do you think they care?
They'll kill us.
The words repeated endlessly.
Then—
Rustling.
Aldreic's eyes shifted toward the window.
Bushes moving.
At first he frowned slightly.
Probably another animal caught in one of the traps.
Wild foxes occasionally wandered too close to the house searching for scraps. Sometimes wolves appeared during harsher winters.
He closed his eyes again.
Then another sound followed.
Glass clinking downstairs.
Movement.
Quick movement.
Aldreic immediately sat upright.
That was strange.
At night, the house usually became silent.
His father passed out drunk.
His mother locked herself away.
No one moved around this late.
Yet tonight—
Footsteps hurried below.
Wood scraped against wood.
Cabinets opened.
Drawers slammed shut.
Aldreic slowly climbed from bed.
The cold floor creaked beneath his feet as he quietly approached the door.
More noises.
Panic.
Something was wrong.
He descended the staircase slowly.
And froze.
His mother was frantically gathering potion bottles from the shelves.
Papers scattered across the floor.
Glass containers clattered loudly against one another while she stuffed ingredients desperately into a leather satchel. Some papers she threw directly into the fireplace, watching them burn immediately.
Others she folded carefully.
Protected.
Saved.
His father knelt beside an old chest Aldreic had never seen opened before.
Inside were weapons.
Real weapons.
Not woodcutting axes.
Not farming tools.
A longsword.
Daggers.
Armor pieces hidden beneath cloth.
His father's movements were rushed but experienced.
Like a man remembering instincts he had long abandoned.
Aldreic's chest tightened slightly.
"What's happening?"
Both parents immediately turned toward him.
For a brief moment—
Fear crossed their faces.
Then his mother rushed toward him quickly.
"Aldreic."
She grabbed him suddenly.
And hugged him.
Aldreic's eyes widened slightly.
His body stiffened immediately.
His mother…
was hugging him.
Warmly.
Protectively.
Her hands trembled around him.
"Don't be afraid," she whispered softly. "Everything will be alright."
Aldreic stood frozen.
Confused.
His thoughts became disoriented instantly.
Why now?
Why was she acting like this?
Was this another dream?
No.
He hadn't fallen asleep.
He knew he hadn't.
Then why—
Why did this suddenly feel like a family?
His father looked toward the windows anxiously.
"They're closer than expected."
His mother released Aldreic slowly.
Her eyes looked wet.
"Take only what's necessary," she told him quietly.
Aldreic stared at her silently.
For the first time in years…
He could see panic inside her eyes.
Real panic.
Not anger.
Not frustration.
Fear.
Yet strangely—
He could not feel the same fear himself.
He sensed danger.
He understood something terrible was approaching.
But emotionally…
there was distance.
As though his mind recognized death while his heart struggled to respond properly.
Aldreic looked down toward his hands briefly.
Something is wrong with me.
Then—
Whispers outside.
His father immediately grabbed the sword.
Footsteps surrounded the house.
Not one.
Not two.
Dozens.
Aldreic slowly backed away from the door.
The sounds became clearer.
Metal brushing against metal.
Blades slicing through air carelessly.
Low voices.
Laughter.
Not soldiers.
Not knights.
Predators.
His mother's breathing quickened.
His father stepped forward slowly.
"Stay behind me."
Then—
BOOM!
The front door exploded inward violently.
Wood splintered across the room.
Cold wind rushed inside alongside armed men covered in rough leather and rusted armor. Their faces were hardened by violence, scarred and filthy beneath soaked cloaks.
Mercenaries.
One lunged immediately.
Steel flashed.
Aldreic barely saw his father move.
CLANG!
The swords collided violently.
Sparks exploded through the dark room.
Another mercenary rushed from the side swinging an axe.
His father pivoted sharply—
SLASH!
Blood sprayed across the wall.
The man collapsed instantly clutching his throat.
Aldreic's eyes widened.
His father moved differently now.
Fast.
Controlled.
Deadly.
Not the drunken shell he knew.
But a warrior.
A real warrior.
"BACK DOOR!" his father roared.
Another attacker charged.
His father stepped forward aggressively despite having one arm.
The sword twisted sharply upward—
CRACK!
Steel pierced beneath the mercenary's jaw.
Aldreic felt his mother grabbing his wrist tightly.
"RUN!"
They sprinted toward the rear exit while chaos erupted behind them.
Furniture shattered.
Men screamed.
Steel clanged repeatedly.
Aldreic glanced back once.
His father stood alone against multiple attackers.
And somehow—
he was winning.
Even with one arm.
Even weakened by alcohol and years of neglect.
He still moved like a monster among ordinary men.
Bodies fell around him.
One after another.
The rain outside struck Aldreic's face harshly as they escaped into the darkness.
Branches tore against his clothes while mud splashed beneath their feet.
His mother kept pulling him forward desperately.
