The journey from the Village of Millbrook to the City of Valdoria took three days on foot. Kael had prepared everything thoroughly. Enough hardtack for the journey, a water bottle that could be refilled at any stream, and new boots Aunt Helena bought with her own savings. He carried only a small bag containing spare clothes, his father's rusted broken sword, and the recommendation letter from Helena.
The first day went smoothly. He passed a small village named Riversend, where a river flowing from the northern mountains met the lowlands. The sound of running water accompanied his steps, providing a strange calmness amidst the turmoil in his heart. He stopped briefly at the riverbank, washing his face with clear, cold water, and stared at his reflection on the surface. A familiar face, yet also unfamiliar. The lines of his face were growing sterner. His eyes sharper. He was no longer the little boy who cried in the night, waking from nightmares about his father.
That night, he stayed in a small inn in the village of Thornfield. The inn was modest, just a few rooms with straw beds and thin blankets. The innkeeper, an old man named Master Garrett, looked at him with curiosity as he paid with a silver coin left over from his savings.
"Heading to the city?" Garrett asked while cleaning a glass behind the worn wooden counter.
"Yes. To enlist in the military."
Garrett nodded with an unreadable expression. His eyes, which had seen many things in his life, looked at Kael with a mix of curiosity and concern. "How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
"Still young." Garrett put down the glass he was cleaning and looked at Kael seriously. "I used to be a soldier too, before my leg was ruined in a battle on the northern border. The war is not what you imagine. There is no glory there. Only death and suffering."
Kael looked at the old man calmly. "I know."
"You know?" Garrett let out a bitter laugh. "Young folks always say they know. But you don't know. Not until you see your friends die beside you. Not until you feel their blood on your hands. Not until you hear their screams at night, calling out names that will never be answered again."
Garrett's voice was heavy with experience that could not be taught through words. Yet Kael remained unshaken. He had already seen all of that. Perhaps not on the battlefield, but in his own village. In his own home.
"I have already seen death," Kael said in a flat voice. "My father died in front of my eyes. Slaughtered by a Shadow Drake while trying to protect his family."
Garrett fell silent. The wrinkles on his face seemed to deepen in an instant. He looked at Kael with an expression that shifted from cynical to something else. Respect, perhaps. Or the recognition that this young man was different from the rest. Not merely a youth seeking glory or adventure, but someone who had already seen the dark side of this world and chose to keep moving forward.
"Then you do know," Garrett finally said, his voice softer. He poured a glass of warm drink and handed it to Kael. "This is for your journey. Stay alert, young man. And don't die before your time."
Kael accepted the glass with a nod. "Thank you."
On the second day, Kael passed through a small forest separating Thornfield from the next village. Tall trees towered on both sides of the road, their branches intertwining overhead, creating a natural canopy that filtered the sunlight into patches of light on the ground. The chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves provided a tranquil accompaniment to his journey.
Yet amidst that tranquility, Kael remained vigilant. His hand occasionally touched the broken sword in his pocket, a habit formed over many years. He knew that demons didn't only appear at night. Some types could operate during the day, hiding in dark places waiting for unwary prey.
By the afternoon of the third day, the gates of the City of Valdoria finally came into view in the distance. A twenty-foot-high stone wall surrounded the city, with watchtowers at every corner. The royal flag fluttered above the main gate, a golden lion on a blue background, the symbol of the Valdorian royal family.
Kael paused, staring at the gate with an inexplicable feeling. Thirteen years he had waited for this moment. Thirteen years he had trained every day, honing his body and mind to become a soldier. And now, he stood before the gateway to his new life. His chest felt tight, a mix of anxiety and hope that he couldn't separate.
"Footsteps, not words," he whispered, repeating the philosophy he had learned over the years. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.
The City of Valdoria was more crowded than Kael had imagined. The main streets were filled with merchants, soldiers, nobles, and commoners bustling against one another. The aroma of spices from the market mingled with the smell of horses and sweat. The clanging of metal from blacksmith shops clashed with the shouts of bargaining from the stalls. Everything blended into one deafening noise, a chaotic symphony that marked life in a large city.
