Hello?" My voice cracked. "Anyone here?"
Nothing.
Inside, the shop was empty. Blue walls. Wooden counter covered in a thin layer of dust. Sunlight spilling through wide windows, illuminating floating dust motes. A single door behind the counter, slightly ajar.
I stepped closer, every instinct screaming at me to leave.
"Anyone here?" I called again.
Silence.
I opened the door.
It slammed shut behind me.
I spun, grabbing the handle. Locked.
"Shit."
The floor vanished.
I dropped.
Air rushed past me, stealing my breath. My stomach lurched as I slid downward, twisting, spinning through darkness, before slamming onto solid ground with brutal force.
"Ow!" I groaned, rolling onto my side. Every bone in my body ached.
I sat up slowly, looking around.
Underground. Dim lights flickering along stone walls. Cold air that smelled ancient. A wide platform surrounded by monitors and humming machines that looked like they belonged in a sci-fi movie.
"What is this place?" I whispered.
A breath brushed my ear.
I spun, scrambling backward.
The old man stood behind me, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable.
"You," I snapped, fear and anger crashing together in my chest. "What did you do to me? What is this mark?"
He only stared, his dark eyes seeming to look through me.
"Answer me!" My voice echoed off the stone walls.
Finally, he turned away. "You're here at last. Took you long enough, young Dragon Keeper."
"That explains nothing," I said, my hands clenching into fists.
He walked forward without looking back, his footsteps silent despite the hard floor. "Come. Follow me."
I hesitated, every instinct warring inside me.
"So impatient," he added calmly. "But you'll understand soon enough. They always do."
Every instinct told me I'd just stepped into something ancient and dangerous.
And there was no turning back now.
"What do you mean I'll understand soon?" I snapped, jogging to keep pace with him through the underground halls. My footsteps echoed too loud in the narrow passage, bouncing off stone walls that looked like they'd been carved centuries ago. "Why can't you just tell me now?"
He didn't slow down, his pace steady and unhurried.
"Why are children these days so desperate to rush the truth?" he said, his voice carrying that same infuriating calm. "As if knowing it sooner will make it kinder. As if understanding will erase fear."
I clenched my jaw, frustration building. "If you're not going to explain anything, then at least tell me your name."
He stopped.
The silence hit harder than the walking ever did. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer.
"My name," he said at last, turning his head just enough for me to see one sharp eye, "is Sensei Shu."
"Sensei of what?" I asked.
His eye gleamed in the dim light. "Of survival."
Then he faced forward again. "Now stop asking questions you're not ready to hear answers to."
We moved on, the tunnel gradually widening. The air grew warmer, and I could hear something ahead voices, maybe? Movement?
The tunnel opened into a massive chamber that stole my breath.
Wooden floors stretched out beneath hanging banners, their symbols faded by time but still visible a dragon in red, another in blue, one in brown, one in light blue. Training mats lined the room, worn thin by what must have been generations of footsteps. Weapons hung on the walls swords, staffs, daggers, kunai all looking ancient but perfectly maintained. The air felt heavy here. Old. Like the walls themselves were watching, waiting.
A dojo.
"Sit," Sensei Shu commanded.
I lowered myself onto the floor, crossing my legs awkwardly. He sat across from me with effortless control, folding his legs like this was the most natural place in the world for him to be.
For a moment, he just studied me, his dark eyes unreadable.
"Now," he said, voice steady and measured, "tell me your name."
"William," I said. "William Ashborne."
He nodded once, slowly. "William… you are a descendant of a Dragon Keeper."
My chest tightened. The mark on my arm burned faintly, like it was responding to his words.