"Faster!"
Behind them—
screams echoed from the house.
Then suddenly—
Footsteps approached rapidly.
Aldreic turned instinctively.
His father emerged from the darkness covered in blood.
Not all of it his own.
His sword dripped crimson beneath the moonlight while his breathing came heavily.
Yet his eyes remained sharp.
Focused.
Alive.
For a moment—
Aldreic felt relief.
His father reached them near the stream cutting through the forest.
"We need the boat," his mother said desperately.
But then—
something enormous stepped forward from the fog.
A giant man emerged near the shoreline.
Broad shoulders.
Massive frame.
Scars covering his exposed arms.
Behind him rested a large mercenary vessel anchored near the coast.
Other armed men stood nearby carrying torches.
The giant smiled slowly.
A cruel smile.
Aldreic immediately felt it.
Death.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
His mother stepped forward shakily.
"Who sent you?" she demanded desperately.
The man said nothing.
She continued quickly.
"Was it the High Court? Tell them I'm close—"
Her voice cracked.
"Please… just a little more time…"
The giant finally laughed.
Deep.
Mocking.
"No one sent us."
His men chuckled behind him.
"We're mercenaries," he continued casually. "And your little house looked wealthy enough to rob."
Aldreic felt coldness spread through the air.
Something instinctive inside him understood immediately.
They were going to die.
His father stepped forward silently.
Sword raised.
The mercenary leader tilted his head slightly.
"One arm?" he laughed. "That explains the corpses back there."
Then his expression sharpened.
"But you're still dangerous."
Rain poured harder.
Thunder rumbled above.
And suddenly—
they moved.
The mercenary leader swung first.
A massive curved blade tore through the air violently.
CLANG!
Aldreic's father blocked it barely.
The impact alone forced him backward through mud.
Then the giant attacked again.
And again.
And again.
Each strike felt monstrous.
Heavy enough to split bone.
But Aldreic's father endured.
His swordsmanship was precise.
Efficient.
Years of battlefield experience flowed naturally through every movement.
He dodged.
Countered.
Struck.
The mercenary leader gained a cut across his shoulder.
Then another across his thigh.
The giant's smile disappeared.
The narrator of history would later remember warriors like Aldreic's father as men abandoned by peace.
Veterans forged in endless wars.
Men who had survived battles ordinary soldiers never returned from.
And though age, alcohol, and despair had weakened him—
on a proper battlefield…
with both arms…
with his former discipline…
he would have slaughtered most men standing there effortlessly.
His defeat tonight was not proof of weakness.
Only proof that time eventually devours all warriors.
The giant roared angrily.
Their blades collided repeatedly beneath storm and thunder.
Mud exploded beneath their feet.
The mercenary leader fought with overwhelming force.
But Aldreic's father fought like a desperate animal cornered protecting its family.
And desperation often created terrifying strength.
"RUN!" he shouted again.
His mother grabbed Aldreic desperately.
They turned.
And ran.
But then—
TWANG!
An arrow pierced through the rain.
His mother suddenly stopped.
Aldreic felt her grip loosen.
Slowly—
he looked down.
The arrow had pierced directly through her chest.
Her lips trembled.
Blood spilled slowly down her clothes.
For the first time—
Aldreic felt something crack inside him.
His mother collapsed into the mud.
His eyes widened.
No thoughts came.
Only sensation.
Raw.
Sharp.
Pain.
Then another sound followed behind him.
His father.
A blade pierced through his chest.
The giant mercenary stood behind him breathing heavily.
Aldreic's father staggered once.
Twice.
Then fell into the rain silently.
Dead.
Everything became quiet.
The storm.
The sea.
The world itself.
Aldreic stared blankly.
His chest hurt.
No—
something deeper hurt.
Something inside him felt like it was disappearing.
Tears slowly rolled down his face.
Warm.
Strange.
When was the last time he cried?
Could he even remember?
The mercenary leader approached slowly.
Sword dragging behind him.
Aldreic did not move.
He could not.
Not from fear.
But because his mind struggled to understand what had just happened.
His family was gone.
Just like that.
The giant stopped before him.
Rain dripped from his beard while he studied the boy carefully.
No screaming.
No begging.
No panic.
Only emptiness.
Interesting.
Then suddenly—
bells rang loudly from the distant village.
Alarm bells.
The mercenaries cursed immediately.
"We've been spotted!"
"Move!"
Torches appeared faintly in the distance.
The mercenary leader looked back toward Aldreic once more.
Then smiled slightly.
"There's something wrong with your eyes, boy."
He grabbed Aldreic roughly by the shoulder.
"But I like it."
Aldreic barely resisted as the mercenary dragged him toward the ship.
Behind him—
his parents remained motionless beneath the rain.
The house burned faintly in the distance.
And somewhere deep inside his chest—
something important had ended.
While something far darker—
had just begun.