"Again!"
Victor's voice rang across the training grounds.
The students immediately resumed their drills. Wooden practice weapons clashed beneath the morning sun while bursts of light flashed across the sandy field. Victor moved between the groups with his arms folded, occasionally stopping to correct a stance or point out a mistake.
"Keep your guard up."
"Too slow."
"Channel the light when you strike, not before."
The tall hunter carried himself with the same quiet confidence that had earned him the respect of the entire village. Old scars crossed his sun-darkened forearms beneath rolled-up sleeves, each one a reminder of hunts that could have easily gone wrong. His sharp eyes swept over the training grounds, missing very little.
Near the back of the field, Zyon threw another punch.
"Too late."
The light wrapped around his fist flickered weakly before fading.
Again.
"Wrong timing."
Again.
"Too slow."
No matter how hard he tried to focus, the image returned.
The ragged black cloaks and the faceless silhouettes. A knot tightened in his chest.
"Hey."
An elbow nudged his side. Zyon jumped up a little. He then turned around to see who had startled him and saw his friend Lorenzo.
"You good, brother?" Lorenzo asked, who now looked a little worried.
Zyon adjusted his stance and threw another punch. "I'm fine."
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. The answer clearly didn't convince him.
Near the front of the class, two older students had also noticed the young prodigy being sluggish today.
Jax folded his arms across his broad chest. The sixteen-year-old towered over most of the other students, his thick build and permanent frown making him look intimidating even when standing still.
Beside him stood Mira.
Lean and athletic, she looked ready to spring into motion at any moment. While Jax relied on overwhelming force, Mira preferred speed and precision. Unfortunately, she also enjoyed making other people's lives difficult.
"Something's wrong with him today," Mira said.
Jax smirked. "Good, let's get some revenge for the last time when he beat us up."
Victor clapped his hands. "It's time to pair up and test everything we learned today."
The students quickly moved into position.
Zyon's muscle memory kicked in, and he stepped forward. He needed that distraction now. "Fight me, Jax."
The older boy grinned. "Thought you'd pick me."
The class was now in sparring mode, but they took it easy, eager to watch Zyon and Jax fight. Sparring matches involving Zyon were usually worth watching.
Victor gave the signal.
Both moved.
Jax opened with a light-enhanced punch. Zyon slipped past it and countered with a glowing strike to the ribs.
The hit landed cleanly, making Jax gasp for air briefly.
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Normally, Zyon would've followed immediately. But today, he hesitated.
Jax saw the opening.
A kick slammed into Zyon's side. Pain shot through his ribs.
Before he could recover, another punch crashed into his guard.
Then another.
And another.
Zyon blocked what he could, but several strikes slipped through.
A punch clipped his shoulder.
Another struck his cheek.
The surrounding whispers grew gradually.
Everyone could see it. This wasn't normal.
The Zyon they knew would've adapted by now.
Instead, he was being pushed backwards.
When Victor finally called the match, Zyon was still standing, but only just.
Even Jax looked surprised.
"That was weird," Lorenzo muttered.
"No kidding," Rommel said.
Caroline stepped forward before Zyon could walk away. "Hold still," she said softly.
Soft light flowed from her palms as she placed her hands over the worst bruises. Unlike the explosive techniques practiced during combat lessons, her light felt gentle and warm.
The pain slowly faded.
The swelling around his cheek visibly decreased.
Caroline frowned. "You're clearly distracted. You have been all day."
"I'm fine," Zyon spoke softly.
"No, you're not fine, Zyon! You are not acting like yourself." Caroline snapped back.
Victor's sharp clap interrupted them. "That's enough for today."
The students immediately relaxed.
Several groaned.
Others stretched their arms.
A few collapsed directly into the sand.
Victor allowed himself a small but proud smile and spoke up, "Go help your families prepare for tonight's feast."
That statement got a much more enthusiastic response from the class.
After every successful hunt, the entire village would come together and feast.
