The first light of dawn slowly spread across Dhulmir Forest.
Pale sunlight slipped between the ancient trees, painting the mist in shades of silver and gold. The darkness that had ruled the forest throughout the night gradually retreated, taking the shadows of the Kazgar Wolves with it.
Razan lay on his back in the grass.
He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this exhausted.
Every part of his body hurt.
His shoulders burned.
His legs felt like they no longer belonged to him.
The wounds across his back and thigh throbbed with every heartbeat.
Even breathing was uncomfortable.
Yet he was smiling.
He had survived.
The thought repeated itself in his mind.
I survived.
For the first time, those words didn't sound like a desperate wish.
They were a fact.
Razan slowly turned his head.
Zailthar stood several meters away, looking toward the forest where the Kazgar Wolves had disappeared.
The Black Dragon Tyrant seemed untouched by the night's events.
Not a single scratch marked his armor.
His posture remained relaxed.
His golden eyes were calm.
Razan couldn't help but feel irritated.
"Do you ever get tired?"
Zailthar glanced at him.
"No."
Razan sighed.
"Of course."
He tried to sit up.
Pain immediately shot through his shoulder.
"Ah!"
He dropped back down.
Zailthar looked at him.
"Don't move."
Razan frowned.
"You could have told me that before I tried."
"I assumed your intelligence had improved during the night."
Razan stared at him.
"That was unnecessary."
"It was accurate."
Razan muttered something under his breath.
Zailthar ignored him.
He walked toward the area where the wolves had disappeared.
Razan watched him.
"Where are you going?"
"Checking the territory."
"Why?"
"Because something is wrong."
Razan's expression became serious.
"What?"
Zailthar didn't answer.
He disappeared between the trees.
Razan sighed.
"Always mysterious."
He looked down at his hand.
The dagger was still there.
He had held onto it throughout the night.
The blade was dirty.
A thin layer of blood covered its edge.
Razan stared at it.
He remembered the two wolves he had killed.
He hadn't wanted to.
He hadn't gone into the forest looking for a fight.
But they had been trying to kill him.
He had been forced to choose between them and himself.
Razan slowly closed his fingers around the handle.
This is what survival really means.
It wasn't glorious.
It wasn't like the stories told by traveling bards.
There were no cheering crowds.
No great victories.
No songs.
There was only fear.
Pain.
Blood.
And the decision to keep moving when every part of your body wanted to stop.
Razan looked toward the trees.
Weeks ago, he would have considered the night impossible.
Now...
He had survived it.
Not because he was strong.
Because he adapted.
He remembered Zailthar's words.
You cannot always win by being stronger.
Razan smiled faintly.
"Maybe I'm finally starting to understand."
Zailthar returned nearly twenty minutes later.
His expression was more serious than before.
Razan noticed immediately.
"What happened?"
"Nothing."
Razan raised an eyebrow.
"You don't look like nothing happened."
Zailthar stopped beside him.
"The wolves have moved."
"Moved?"
"They abandoned part of their territory."
Razan frowned.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Zailthar crouched.
His golden eyes examined Razan's wounds.
"Can you stand?"
Razan looked offended.
"After everything I went through last night?"
"That wasn't an answer."
Razan sighed.
"I can try."
He placed his hands against the ground.
Slowly, he pushed himself up.
His arms shook.
His legs trembled.
For a moment, he thought he would collapse.
But he stayed upright.
Zailthar watched without helping.
Razan took one step.
Pain shot through his thigh.
He clenched his teeth.
Another step.
His body protested.
Another.
He remained standing.
Zailthar nodded.
"Good."
Razan looked at him.
"That's all?"
"You expected applause?"
"Maybe a little."
"No."
Razan sighed.
"You're impossible."
"Walk."
"Where?"
"Back to camp."
Razan looked around.
"How far?"
"Several hours."
Razan's jaw dropped.
"Several hours?"
"You survived fourteen Kazgar Wolves."
"Yes."
"So walking several hours should be easy."
Razan stared at him.
"You have a strange understanding of the word 'easy.'"
Zailthar began walking.
Razan followed.
The journey back was slow.
Much slower than usual.
Razan's body refused to cooperate.
Every few minutes, he had to stop.
Sometimes he leaned against a tree.
Sometimes he sat on a rock and waited for the pain to ease.
Zailthar never complained.
He simply waited.
But he also never carried Razan.
After the third rest, Razan finally asked:
"Why didn't you help me more last night?"
Zailthar continued walking.
"You already know the answer."
"I want to hear it."
"Because you needed to learn."
Razan frowned.
"I could have died."
"Yes."
"That's your answer?"
"Yes."
Razan stopped.
Zailthar continued several steps before noticing.
Razan stared at him.
"Do you really think training should involve letting your student die?"
Zailthar turned.
"You weren't my student."
Razan frowned.
"Then what am I?"
Zailthar was silent for a moment.
"Someone I am observing."
Razan blinked.
"Observing?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Zailthar looked at him.
"Because you are unusual."
Razan waited.
But Zailthar said nothing else.
Razan eventually sighed.
