The next morning, the Bastion seemed to breathe with effort. The torches had been extinguished, but the smoke and ash from the battles lingered, enveloping the central square in a gray haze. The inhabitants went about their tasks, but every movement was measured, every step heavy with tension. Eyes turned toward me, full of expectation. The whispers I had ignored until now seemed to crystallize into a silent judgment. I was no longer just Kael. I was the heir of the Bastion. And that title was a burden heavier than any weapon.
Lina joined me at dawn, silent but alert. She had never seemed so serious.
— You know what you're doing is dangerous, she whispered.
— I have no choice, I replied, breath shallow.
I made my way to the north wall, the heavy wooden gate opening onto the Dead Valley. The recruits I had chosen to accompany me followed behind, faces tense, movements cautious. Each step toward the outside world brought me closer to a place I had never truly known—a world where a single mistake could cost lives.
Beyond the walls, the valley stretched, desolate and silent. Blackened trees, twisted like stone hands, seemed to watch our every move. Ruins of ancient cities emerged here and there, remnants of a dead civilization and a past we could only imagine. I gripped my spear tightly. Everything here radiated hostility.
— Kael… whispered Lina, do you see that column of smoke?
I looked toward the horizon. A thin column of smoke rose, barely noticeable, but enough to signal that there were still survivors… or threats. We advanced slowly, every sound amplified by the valley's silence. The crack of a branch made me jump.
Suddenly, a figure leapt from the shadow of a tree. Its white, glowing eyes locked onto our group. I raised my spear instinctively, but my fingers trembled.
— Step back! Lina shouted, striking the creature with precise accuracy.
She was fast—too fast for me. The creature slid across the ground and vanished into the mist. My heart raced. I had never felt fear like this before. And yet, I had to remain calm. One mistake could be fatal.
We continued, finding traces of survivors and worrying signs of a larger presence to the north. I began to understand that survival was one thing—but understanding the threat was another. Every choice could mean life or death.
The return to the Bastion was silent. The sun was high, and the walls seemed taller than ever, immense and reassuring, but I knew safety was an illusion. The weight of my responsibilities pressed down on me. I finally understood what my father meant when he spoke of "will" and "patience."
That day marked me deeply. I was no longer a boy living in the shadow of his father. I had to begin thinking, acting, deciding. And even if I wasn't ready… I had no choice.