Kael walked through the crowd, his eyes constantly scanning his surroundings. He noted the position of everyone around him, a habit formed from years of training. A skill he learned from books on situational awareness, then sharpened by bitter experience over the years. He tried to stay focused on his goal, finding the military recruitment center located in the eastern district of the city.
But before he could get far, the crowd in front of him suddenly stopped. The sound of trumpets rang out from a distance, followed by cheers of joy from the citizens lining the sides of the street. Children ran forward, adults gasped in awe, and merchants paused their activities to look toward the sound.
"The Princess! Princess Elara is passing through!" an old woman shouted, her voice trembling with enthusiasm.
Kael pulled himself aside, finding shelter under a shop's canopy. He wasn't interested in royal affairs. To him, nobles were just people who sat in palaces while commoners fought and died on the battlefield. They lived in luxury while his family was destroyed by demon attacks. Why should he care about a princess who had never felt the suffering he had experienced?
But his gaze inadvertently fell toward the passing carriage. The carriage was modest by royal standards, lacking excessive gold decorations or a dozen guards. Only four horseback riders escorted the black carriage bearing the golden lion crest on its door. The horses walked at a calm pace, unhurried, as if respecting something inside the carriage.
Through the slightly open window, Kael caught a brief glimpse of the figure inside. Golden-brown hair simply braided, falling over her shoulder in an unassuming yet elegant manner. Soft but sharp green eyes, as if they could pierce the soul of anyone she looked at. A beautiful face with a soft jawline that nevertheless showed hidden determination. And her hands folded in her lap with a posture unlike most princesses. No glittering jewelry, no waving silk fans. Just a strange simplicity for a royal princess.
For a moment, their eyes met. Kael didn't know why he didn't immediately look away. There was something in those green eyes that held him captive. Not haughty like most nobles, nor indifferent. There was something else in them, curiosity perhaps. Or the recognition that she saw something in Kael that no one else in the crowd possessed.
The gaze lasted only a few seconds, yet Kael felt as if he had been seen entirely. All the wounds he hid, all the resolve he carried, all the burdens he bore for thirteen years. It was as if those green eyes could read the traces of darkness in his soul, and did not shrink back from what they saw.
The carriage passed by, leaving Kael unable to explain the feeling that suddenly arose in his chest. Something warm and uncomfortable at the same time. Something that made him want to chase after that carriage, and something that made him want to hide from that gaze.
He shook his head, trying to banish the intrusive thought. "There's no use thinking about things I cannot reach," he muttered as he quickened his pace. He was an orphaned farm boy. That princess was blue-blooded, a descendant of kings. There was no path connecting those two different worlds.
The military recruitment center was a large stone building with a spacious courtyard in front of it. Dozens of potential recruits lined up in the yard, waiting their turn to be registered. Kael observed them with sharp eyes, noting details that others might miss.
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Most were the sons of nobles or wealthy merchants. Their clothes were still clean and neat, made of high-quality fabrics that were clearly expensive. Their shoes were polished, their hands soft, their faces full of naive enthusiasm. They whispered about the possibility of becoming heroes, earning medals, or catching the attention of noblewomen. They didn't know what awaited them on the battlefield. They didn't know the smell of blood soaking into clothes, or the sound of dying groans haunting the night's dreams.
Kael sighed and joined the line. He drew the attention of several people around him, who looked at him with a mix of curiosity and condescension. His clothes were simple, made of ordinary cloth whose colors had faded. His boots, though new, were clearly not made by famous craftsmen. And there was no family crest or status symbol on his chest.
"From the villages?" asked a young man next to him with a half-mocking tone.
Kael glanced at him briefly. "Yes."
"Be careful," the young man let out a short laugh. "The military isn't a place for farmers. You don't know how to read, don't know how to speak properly, and will surely die in your first battle."
Kael didn't answer. He had learned that words were often useless. It was better to show through actions.