The training grounds quickly emptied.
Rommel headed toward his parents were already unloading supplies. Caroline and Lorenzo stayed behind.
Both were staring at Zyon.
Caroline crossed her arms before speaking. "Alright, are you gonna tell us what's going on? Or do we have to beat it out of you like Jax just did?"
Lorenzo nodded, clearly agreeing with Caro. "Yeah. You got wrecked, dude."
Zyon rolled his eyes, trying to find an excuse. "I didn't get wrecked, I just had issues channeling my Heka into my light."
Lorenzo stopped grinning and switched to a more serious tone. "Zyon, we've been friends for eight or nine years now. I know you better than you know yourself. You're never distracted during combat lessons. Never."
For several moments, Zyon remained silent.
Then he sighed. "This morning after our training, I saw something."
That immediately got their attention.
So he told them everything.
When he finally finished, both friends looked uneasy.
The silence lasted several seconds.
Then Lorenzo cleared his throat. "Maybe they were really dedicated sand sculptures."
Caroline stared at him. "What the hell, Lorenzo?"
"Fine." Lorenzo shrugged. "Very ugly travelers then?"
Despite everything, Zyon forced a small laugh.
The distraction helped lighten the mood a little.
The group eventually split up.
Caroline and Lorenzo headed home to help prepare for the feast while Zyon wandered through the village alone since he didn't have any family of his own in the village.
Tables were being carried into the square.
Lanterns were being hung.
The smell of roasting meat drifted through the air.
Normally, he would've enjoyed watching the preparations, but his mind kept drifting.
Two hours before the feast began, he found himself near the old training grounds.
Or rather...
Master Hound found him.
The older man stood waiting beside a wooden fence with his arms folded and then called out to Zyon, "Boy!"
Zyon stopped.
Hound studied him quietly. "I've known you since the day you were brought to me nine years ago. Something's weighing on you."
Zyon hesitated, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He didn't want to burden his teacher with this, but lying to Master Hound had always been nearly impossible. 'Maybe it's better to tell Master Hound about this.'
After a moment, he gave up trying to hide it. "Master, this morning I saw two figures outside the barrier."
As he described them, Hound's face tightened instantly into a deep, worried frown. For a brief second, his usual calm cracked. Then, just as quickly, the expression smoothed away, replaced by his familiar steady composure. But Zyon didn't miss the grim expression on his master's face.
When the story ended, Hound looked toward the distant dunes.
Then back at Zyon. "Walk with me," Hound demanded.
The two moved through the village while preparations continued around them.
"Do you know why I built this place?" Hound asked.
Zyon answered steadily. "To create a safe haven for us light users. A place where we can train without being looked down on."
Hound nodded. "That's the main reason."
Zyon remembered the stories he had grown up hearing. Some villagers claimed Hound built the settlement after losing someone important to shadow users. Others believed he was preparing for a war that had not yet come. And a few, usually the oldest among them, spoke quietly about a prophecy connected to the Light.
After several moments of silence, Hound spoke again. "Many years ago, before this village existed, something happened during a mission."
His voice had changed.
Quieter.
More distant.
"I saw something I could never explain."
Hound rarely spoke about his past.
"I can't explain everything right now, Zyon."
Zyon stopped walking and looked at his master, who took another step forward.
Something in his Master's voice made the boy's stomach tighten.
"But I saw figures like the ones you described."
Hound stopped walking and turned around to look at his pupil.
For the first time, genuine worry appeared in his eyes.
"If I'm not back before tonight's feast..." his gaze locked onto Zyon's.
"...gather the friends you trust most and leave the village immediately."
Zyon's blood ran cold.
"What... Master?"
A firm hand landed on Zyon's shoulder. "I will always protect you, Zyon. I promise."
For a moment, it looked as though Hound wanted to say more.
Then he stepped away.
Without another word, the Master turned and, with a fast pace, headed toward Victor's house.