"You really enjoy leaving sentences unfinished."
"Perhaps."
Razan continued walking.
"Unusual how?"
Zailthar didn't answer.
This time, Razan didn't ask again.
He had learned that forcing answers from Zailthar was usually pointless.
They reached the camp shortly before midday.
The small clearing looked exactly as they had left it.
The remains of the fire were scattered across the ground.
Razan lowered himself beside the fire pit.
He was exhausted.
Zailthar gathered several pieces of wood and started a fire.
Razan watched.
"You're cooking?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"Food."
Razan stared at him.
"I figured that much."
Zailthar pulled several strips of meat from a small pack.
Razan's eyes widened.
"You had food this entire time?"
"Yes."
"And you let me spend the entire night running around the forest?"
"Yes."
Razan stared at him in disbelief.
"You could have given me some."
"You weren't hungry enough."
"I was fighting for my life!"
"You survived."
Razan rubbed his forehead.
"Sometimes I wonder why I follow you."
Zailthar placed the meat over the fire.
"Because you want strength."
Razan became quiet.
That was true.
He wanted strength more than anything.
Not simply to defeat the people who had humiliated him.
Not simply to become powerful.
He wanted control over his own life.
He didn't want to be helpless again.
The memory of his mother entered his mind.
His expression softened.
His mother had always told him that being weak wasn't something to be ashamed of.
But she had also taught him that giving up was a choice.
Razan stared into the fire.
I didn't give up.
He had almost died.
But he had kept moving.
That mattered.
After eating, Zailthar handed Razan a small cloth and a container of water.
"Clean your wounds."
Razan looked at him.
"You know, you could actually say something encouraging once in a while."
"I just fed you."
"That's not encouragement."
"It should be."
Razan laughed quietly.
Despite himself, he was beginning to understand Zailthar.
The man didn't praise people easily.
He didn't offer comforting words.
He didn't believe in empty encouragement.
If Zailthar said someone had done well, he meant it.
That made the rare praise more valuable.
Razan cleaned the blood from his shoulder.
The wounds were painful, but none appeared deep enough to be life-threatening.
The largest wound was across his thigh.
Zailthar examined it.
"You were lucky."
Razan looked down.
"Because it wasn't deeper?"
"Because the wolf missed the artery."
Razan's expression darkened.
"That's your way of saying I was stupid."
"Correct."
Razan sighed.
"Fair."
Zailthar wrapped the wound.
Razan noticed something.
"You're actually good at this."
"I've had centuries of practice."
Razan looked at him.
"Centuries?"
Zailthar paused.
Razan immediately noticed.
"Wait."
Zailthar continued wrapping the bandage.
"I said nothing."
"You definitely said centuries."
"No."
"You did."
"You are imagining things."
Razan stared at him.
"Are you really centuries old?"
Zailthar tied the bandage.
"Next question."
Razan smiled.
"So you are."
Zailthar stood.
"Training begins again tomorrow."
Razan's smile disappeared.
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"I nearly died last night."
"And?"
"I need rest."
"You have today."
Razan stared at him.
"One day?"
"One day."
Razan fell backward.
"I hate training."
Zailthar walked away.
"No, you don't."
Razan looked at him.
The man didn't turn around.
"You're beginning to enjoy it."
Razan frowned.
He wanted to deny it.
But he couldn't.
A small smile appeared.
Maybe Zailthar was right.
That afternoon, Razan slept.
For the first time in weeks, he slept without training.
No sword.
No running.
No monsters.
No Zailthar.
But his dreams were not peaceful.
He found himself standing in darkness.
There was no ground beneath his feet.
No sky.
No forest.
Nothing.
Only endless blackness.
Razan looked around.
"Where am I?"
A faint sound answered.
Thump.
He froze.
Another.
Thump.
The same strange pulse he had felt near the ancient stone.
Razan looked down.
A faint red glow appeared beneath his feet.
Then countless points of light appeared around him.
Some were blue.
Some were white.
Some were red.
Some were completely black.
They floated in the darkness like stars.
Razan reached toward one.
The moment his fingers touched it—
A violent surge of energy entered his body.
He gasped.
Images flashed through his mind.
A wolf running through the forest.
Its muscles.
Its senses.
Its hunger.
Its fear.
Its memories.
Razan pulled his hand away.
"What was that?"
The light disappeared.
Then another appeared.
A voice whispered from somewhere beyond the darkness.
Take.
Razan froze.
Another whisper followed.
Consume.
His heart began pounding.
"No."
The darkness trembled.
Absorb.
Razan woke suddenly.
He sat upright.
His breathing was frantic.
The campfire had nearly burned out.
Night had returned.
He looked around.
Zailthar sat across from him.
The Black Dragon Tyrant was staring directly at him.
Razan wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Did I..."
Zailthar didn't speak.
Razan looked down at his hand.
The black mark was still there.
But now it was slightly larger.
A thin line extended from his palm toward his wrist.
Razan stared.
"What is this?"
Zailthar's expression became unreadable.
"Where did you see it?"
Razan looked at him.
"In my dream."
