The train ride lasted only fifteen minutes, but to Shakes, it felt much longer. The rhythmic clatter of steel against rail lulled the cabin into a meditative silence. He stared out the window at the passing landscape, but his mind wasn't on the scenery. His thoughts were far away, tangled in the weight of his past and the uncertain future ahead.
When the train finally screeched to a halt, he and Tharion stepped out into a quiet, misty village nestled among rolling green hills. The air was thick with fog, and the scent of wet earth and pine filled Shakes' lungs. A distant stream trickled somewhere in the landscape, but it was the stillness of the place that caught his attention. It felt like time itself slowed down here. The village, Kaelmor, was an ancient name whispered through generations.
Shakes glanced around, his eyes scanning the vast expanse of the area. The village was surrounded by low mountains and dense forests, a cradle of nature far removed from the bustling cities he had known. The only sound was the soft hum of nature—the rustling of leaves in the breeze, the occasional birdcall, and the distant rush of water.
He followed Tharion as the old man led him toward the heart of the village. His gaze finally settled on the temple in the distance. It was a towering structure, dark and imposing, with moss clinging to the stone walls and runes carved into the ancient stone. A large iron gate guarded the entrance, and in front of it, dozens of people practiced. Some sparred with wooden staffs, while others performed intricate martial routines. A few stood motionless, eyes closed, their bodies seemingly weightless as they meditated.
Tharion turned to Shakes. "Come. You'll meet your master inside."
Shakes didn't respond, but his legs moved of their own accord, following the old man toward the temple's massive doors. The air felt thicker as they approached, the weight of ancient knowledge pressing down on him. The doors groaned as they were pushed open, revealing a vast interior. Inside, the temperature dropped, and the air smelled of aged wood and incense. Lanterns hung from stone pillars, casting flickering shadows on the cool, dimly lit walls.
As they walked deeper into the temple, the sound of chanting grew louder.
Then, they found him—Master Shiin. He stood at the center of a circle of students seated on straw mats, instructing them in meditation and sensory control. His sharp eyes swept over the students, and Shakes felt the weight of his gaze even from across the room.
A boy in the circle seemed to be struggling. He was trembling, his eyes darting around nervously. Master Shiin's expression remained calm, but there was a sharpness to him that was almost unsettling. He approached the boy and tapped his back lightly with a wooden staff.
"Focus, or I'll deal with you myself," Shiin snapped, his voice low but firm.
The boy immediately straightened, his breath catching in his throat. Shiin didn't wait for a response but instead gestured for the others to continue. "Keep your focus. Focus is the key. If your mind drifts, so will your path."
Tharion and Shakes approached. Before Tharion could speak, Shiin's head turned slowly. His eyes locked onto Shakes, and for a moment, the room seemed to still. Something about Shakes radiated power—raw, untamed, and dangerous. The students around them shifted uncomfortably, their own sensitive perceptions picking up on the aura that clung to him. It was unlike anything they had ever felt—this wasn't just power. This was rage. Pure, undiluted, and brimming with potential. It simmered beneath the surface, and no one seemed willing to acknowledge it out loud.
Master Shiin's gaze never wavered, though his eyes darkened with a hint of caution. He studied Shakes carefully, as if weighing him like a seasoned scholar might examine a dangerous artifact. There was no fear in his eyes, but there was recognition—recognition of the force within Shakes that could either save or destroy.
"Hey, Shiin. It's me," Tharion called out, breaking the silence.
Shiin turned toward Tharion, his expression softening just a fraction. "Ah, Tharion. I wasn't expecting you back so soon." Then, his eyes flicked back to Shakes. "Come," he said, his tone shifting to a more formal cadence. "We'll talk inside."
Tharion nodded, and the two followed Shiin through a narrow corridor, its stone walls lined with more of the same arcane runes. The air was cooler here, and the sounds of the temple faded into a quiet hum. The deeper they went, the more the sensation of weightlessness surrounded Shakes. It felt like every step was a step further into a place where the rules of the outside world no longer applied.
They arrived at a modest room, sparsely furnished. A low, wooden table sat in the center, surrounded by cushions. Shakes and Tharion sat, while Shiin lingered for a moment before joining them. A lamp flickered in the corner, casting soft shadows against the walls. Shakes' sword, Severflame, lay beside him, its presence both comforting and unsettling.
Shiin's eyes flicked to the weapon. "Is this the boy?"
Tharion nodded. "Yes. He begins training today."
Shiin studied Shakes carefully, his intense eyes narrowing as he took in the boy's every detail. His expression was inscrutable. "You better be in shape. There's no time to waste. Tharion tells me you're the one destined to bring peace to this world. The light in the dark."
Shakes met his gaze, but he said nothing. His silence spoke volumes—his thoughts were far from peaceful. His past weighed heavily on him, and the future felt like a burden he was too tired to carry.
"Let's see if potential is enough," Shiin finally said, breaking the silence. He rose from the table and motioned for Shakes to follow. "Your training begins now."
Later, Shakes was led to a small room within the temple. It was simple, almost austere, with only a bedroll on the floor, a lamp, and a wooden chest for his belongings. The room was clean but sparse, a reflection of the discipline that Shiin sought to instill in his students. This would be Shakes' home for now, a place where he would be stripped of everything familiar and forced to confront the demons within.
He was given white training clothes and a black belt, a symbol of the beginning of his journey. After changing, he emerged, still carrying Severflame on his back, though he knew that he would not be allowed to keep it for long.
Shiin eyed the weapon as Shakes stepped into the courtyard. "You have something on your back," Shiin observed, his voice cold and precise. "Where do you intend to keep it?"
Shakes didn't answer immediately, his fingers brushing the hilt of the sword. The weight of it had been his constant companion for so long, he couldn't imagine parting with it. But before he could respond, Tharion stepped in.
"I'll hold it for him," Tharion said, his voice calm but firm.
Reluctantly, Shakes handed the sword to the old man, watching as Tharion took it and disappeared into the temple. Shakes stayed behind, following Shiin and the other students outside. They gathered in a line on the grass, eyes closed, their posture straight as they entered a state of silent meditation.
Shakes reluctantly followed suit, crossing his legs and closing his eyes. But inside, there was no peace. No calm. There was only darkness, a void where his thoughts and feelings collided in a chaotic storm. His mind was far from still, and the idea of feeling instead of thinking irritated him. He could barely sit still long enough for the meditation to begin.
"Is this training… or a nap class?" he muttered inwardly, frustration gnawing at him. His anger, still bubbling under the surface, seemed to taunt him, pushing him further away from the quietude that the others had achieved.
From a distance, Shiin observed, his eyes never leaving Shakes. "There's a lot about this boy," he said quietly to Tharion.
Tharion watched Shakes, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. "He has potential. More than I thought."
Shiin's expression didn't change, but his lips twisted into a thin smile. "Let's see if potential is enough."
For Shakes, this was only the beginning.
To be continued....