The ship was small, black-hulled, and named Shadow's Maw.
It sliced through icy waves like a dagger through silk. Kaelan stood at the bow, his woolen cloak snapping in the wind, eyes fixed on the horizon where sky bled into storm.
Behind him, Lord Ryn leaned against the mast, arms crossed, watching.
"You haven't eaten," he said.
"I'm not hungry."
Ryn tossed him a strip of dried venison. "Hunger doesn't care what you feel. Eat. Tomorrow, you'll need strength."
Kaelan caught it but didn't bite.
"What's on the island?"
"Ruins. Wolves. Ghosts of dragon riders. And men who test boys like you… until they break or become steel."
A long silence. The sea groaned beneath the hull.
"Will I see my father again?"
Ryn's gaze turned sharp as flint.
"Only if you earn the right to stand before him as an equal. Not a son. A rival."
Kaelan finally chewed. The meat was tough, smoky, real.
That night, the storm struck.
Waves rose like black mountains. The ship bucked, timbers screaming. Sailors scrambled, ropes lashing like whips.
Kaelan clung to the railing, salt stinging his eyes.
Then—crack!
The mainmast splintered. A sailor slipped, dangling over the churning abyss.
Without thinking, Kaelan lunged. Grabbed his wrist.
For three heartbeats, he held the man's weight—six years old, arms trembling, boots sliding on wet wood.
Ryn appeared beside him. Didn't help. Just watched.
"Let go," he said calmly. "He's dead either way."
Kaelan gritted his teeth. Pulled with all his might.
The sailor collapsed onto the deck, gasping.
Ryn knelt, gripped Kaelan's chin, forced him to meet his eyes.
"Foolish," he growled. "Mercy gets you killed out here."
"Then I'll learn to be strong and merciful," Kaelan shot back.
Something flickered in Ryn's storm-gray eyes. Almost respect.
By dawn, the storm passed.
On the eastern horizon, land rose from the mist—jagged cliffs, black pines, and a single peak wreathed in eternal snow.
Valryke Isle.
"That's where your real training begins," Ryn said. "First lesson starts at sunset."
"What is it?"
"A duel."
Kaelan frowned. "Against who?"
"Me."
"But I've never held a sword!"
"Then you'll lose. And bleed. And tomorrow, you'll try again." Ryn's voice hardened. "In this world, boy, power isn't given—it's taken. And the first thing you must take… is your first victory."
As the ship neared shore, Kaelan touched the frostwolf locket at his chest.
Somewhere in those ruins, a cracked egg pulsed with faint blue light.
And far to the southeast, beyond maps and memory, a cursed island stirred—its shores black with things that hungered for flesh.
But that was a threat for another day.
Today, a boy would learn to fight.