“Ah…!”
My body moved automatically after a long night of recovery.
I headed to the bathroom to begin my cleaning routine.
I approached the sink and splashed water on my face.
The cold water cleared my senses instantly.
I looked at myself in the mirror.
Black eyes as dark as the night.
Dark hair with silver strands that stood out beneath the dim light.
Well-defined features.
If I were on Earth, I would probably be considered a model.
A week ago, I turned eight years old.
I stood approximately one meter and fifty centimeters tall, taller than my training companions.
Although, in this universe, that didn’t mean much.
There were species that easily exceeded two meters in height.
Upon reaching this age, we finally began training with spears and bows.
They were still made of wood, but it represented an important step forward.
We would learn the ancient techniques that had once made our clan feared.
I never stopped practicing my “Haki” or deepening my connection with the Force.
I could now sense presences within a radius of one hundred meters and, on occasion, anticipate Alf’s or Val’s attacks during practice matches.
I didn’t fully control it yet, but I was convinced I would soon.
My progress wasn’t limited to combat.
I studied every piece of knowledge I could access: droids, machinery, computer science, physics…
Together with Efi, I improved several agricultural droids.
They could now cultivate and harvest more efficiently.
We no longer needed so many villagers working in the fields; only enough to supervise them.
We managed to establish an almost perfect production cycle, guaranteeing a constant food supply for the clan without depending on greedy merchants.
We also developed reconnaissance droids inspired by military models I remembered from past conflicts.
And it proved to be a wise decision.
There were too many eyes watching us from beyond our borders.
The conflict on Mandalore intensified with each passing day, and the tension was beginning to be felt even on Concordia.
I wanted to go further.
To design combat units, automated systems, and new defensive lines…
But we lacked the materials and infrastructure required.
For now, that ambition would have to wait.
I would continue studying.
I would ask mom for access to the databases that contain technological knowledge.
I wasn’t the only one making progress.
My companions had grown stronger as well.
Our bond had gone beyond training.
I could trust them with my life without hesitation.
We had made a pact:
When we turned fifteen, we would travel across the galaxy as mercenaries.
Alf would be the tank, always at the front of the battle line.
Efi would be the technician, responsible for the ship and the droids.
Val would be the strategist, in charge of selecting missions and creating plans.
She was also an exceptional fighter.
Ali would be the sniper.
One day we would build a special bow with greater range and power.
Her agility and adaptability made her perfect for that role.
That afternoon we would learn the First Form of the Spear of Fenrir:
Fenrir’s Instinct.
A defensive technique designed to create an impenetrable perimeter within the spear’s reach, capable of deflecting blaster fire and intercepting melee attacks.
I arrived early at Training Ground Number Two.
The combat arenas were empty, the wind lifted small clouds of dust, and the sun beat down relentlessly.
My aunt appeared shortly afterward.
She walked with a firm bearing, a black spear decorated with star and moon patterns resting on her back.
“The Spear of Fenrir is divided into seven forms,” she said clearly.
“Today you will learn the first: Fenrir’s Instinct. Defense is the foundation of every warrior.”
Her motions were slow, precise, almost hypnotic.
There was something primitive about them.
Something both savage and elegant.
I felt the breeze against my skin.
The slightest change in temperature.
The sound of wood cutting through the air.
We tried to imitate her.
At first, no one managed to complete the sequence correctly.
I progressed quickly, driven by my learning ability.
Within a few weeks, I could already perform the entire form.
And then…
I stopped.
My progress stagnated.
At first, I had surpassed my companions with ease, but little by little they began catching up to me.
While they improved through constant discipline, I remained the same.
I had always been the best.
Always the most talented.
Wasn’t I supposed to be special?
Frustration consumed me.
Without realizing it, I punched the wall of the training ground.
Once.
Then again.
“What do we have here?” a voice asked from above.
My aunt sat atop the wall, watching me with a faint smile.
It wasn’t mockery.
It was understanding.
I tried to hide my anger, but it was too late.
I lowered my gaze and clenched my fists.
She jumped down with practiced ease.
“So the prodigy Azmar falls apart over a simple setback,” she said firmly.
“This world is full of geniuses. I’ve seen gifted warriors fall because they never experienced defeat. When they finally encountered a real obstacle, their arrogance betrayed them.”
She took another step closer.
“I was never a genius. But I worked harder than anyone. I don’t remember how many bones I broke or how many times I had to get back up. Discipline and perseverance made me strong, not talent.”
Her eyes locked onto mine.
“If this setback destroys you, then you were never as special as you believed.”
Then she left.
I remained alone as the sun slowly descended toward the horizon.
Ever since I was born, everything had been easy.
I had never faced a true hardship.
I believed myself superior…
Destined.
Yet the first real obstacle had broken me.
I closed my eyes.
The breeze brushed against my face.
My breathing steadied.
I felt the firm beating of my heart.
Fenrir’s Instinct…
It wasn’t merely about defending yourself from an external enemy.
It was about mastering the beast within.
At that moment, I understood something.
I wasn’t special because I had been reborn with advantages.
I would be special if I could surpass myself when those advantages were no longer enough.
I opened my eyes.
I wasn’t alone.
I had a clan.
And if I wanted to lead them to glory…
I first had to conquer myself.
I turned around and walked home with the sunset at my back.
This time, I didn’t feel invincible.
I felt determined.
Over the following weeks, I regained my confidence and managed to overcome that obstacle.
I completely mastered the First Form.
It could be said that it was my true first step as a warrior.
According to my aunt, I had reached the rank of Apprentice.
There were still more levels within each Form of the Spear of Fenrir:
Apprentice, Competent, Advanced, and Master.
My companions were progressing quickly as well.
Val was the closest to catching up to me, and rather than bothering me, it motivated me.
I helped them whenever I could, sharing advice and correcting their stances.
This time I wasn’t competing against them…
We were advancing together.
However, I noticed something important.
The constant repetition of routines was producing less and less progress.
The body adapted.
But the mind no longer felt genuine pressure.
If I wanted to keep advancing, we needed something different.
So I proposed an idea.
Together with Efi, I designed an isolated training chamber where stun laser bolts would be fired.
They weren’t lethal, but they were painful.
The intensity could be adjusted to different difficulty levels in order to test the First Form under conditions closer to real combat.
With my mother’s support, we obtained the necessary resources.
It wasn’t a sophisticated military system, but it worked.
After several weeks of effort, we completed it.
At first, very few people showed interest.
They preferred traditional training methods.
But when my companions and I solidified our Apprentice rank thanks to the new system, curiosity began to spread.
One by one, people entered the chamber.
And they understood.
Inside, repeating mechanical movements wasn’t enough.
They had to react.
Adapt.
Feel.
It was an experience much closer to a real battlefield…
Without the risk of dying.
The impact was immediate.
Warriors of different ages began using it.
Demand grew so quickly that we had to expand the project.
With my aunt’s help, we built more chambers.
Five in total.
Enough for the entire clan to train through organized schedules.
The collective improvement was obvious.
Stances became firmer.
Reflexes became sharper.
Confidence became stronger.
For the first time, I felt that I wasn’t the only one growing.
The clan was evolving.
Everything was going wonderfully.
The future seemed promising.
And yet…
In this universe, when everything appears to be going too well…
It’s because something is preparing itself in the shadows.