The registration process moved slowly. Every potential recruit had to pass a basic physical examination and a brief interview. When his turn arrived, Kael faced a recruitment officer with an exhausted face. The officer didn't lift his head from the desk as Kael approached, his fingers continuously writing something on a piece of paper.
"Name?" the officer asked without looking at him.
"Kael."
"Family name?"
Kael paused for a moment. "Don't have one."
The officer looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Orphan?"
"Father fell in a demon attack thirteen years ago."
The officer nodded slowly, his expression changing to slightly more respectful. He had heard stories like this countless times, but there was still something different about the way Kael said it. No dramatization, no fishing for sympathy. Just a simple fact accepted with a calm demeanor.
"Origin?"
"Village of Greenwood. Now living in the Village of Millbrook."
The officer's pen stopped moving. "Greenwood... The village that was attacked by Shadow Drakes?"
"Yes."
The officer looked at Kael more closely now, his eyes inspecting the figure in front of him with new attention. "Age?"
"Eighteen."
"Recommendation letter?"
Kael pulled the letter from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it over. The officer read it carefully, his eyes widening slightly as he saw the name written on the paper.
"Captain Aldric Ironforge?" The officer looked at Kael with evident surprise. "Your family knows Captain Aldric?"
"My aunt. Her late husband served with Captain Aldric."
The officer nodded and stood up. "Wait here. I need to take this to my superior."
Kael waited for almost half an hour. Other recruits passed by, some getting direct decisions, others asked to wait like him. He used the time to observe, learning the workflow of the recruitment center, memorizing names and faces that might be important.
Finally, the officer returned with a man behind him. The man was around fifty years old, with hair beginning to turn gray at the temples. His beard was trimmed short, not too long but enough to give an impression of wisdom. His eyes were sharp yet warm, and his body, though no longer young, still displayed the strength of a veteran soldier. His shoulders were broad, his posture upright, and there was an authoritative way he walked without even trying.
The badge on his chest indicated the rank of Captain. There was a scar running across his left cheek, a thin line from a sword or claw, cutting clearly through his beard. His right hand, currently gripping Kael's recommendation letter, was covered in small scars, the marks of years wielding a sword.
"Kael?" the man's voice was heavy but warm, like distant rumbling thunder.
Kael nodded.
"I am Aldric Ironforge." The man stepped closer, his eyes looking at Kael with an intensity that made him slightly uncomfortable. "Your aunt, Helena, her husband was my closest friend. We fought together on the northern border for five years before he fell."
There was a weight in Aldric's voice when he mentioned the word "fell". An acknowledgment that the loss was still fresh, even though years had passed.
"I hear you're from Greenwood," Aldric continued. "You saw the attack yourself?"
"Yes, Captain."
"And you trained yourself for thirteen years to become a soldier?"
"Yes, Captain."
Aldric looked deep into his eyes, as if trying to read something behind Kael's gaze. Then he nodded slowly. "Come with me. I want to see your skills."
In the backyard of the recruitment center, Aldric led Kael to the training area. Several other soldiers stopped their activities to watch. Kael could feel their stares, a mix of curiosity and skepticism. A nameless village boy, specially called by Captain Aldric himself.
Aldric picked up two wooden swords from the weapon rack and tossed one toward Kael. Kael caught it with trained reflexes, his hand gripping the wooden hilt with a confidence born from thousands of hours of training.
"Show me what you've learned for thirteen years," Aldric said, taking a stance.
Kael took the Dawn Blade Style stance, left foot forward, sword at his right hip with the tip pointing down. A defensive posture but ready to strike at any moment. His body relaxed yet alert, every muscle ready to react in a split second.
Aldric smiled faintly. "Dawn Blade Style. Not bad for a village boy. Who taught you?"
"Books. I learned from books in the village library."
"Books?" Aldric let out a short laugh. "You think books can teach you how to fight?"
"I also practiced every day. A thousand swings in the morning, a thousand swings at night."
Aldric looked at him seriously before suddenly attacking. His sword moved fast, aiming for Kael's shoulder with serious force. Kael reacted with instincts honed over years. He dodged to the side and blocked the strike with his sword, then countered with a quick thrust to Aldric's stomach.
