The sun rose over the forest, casting golden rays through the remnants of the storm clouds. Kylian sat beside the now-ash-filled pyre, the fire had burned down to a quiet ember. The remnants of his mother's farewell scattered in the breeze, a poignant reminder of the grief and loss he had endured.

The morning sun peeked through the trees as Kylian packed up his few belongings, ready to leave the forest behind. He took one last look at the Ashvatha tree where he had said his final goodbye to his mother. With a deep breath, he turned and started his journey to the fort of Arkhaven.

Kylian walked through the forest, taking the shortest route possible. It took him the entire day to reach the fort. By the time he arrived at the walls of Arkhaven, the sun had begun to set. If he had been a little later, the gates would have closed, and he would have had to wait the night outside. Luckily, he reached before sunset, just as the curfew began. The guards inspected him and, after verifying his identity, let him through.

He found himself in the bustling town square, his eyes drawn to the recruitment station. Soldiers were busy processing new recruits, their stern faces a mix of exhaustion and determination. Kylian hesitated for a moment, then approached the table where an officer sat, reviewing papers.

"Excuse me, sir," Kylian began, his voice steady despite his nerves. "I want to join the army."

The officer, a grizzled veteran with a stern look, glanced up. "How old are you, boy?"

"Seventeen," Kylian replied, meeting the officer's gaze.

"Seventeen, huh?" The officer's eyes narrowed. "What's your name, and why do you want to join?"

"I'm Kylian," he said, taking a deep breath. "My village was destroyed by Galdor's forces. I've lost everything. I want revenge."

The officer studied him for a moment. "You got any experience with weapons?"

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"I'm a blacksmith," Kylian explained. "I know how to work with metal, and I've made swords before."

"A blacksmith, eh?" The officer's expression softened slightly. "We could use someone with your skills. But joining the army isn't just about swinging a sword. Are you ready for the training?"

Kylian nodded firmly. "I'm ready."

...

The first week of training was grueling. Kylian found himself waking before dawn, his muscles aching from endless drills and physical conditioning. The recruits started to open up to each other, sharing their stories and finding solace in their shared hardships.

Among them was Eamon, a young man with a similar look of determination in his eyes.

"How are you holding up, Kylian?" Eamon asked, taking a sip of water during a break.

"It's tough," Kylian admitted, wiping sweat from his brow. "But I need to do this."

Eamon nodded. "I hear you, man. I also barely escaped. Joining the army seemed like the only way to fight back."

Kylian looked at Eamon, " Fighting back! I want revenge. I want to make them pay for what they did."

Eamon's expression turned somber and he could only nod his head slightly.

Kylian clenched his fists, the pain of his loss fresh in his mind.

By the end of the second week, Kylian had settled into a routine. The training regimen was relentless: morning drills, weapons practice, strategy sessions, and endurance runs. Every day was a test of his physical and mental limits. The officers were unforgiving, their eyes always watching for the slightest mistake.

One afternoon, during sword training, the instructor, Sergeant Brant, approached Kylian.

"Show me what you've got, blacksmith," Brant challenged, tossing Kylian a practice sword.

Kylian took a deep breath, gripping the sword tightly. He squared off against the sergeant, who attacked with a flurry of quick strikes. Kylian blocked and parried, his movements growing more confident with each clash of steel.

"Not bad," Brant grunted, stepping back. "You've got potential. But remember, it's not just about strength. You need to be smart and quick."

Kylian nodded, sweat dripping down his face. "Yes, sir. I understand."

That evening, as they rested, Eamon spoke again. "I saw you out there today. You were impressive."

"Thanks," Kylian replied, looking at the fire. "I just keep thinking about my mother. It gives me the strength to keep going."

Eamon sighed. "I know what you mean. Sometimes, I can still hear my sister's laughter. It haunts me, but it also drives me. We have to stay strong, for them."

Kylian nodded, the flames reflecting in his eyes. "For them."