"Describe it."
Razan hesitated.
"Darkness."
Zailthar waited.
"There were lights."
"What kind?"
"I don't know."
"Try."
Razan closed his eyes.
"Some felt cold."
He opened them.
"Some felt hot."
Zailthar's eyes narrowed.
"And one..."
Razan paused.
"One felt alive."
Silence filled the clearing.
Zailthar slowly stood.
"Did you touch it?"
Razan nodded.
"What happened?"
"I saw something."
"What?"
Razan struggled to explain.
"A wolf."
Zailthar's expression changed.
Razan noticed.
"I saw its memories."
Zailthar said nothing.
"I felt what it felt."
Razan looked down at his palm.
"Then I heard a voice."
"What did it say?"
Razan swallowed.
"It told me to absorb."
The fire cracked.
Zailthar's golden eyes became colder.
"Did you?"
"No."
Zailthar relaxed slightly.
Razan frowned.
"Why does that matter?"
Zailthar didn't answer.
Instead, he walked toward the edge of the clearing.
Razan followed him with his eyes.
"Zailthar."
The man stopped.
"What's happening to me?"
For several seconds, Zailthar remained silent.
Then he said:
"I don't know yet."
Razan looked at him, confused.
"You don't know?"
Zailthar shook his head.
"Not yet."
Razan looked down at his palm.
"Then what is happening to me?"
Zailthar's golden eyes remained fixed on the strange mark.
"I don't have enough answers."
"But you have seen something like this before?"
Zailthar was silent for a moment.
"Something similar."
Razan looked up sharply.
"Similar?"
"Not the same."
Zailthar turned away.
"But I know this."
His golden eyes focused on Razan's palm.
"Whatever is awakening inside you..."
He paused.
"...it isn't normal."
Razan felt a chill.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you must be careful."
"Careful of what?"
"Yourself."
Razan looked down at his hand.
The black mark seemed darker than before.
"What happens if I use it?"
Zailthar's voice became serious.
"I don't know."
"Then how am I supposed to control it?"
"You aren't."
Razan looked up sharply.
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
"Understand it first."
Zailthar walked back toward the fire.
"Power you don't understand is more dangerous than power you don't possess."
Razan remained silent.
He looked at his palm again.
Something was definitely happening.
He could feel it.
A strange hunger.
A pressure beneath his skin.
As though something inside him had been sleeping for a very long time.
And now...
It was beginning to wake.
The next morning, Zailthar changed the training.
There was no sword.
No wooden weapon.
No physical combat.
Razan stood in the middle of the clearing while Zailthar watched.
"What are we doing?"
"Nothing."
Razan frowned.
"What?"
"Stand."
"For how long?"
"Until I tell you to move."
Razan sighed.
"This is training?"
"Yes."
Razan crossed his arms.
"This seems pointless."
Zailthar's golden eyes sharpened.
"Your greatest weakness isn't your body."
Razan became quiet.
"It's your impatience."
Zailthar walked around him.
"You survived the wolves because you learned to observe."
He stopped behind Razan.
"But you still react too quickly."
Razan listened.
"Your body moves before your mind understands the situation."
Zailthar stepped in front of him.
"That is why you make mistakes."
Razan nodded slowly.
"So what do I do?"
"Nothing."
Razan sighed.
"Again with that."
"Close your eyes."
Razan obeyed.
"Listen."
The forest became silent.
Razan heard the wind.
Leaves.
Birds.
The crackling of the fire.
Then—
A tiny sound behind him.
Razan's eyes opened.
He turned.
A stone had been thrown toward him.
He barely dodged.
Zailthar looked unimpressed.
"Too slow."
Razan frowned.
"You threw a rock at me!"
"Yes."
"Without warning!"
"Exactly."
Razan rubbed his shoulder.
"How am I supposed to react to something I can't see?"
Zailthar stared at him.
"You heard it."
Razan went quiet.
He had.
He had heard the stone.
But he had reacted too late.
Zailthar threw another.
Razan ducked.
Another.
He stepped aside.
Another.
He moved backward.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The stones came faster.
Razan began moving without thinking.
He listened.
He felt the air shift.
He heard footsteps.
He noticed leaves moving.
His body reacted before his conscious mind could process everything.
After several minutes, Zailthar stopped.
Razan was breathing heavily.
But he hadn't been hit.
Zailthar nodded.
"Better."
Razan smiled.
"Finally."
"Don't get excited."
Razan's smile disappeared.
"Right."
Zailthar looked toward the forest.
"The wolves taught you survival."
He turned back.
"Now I will teach you awareness."
Razan nodded.
But neither of them noticed the faint black mark on Razan's palm.
It had stopped spreading.
For now.
Yet deep inside Razan's body, something had begun to change.
The power he had unknowingly touched during his encounter with the Kazgar Wolves had not disappeared.
It had merely gone quiet.
Waiting.
And somewhere deep within Dhulmir Forest, far beneath the roots of ancient trees, something else was waiting too.
Something that had felt Razan's presence.
Something that had heard the whisper of his awakening power.
And it was beginning to move.