Aldric blocked it easily, but his eyes showed surprise. He attacked again, this time faster and stronger. Kael parried, dodged, and countered with strikes that flowed like water. Dawn Blade Style, focusing on speed and defense, utilizing the opponent's momentum to create openings for an attack.
The bout lasted for several minutes. Kael could feel the sweat pouring down his forehead, his breathing beginning to labor. Aldric was much stronger and more experienced; every one of his strikes carried a force that could shatter Kael's defense if he wasn't careful. But he held his ground, flowing from one movement to the next, never giving Aldric a chance to land a clean hit.
Finally, Aldric stopped and lowered his sword. Kael did the same, his breathing heavy but his eyes remaining sharp and focused.
"Enough," Aldric said. He looked at Kael with an unreadable expression. "Where else did you train?"
"Only by myself, Captain."
"Impossible. There's a maturity in your technique. Like you've fought in many battles."
Kael was silent for a moment. "I fight every night, Captain. In my dreams."
Aldric stared at him for a long time before finally nodding. "Alright. You're accepted. Training begins tomorrow morning. You'll be assigned to the recruit barracks, eastern district." He paused. "And Kael, don't think this will be easy. I don't care if you have a recommendation letter or not. On the battlefield, everyone is equal. You will learn from scratch. What you learned yourself is good, but there are also bad habits that need to be fixed. Be prepared."
Kael nodded firmly. "I am willing to learn, Captain."
Aldric patted his shoulder hard. "Welcome to the military, young man. I hope you last longer than the rest."
That night, Kael sat on the edge of his bed in the recruit barracks. The room was modest, ten beds lined up on either side, with a shared bathroom at the end of the corridor. The nine other recruits were already in their respective beds, some whispering about their hopes, others already asleep from exhaustion.
Kael couldn't sleep. His body was tired, but his mind kept spinning. He took his father's broken sword from his pocket and gripped it tightly. The rusted iron felt cold in his hand, yet its presence provided a strange comfort. A reminder of the vow he made thirteen years ago. A reminder of the day when he was a small, helpless child, promising to become stronger.
"Father," he whispered into the silence of the night. "I've arrived. I will become a soldier."
There was no answer. Of course there wasn't. Dorian was long gone. But Kael felt something different tonight. An inexplicable feeling, as if the step he took today was the first step toward something greater than simply becoming a soldier.
His mind returned to those green eyes. A brief gaze that felt like reading his entire life in an instant. Who was that princess? Why did she look at Kael differently? Unlike other nobles who viewed commoners as dust beneath their shoes. There was something in those eyes, recognition perhaps, or an understanding that they were both trapped in roles they didn't choose.
"There's no use thinking about it," he muttered, though this time with less conviction than before.
In the royal palace, miles away from the recruit barracks, a princess sat on the edge of her bedroom window, staring at the full moon with an anxious expression. Elara Valdoria couldn't sleep either. Her mind kept returning to the stern-faced young man she saw from her carriage that afternoon.
"Who is he?" she whispered to herself. "Why were his eyes like that?"
Like someone who had already seen death. Like someone carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders yet still standing tall. Like someone completely different from all the men she had ever met in this palace. All the nobles with their fake smiles, all the soldiers arrogant about their skills, all the dancers trying to win her heart.
"Princess?" the voice of her handmaiden came from behind the door. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
"No, Lena. I'm just thinking."
"About what, Princess?"
Elara smiled faintly. "About how destiny sometimes works in strange ways."
She didn't know why, but something told her she would meet that young man again. And when that happened, her life would change forever. For better or worse, she didn't know. But she felt a strange vibration in her heart, something she had never felt before.
In two different places, two souls who had never truly met felt a strange pull toward one another. A thread of destiny beginning to form, connecting two lives that would be intertwined in ways they couldn't imagine. The war still raged on. Demons still lurked in the darkness. But tonight, for the first time in a thousand years, a new hope began to ignite.
A hope coming from two people who didn't yet fully understand their roles in the history to come.
— To be continued in Chapter 6 —