Chapter 02: The Weight of Strength
The fire crackled quietly in the remains of the ruined camp.
Izek sat in silence, legs crossed beside Raian's resting body. The night air had turned cold, the stars spread wide above them, yet the blood on his fists still felt warm.
He hadn't cleaned them.
He couldn't.
Not yet.
Raian lay beneath a salvaged blanket, his chest wrapped tightly in bandages, breaths shallow but steady. His skin was pale, and the burn of battle hadn't yet left his expression.
Izek's green eyes stared into the fire, unmoving. His fists trembled now — not from fear, but from what he had felt.
The power inside him… it wasn't just energy. It had a will. It didn't trickle in like water. It roared through him like a flood, demanding release.
It scared him.
"...Was it really me?" he whispered into the night. "Was that really… me?"
Raian stirred beside him. "Unless I've started hallucinating fists that glow like dying stars," he muttered, "yeah… that was you."
Izek turned. "You shouldn't talk. You're still—"
"I'm fine," Raian said, forcing a half-smile. "Thanks to you."
There was a long pause.
Raian sat up slowly, wincing but alive. His eyes scanned the fire, the dark horizon, the signs of death left behind.
"You felt it, didn't you?" Raian asked. "The weight. The pressure. Like your own soul was trying to tear itself out."
Izek nodded slowly. "It wasn't like training. It wasn't calm or centered. It was… rage. Pain. Desperation."
"That's your Resonant Flow," Raian said. "Yours isn't smooth. It's not elegant. It's violent. Unpredictable. But damn if it's not strong."
"I could've killed all of them," Izek said. His voice dropped. "And I wouldn't have stopped."
Raian leaned back, staring into the stars. "Yeah. That's the part you have to learn to master."
---
The next morning…
They buried the caravan victims in silence.
Izek carved rough names into the wood markers when they could identify them. When they couldn't, he just wrote "Seen. Remembered."
Raian stood behind him, quiet. When Izek finished the last grave, he turned.
"Raian," he said, "what are we doing this for?"
Raian frowned. "The Blade?"
"No. All of it. Training. Strength. Power. What's the point if we can't save people in time?"
Raian looked off toward the hills. "We're not saviors, Izek. We're just boys trying to prove something."
"That's not enough anymore," Izek muttered.
Raian raised an eyebrow. "You're changing."
"You're not?" Izek challenged. "You said it yourself — I finally awakened, but it took someone almost dying in front of me. I don't want to keep chasing some weapon if all we're doing is leaving graves behind."
Raian's jaw clenched slightly. "Don't pretend you're better than this now. You wanted power too. You wanted to stand equal with me."
"I still do," Izek said, "but maybe not just for the same reasons anymore."
Raian was silent.
Then he said, "We made a vow. We find the Blade. We test ourselves. I'm not backing down from that."
"Neither am I," Izek replied. "But if we get to the end of this and all we've done is become stronger versions of who we used to be… was it worth it?"
Raian didn't answer. But his silence said more than words.
---
Later that day…
They resumed their journey across the dunes.
A light breeze picked up. Izek adjusted his travel sash, hands bandaged again. He still wasn't used to the glow that pulsed faintly beneath his skin — the residual hum of the awakening hadn't faded.
Raian walked beside him, slower than usual but steady. He hadn't said much since that morning. Something had shifted between them — not broken, but… strained.
Ahead, a low outpost village began to form in the distance. Mudstone houses, faded banners, and watchtowers buried half in sand.
As they approached, two armed guards stepped out.
"Travelers?" one asked.
"Passing through," Izek said. "We're not here for trouble."
The guards exchanged a look. "You might want to keep moving. There's been… strange movement near the cliffs. Traders have gone missing. Locals say they've seen shadows with too many eyes."
Raian narrowed his gaze. "Human?"
The guard shook his head. "Not all of them. Some say it's the Hollowkind. Creatures that don't die unless you crush the spirit inside them."
The guard's partner added, "Most of the mercs we sent didn't come back. If you're heading toward the blade's path, you'll be walking straight into their den."
Raian and Izek shared a look.
"Then I guess," Izek said, "we'll find out what we're really made of."
---
That night, after settling into the village's outskirts…
Raian sat alone outside their hut, staring at his sword. He turned it over in his hands, slowly, silently.
For the first time in years, he didn't feel certain about where they were going.
His ideal had always been simple: become strong enough to lead. Earn the right to inherit his father's legacy. Protect others by standing above them.
But now…
Izek had changed.
And Raian was starting to wonder if maybe strength alone wouldn't be enough anymore.
The blade wasn't just a weapon anymore. It was a symbol — one that might choose based on more than just skill.
Raian's fingers tightened around the hilt.
"I won't fall behind," he whispered to himself. "Not even to you, Izek."
TO BE CONTINUED