The sun had just begun to rise when Kael woke up. In the room, Elf, Rin, and Nika were already quietly moving around, preparing breakfast. The old man was already standing by the door, leaning on his staff.
“Ready?” he asked in a calm, confident voice.
Kael nodded.
“Yes, I am ready.”
The old man smiled.
“Then let’s begin.”
They went out into the small yard in front of the house. The old man showed Kael how to properly hold the sword, how to keep his stance, how to move. At first, the movements felt heavy and awkward to Kael. But the old man was patient.
“Don’t rush,” he said. “Power without control is a waste.”
Kael turned the sword in his hands, repeating the movements again and again. Sweat ran down his forehead, his muscles ached, but he kept going.
While he was training, the old man’s granddaughter quietly watched from the side. Young, with a gentle look, she smiled slightly every time Kael made a correct movement. Sometimes she brought him tea or food, always with a soft smile and blushing cheeks.
“Here, rest a little,” she said once, placing a small bowl of soup in front of him.
“Thank you…” Kael replied quietly, shyly catching her gaze.
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She only smiled and turned away, slightlyblushing.
Day after day, Kael repeated the exercises. The old man showed new sword techniques, taught him how to use other weapons, explained tactics and attention to detail. Every time Kael did something right, the granddaughter smiled happily, and it gave him new motivation to continue.
“You’re learning faster than I expected,” the old man said, watching him in the evening.
“I just want to learn…” Kael replied quietly.
Night fell over the house, and Kael went to sleep again with the feeling that he was taking the first step toward his power.
The morning began with a strike.
“Raise your sword,” the old man said. “And watch. Not the blade — me.”
Kael barely had time to react. The old man’s wooden sword easily knocked the weapon out of his hands. It fell to the ground with a dull sound.
“You think too much,” the old man said. “The body must understand before the head.”
Kael picked up the sword and took his stance again. This time he was more attentive. The movements became more precise, the steps more confident. The old man nodded, but did not smile.
“Better. But still slow.”
They trained for a long time. Strikes, blocks, dodges. Sometimes Kael fell, sometimes he managed to defend himself. With each time, he felt his body begin to obey him.
During a short break, he again noticed food beside him. A small plate with something hot and a neatly folded cloth to wipe his hands.
He looked around.
She was standing at the door of the house, as if about to leave. Seeing that he was looking, she quickly lowered her eyes and disappeared inside.
Kael quietly exhaled.
“You noticed,” the old man said without looking at him.
Kael said nothing.
In the second half of the day, the training became harsher. The old man attacked suddenly, without warning. Kael barely managed to block, but stayed on his feet.
“That’s it,” the old man said. “Now you react.”
By evening, his hands were trembling from exhaustion. Kael sat down on the ground, placing the sword beside him.
He did not notice when she appeared nearby.
The plate was carefully placed next to him. He raised his head — she was standing too close, closer than ever before.
She froze.
“I…” she began and immediately fell silent.
Her face flushed. She took a step back.
“Thank you,” Kael said quietly.
She nodded without raising her eyes and quickly walked away.
Kael looked for a long time in the direction where she disappeared.
In the evening, the old man said:
“The main power is what is inside you.”
Kael did not understand at once.
But when he lay down to sleep, there was a strange calm inside him. Silence. And the feeling that not only the path of a warrior awaited him ahead.

