Heir of the Lost Wish

A month later, Lucian was ready to leave the outskirts. His belongings were carefully packed into a bag resting on his shoulders, and his heart beat erratically. It had been a long time since he had left home, and the thought of heading to the capital, toward an uncertain future, filled him with a strange excitement mixed with sadness.

With a trembling hand, he brushed against the rough surface of the door, his mind wandering to his parents. There were no tears. He had already shed them, years ago.

On the table, his father's sword rested, gleaming with a metallic sheen even in the pale morning light. Lucian picked it up with respect, his gaze settling on the blade, engraved with an inscription he knew by heart:

*"May my blade be the shadow of the King."*

These words echoed in his mind, like a silent vow he had never had to take himself, but now carried within him. He slid the blade into its sheath and fastened it to his side, a final tangible link to his father.

Then, he moved toward the door, where his "uncle" Al was waiting. In truth, Al had never been a family member. He was just an old friend of his father's, but the closeness and loyalty they had shared made him a fatherly figure in Lucian's life. Al's gaze, a little tired but still full of tenderness, rested on him.

"Take care of yourself, Luce," he said with a sad smile, a gleam of pride in his eyes. "I have no doubt you'll live up to it."

Lucian nodded. He had never been good at goodbyes, but he knew this departure was inevitable.

"Thank you, Al. Thank you for everything."

He turned his back on the house and, with a determined step, headed toward the outskirts, where a cart awaited to carry him far from this corner of misery to the vast unknown of Edonia.

The man inside was asleep, his head resting against the side of the cart, a stalk of straw sticking out of his mouth. He resembled a samurai, a woven straw hat on his head, his long black hair tied into a neat ponytail. A sword rested against the side of the cart, but not on his waist, a deliberate precision. Lucian, having undergone the intensive training of his father throughout his life, had developed a great ability to analyze. And this man, despite his sleeping position, had no openings, no apparent vulnerabilities. Lucian paused for a moment in front of the vehicle, scrutinizing him. The only word that crossed his mind was

*"Strong. He's strong."*

This man was an awakened one, a human with power, but not just any power: he seemed to be part of the elite.

Lucian was about to wonder why such a man would come to pick him up from this forsaken place, but before he could form his thought, the man woke up, barely lifting his head. His deep voice resonated, tinged with silent respect. He said, in a voice full of tenderness and old affection:

"Are you Hector's child?"

He paused for a moment, looking at Lucian with particular intensity, then continued.

"You don't look like him at all... but... you look a lot like Lyanna."

The man stretched slightly, slowly emerging from his sleep. His voice, low and reassuring, echoed through the silence.

"My name is Hiroshi, but you can call me Hiro," he added calmly. "Hector was one of my dearest friends, and you, you're his son."

He straightened a little, his gaze becoming more piercing, and added.

"Hector... He was a man of worth, a true one. I'll make sure you're treated as you should be."

Lucian, not knowing what to say, nodded in gratitude.

The journey went smoothly, and the days passed slowly, marked by the sound of the cart's wheels and the heavy silence of the road. Hiroshi remained taciturn, his gaze constantly scanning the horizon, not uttering a word unless necessary. Lucian, though intrigued by his mysterious protector, respected his space.

It wasn't until a starry night, around a campfire, that Hiroshi broke the silence. He slowly straightened up, his eyes fixed on Lucian.

"Draw your sword," he said, his voice grave. "In the capital, you'll have to fight often. It's time to test the son of the Iron Colossus."

Lucian, surprised, hesitated but did not hesitate for long. He grabbed his sword, still strapped to his side, and slowly drew it from the sheath. The metal gleamed under the stars. He looked at Hiro, wondering what exactly the latter expected from him.

Hiroshi then took a step forward and drew his own blade.

"Show me what you can do."

Lucian stared at Hiroshi, his heart racing. He knew this man was no match for a 14-year-old. He felt the weight of the sword in his hand, his breath quickening as he waited for the first move. Hiroshi, calm and impassive, showed no sign of tension, but Lucian knew that every move the man made would be a challenge.

Before he could make a move, Hiroshi, like a fleeting wind, was face to face with him. He struck a vertical blow with such force that the air seemed to twist around the blade. Lucian barely had time to think. By reflex, he raised his sword to parry, but the force of the impact made his entire body tremble, his bones vibrating under the blow. He could feel the pressure of each strike. Hiroshi gave him no respite, each attack was faster, more precise, and devastatingly powerful.

Lucian struggled to block, each impact forcing his legs to bend under the pressure. Hiroshi was fast, every movement calculated. Lucian couldn't find an opening, he couldn't counterattack. The fatigue began to set in, and each new attack was harder to parry than the last.

Each strike sent waves of pain through his body, and he was on the verge of giving up.

It was then that the image of his father appeared in his mind. He saw himself, young, lying on the ground in the courtyard, his father above him, arms crossed. Hector looked at him with a stern but deeply affectionate expression.

"Get up, Luce. What will you do when you face an opponent stronger than you?" he would say, his voice calm but full of determination.

Lucian, still panting, slowly straightened up, his gaze fixed on his father. Hector extended his hand to him, but before he could grab it, he spoke those words that still resonated in his mind:

"Analyze, anticipate, and react. It is in adversity that we discover who we really are, Luce."

In that moment of intense pressure, Lucian realized that he should not just endure Hiroshi's attacks. He had to look beyond the immediate moves, read his opponent, and anticipate what was coming.

Lucian felt the pain spreading throughout his body when Hiroshi landed a violent kick from an unseen angle. He was thrown to the ground, the earth hitting his skin like a heavy weight. As he tried to get up, his left hand brushing the ground, he instinctively grabbed something in his hand. But Hiroshi, always vigilant, had seen his move.

In one fluid motion, Hiroshi dashed forward at full speed, his sword poised to strike. Lucian, in a desperate reflex, deflected the attack at the last moment, feeling Hiroshi's blade graze his face, leaving a deep mark on his cheek.

He then opened his left hand, as if to throw something. Hiroshi, who had anticipated the move, looked at his hand, as though to avoid whatever was about to come out, but there was nothing. It was a feint, a bluff. Lucian had no illusions, he knew it wouldn't be enough to defeat an awakened, but that small instant, however brief, given by Hiroshi, made the difference. A fleeting smile appeared on Lucian's lips.

Hiroshi regained his composure, but his hesitation for a fraction of a second had given Lucian a slight advantage on the next move. Lucian's thoughts raced:

*Think, think. What move will he make?*

A flash of insight crossed his mind. He couldn't wait passively, he had to act before Hiroshi regained control.

In an instant, the answer appeared. He had anticipated it. Hiroshi was going to strike with a horizontal blow. Without hesitation, Lucian rolled under the moving blade, sliding under his arm and slipping between his legs. He aimed for his back, the perfect target.

But as he stood up, he felt a cold breath on his neck, and before he could react, Hiroshi's blade was already there, suspended above his throat. Hiroshi looked at him calmly, a slight smile on his lips, but his words were heavy with gravity:

"Slow... It's over."

Lucian froze. He had almost succeeded. Even though Hiroshi could have taken him down with a single blow if he truly wanted to. In his mind, something had changed. He had understood. It was not just about brute strength, but about subtlety, reading the opponent. And in defeat, he had learned an essential lesson.

Lucian collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by exhaustion and pain. His body trembled, every muscle screaming under the effort. He hadn't won, far from it, but he had learned.

Hiroshi reached out a hand to him.

"Rest well. In the capital, no one will pull their punches."

Lucian grabbed his hand and struggled to his feet, a thought crossing his mind as he looked at the starry sky.

This was just the beginning.