The morning sun broke through the clouds, casting golden light over the abandoned fort.
Kael stood on the highest tower, his cloak flapping in the wind, eyes scanning the horizon. Below, his small group moved about—cleaning weapons, inspecting walls, and setting up temporary shelters. Every glance reminded him that the road ahead would not be easy.
"This place isn't much yet," Kael said quietly, "but it will become more than anyone expects."
Ryn walked beside him, adjusting the strap of his sword.
"You're thinking like a strategist already. They're not fighters, Kael. Not even close."
Kael turned to him.
"I know. That's why training begins today."
He called Lyra and the others into the central courtyard. Their faces were tense, unsure of what was expected.
"From now on," Kael said, his voice steady, "this fort isn't just a shelter. It's a base. A place where loyalty matters more than fear. Where every choice can save lives—or cost them."
The group shifted nervously, but none left. They had chosen this path, and Kael would honor it.
"First lesson: control," Kael said, stepping forward and demonstrating a basic stance. "Strength without control is useless. One mistake and it could cost you your life."
Ryn circled the students, correcting grips, postures, and footwork.
"Defend yourself first. Then strike. Hesitation gets people killed."
The first few attempts were clumsy. Feet tripped over stones, arms swung wildly, and frustration flared. But Kael remained patient, demonstrating each movement slowly and precisely, letting them learn by doing.
Hours passed. Sweat dripped from their hair, mud smeared their clothes, but their movements grew sharper, more confident. Every block, every dodge, every careful strike carried the weight of survival.
By evening, Kael watched them pant, mud-streaked and exhausted. They could block a strike, dodge a swing, and hold a stance. They were not fighters yet, but they had begun.
"This is only the beginning," Kael said, voice soft but firm.
"Tomorrow, we train again. And the day after that… we prepare for the first wave my father will send."
Ryn nodded, sheathing his sword.
"Then we fight not just for ourselves, but for everyone who chooses to follow us."
Kael looked across the fort, the cliffs, and his small band of companions. The storm had passed.
But the real battle—the one that would test loyalty, courage, and strength—was only just beginning.
(To be continued)