Chapter Two: Remnants of Light
The morning in the village of Toter was unlike any other.
Mist hung thick over the burned fields, covering the earth in a thin layer of moisture. It mingled with the scent of dried grass and the ashes of yesterday, making the very air feel heavy and suffocating.
Amid the devastation, Kaelen sat motionless, his eyes wide as though they were trying to swallow the entire scene before him. His hands trembled as he clutched two small tomatoes that had somehow survived the destruction of the garden.
He raised them toward the sky, his voice filled with shock and despair.
— Impossible!
His grandfather heard his cry and immediately abandoned his breakfast, driven by an instinct he could not ignore. He hurried toward him with heavy steps.
He found his grandson kneeling on the ground, tears slowly running down his cheeks.
The old man sat beside him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
— Sometimes, Kaelen... life strikes us with things we cannot bear. But it can also teach us lessons, if we have the patience to endure them.
Kaelen remained silent.
His grandfather, however, began examining the scorched ground. Sweat slowly trickled down his cheek, and the confusion on his face was impossible to hide.
He muttered to himself:
— A fire... without a smell or a trace.
Kaelen raised his head. Anger and heartbreak fought within his eyes.
— Lessons? Who destroyed our farm after all the work we put into it? I'll find them... and I'll make an example out of them!
His grandfather sighed and lifted his gaze toward the gray sky.
— The herders, my boy. They come at night and take advantage of the darkness... afraid of wolves or beasts.
Kaelen shook his head stubbornly, a hot tear sliding down his cheek.
— Don't talk about beasts... I'm not a child anymore. I don't believe those stories.
His grandfather gave him a sad smile, as though Kaelen's words had brought back the weight of distant years.
— They do exist. Beyond the great walls built by King Rei the First. There, in the heart of the Kingdom of Krendalia, where no one dares to face the shadows of the night.
Kaelen frowned and slammed his fist against the table.
— Krendalia? The kingdom that keeps parents away from their children in the name of duty?
Silence fell between them for a moment.
His grandfather looked at him, sorrow evident in his eyes.
— Don't be so harsh on your parents, my boy. They work day and night to keep this village alive.
Kaelen said nothing.
He remained seated for a while, broken by everything that had happened, before finally standing.
— I'm going to rest for a while...
He entered the house and closed the door behind him.
His grandfather remained where he was, lost in an old memory.
A memory from years ago, when Kaelen was still a child with bright, eager eyes, constantly following him around.
— Teach me swordsmanship, Grandpa!
And his answer had always been the same.
— You're still too young... Soon, my boy.
A faint smile appeared on the old man's face.
Then he whispered:
— It's time, Kaelen...
He walked to the door and knocked softly.
There was no answer.
He knocked again, then spoke in a voice filled with an unusual tenderness.
— Are you ready to learn?
After a few moments, the door slowly opened.
Kaelen appeared as though nothing had happened. He placed a small helmet on his head and grabbed his wooden sword.
But when he looked into his grandfather's eyes, he noticed something he had not seen in them for a long time.
He raised his sword high, excitement spreading across his face.
— I'm reaaadyyy!
In the front yard, the two stood facing each other.
His grandfather settled into a firm stance while Kaelen grinned stubbornly.
— Before I begin training you, I want to see what you already know.
Kaelen answered eagerly:
— Then prepare yourself... here I come!
He shot forward like an arrow.
His grandfather shifted lightly, avoiding the strike, then countered with a swift wooden swing.
But Kaelen surprised him with a sudden movement and knocked the wooden sword from his grandfather's hand.
The sword flew through the air before landing on the ground and rolling away.
His grandfather froze.
His eyes widened in disbelief, as though he had seen something he never expected.
He stared at Kaelen for a long moment.
— Kaelen... you...
He stopped.
For an instant, it was as though another face had flashed through his memory.
— You...
Then his expression suddenly changed, and he shouted dramatically:
— Have you been training with Master Gabriel?!
Kaelen raised his sword triumphantly and shouted back:
— Of course! And thanks to him, I defeated you, you senile old man!
The grandfather's face reddened with anger.
— Who are you calling senile, you arrogant brat?! Get back here!
Kaelen burst into laughter and ran away while his grandfather grabbed his cane and chased after him.
Laughter filled the yard.
It was a rare moment of warmth... in a world that had begun to fall apart around them.
But it did not last long.
Suddenly, the screams of women echoed from outside.
— They're here!
Another voice cried out excitedly:
— The heroesssss!
The grandfather stopped.
He raised his head toward the road leading into the village.
Crowds were gathering there, people rushing toward the road as though they were welcoming a sacred procession.
Cheers rose through the air, filling the square with noise.
The grandfather turned around to tell his grandson...
But the yard was empty.
Only the wooden sword remained on the ground.
And the door to the house was still open.
The grandfather froze.
Then his voice came out trembling.
— Kaelen...?
No one answered.