Yuna sat by the fire, the crackling flames casting flickering shadows on her face. She was alone, save for the soft hum of the wind brushing through the trees. Kaito, her mission partner, was nearby, but for now, he gave her space. Yuna's fingers traced the edge of her blade, her eyes distant as if lost in a memory.

Kaito glanced over at her from where he was resting against a nearby tree. He had always found Yuna to be a bit of a mystery, never one to share much about herself unless absolutely necessary. But tonight, she seemed even more withdrawn, her usually sharp gaze softened by whatever was running through her mind.

Kaito: "Something on your mind?"

His voice was casual, but he watched her closely, curious. Yuna didn't respond right away. She continued staring into the fire, the warmth unable to reach the cold resolve that had taken root in her heart long ago. She absently ran her finger along the hilt of her blade, the motion soothing in its familiarity.

Yuna (after a pause): "Just thinking."

Kaito tilted his head, not pushing for more, but the silence that followed told him that there was more on her mind than she was letting on. He turned his gaze back to the stars above, letting the moment hang in the air.

The village was small, and the weight of poverty hung in the air like a thick fog. The streets were narrow, lined with homes that looked as though a single gust of wind might blow them over. Yuna, much younger and with softer eyes, watched her parents struggle. Her father, once a proud Bladesman, now toiled as a laborer, his hands rough and calloused from years of hard work. His fall from grace had left him bitter, angry at the world that had once revered him.

Yuna's mother, tired but resilient, held the family together with what little strength she had left. Every night, Yuna would sit by the window, watching the stars, clutching the dull blade her father had discarded after leaving the Blades. She had been just a child when he left the Blades, too young to understand the reasons behind it. But as she grew older, the questions she once asked had turned into a quiet, burning determination.

Young Yuna (thinking): I'll make something of myself. I won't stay trapped here, watching everything fall apart.

Her father had become a shadow of the man she once admired. He no longer spoke of the Blades, no longer carried the pride that once defined him. And yet, in the moments of quiet when he thought no one was looking, Yuna would catch him staring at the sword that now lay discarded in the corner, his expression distant and pained.

One day, as Yuna was helping her mother gather water from the well, a sound echoed through the village. The heavy clanking of armor and boots against the cobbled streets caught everyone's attention. A squad of Bladesmen marched through the village, their presence commanding as they moved with purpose. Their armor gleamed in the sunlight, their eyes cold and calculating, yet their aura... powerful. Yuna watched in awe, her heart racing. These were the warriors she had read about in old books—the legends who wielded blades with unmatched skill and honor.

Her breath caught as they passed, and for a brief moment, she locked eyes with one of them. The intensity in their gaze sent a shiver down her spine, but it also ignited a spark in her heart.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Young Yuna (thinking): I want to be like them. I want to be strong.

But just as the squad passed, Yuna's father stormed out of their small home, his face twisting with rage.

Father: "Stay away from them!"

He barked, grabbing her arm tightly, his fingers digging into her skin.

Father: "You don't know what it means to live like them. Blood, pain, and betrayal. That's all the Blades have to offer."

Yuna flinched, startled by the harshness in his voice, but she didn't say anything. Despite her father's warning, her fascination only grew. That night, she couldn't sleep. All she could think about was the Bladesmen and the power they held.

Young Yuna (thinking): I want that power. I'll show them. I'll be different.

Yuna began training in secret. She practiced every night in the shadows, wielding her father's old blade under the cover of darkness. The dull edge of the sword barely cut through the air, but she swung it tirelessly, her muscles aching and her hands blistered. The pain didn't matter. Every swing of the sword brought her closer to the dream she clung to—the dream of restoring her family's honor, the dream of being something more.

One evening, her father caught her in the act. His face twisted in anger as he watched her practicing with his old blade.

Father: "What do you think you're doing?"

His voice was a thunderous roar as he stormed toward her, eyes blazing with fury.

Father: "You think you can just pick up that sword and everything will be different?"

Yuna stood her ground, even as her heart pounded in her chest. Her jaw clenched, and she looked him in the eye, refusing to back down.

Yuna: "I want to be strong. I want to fix what you broke."

The accusation hit like a slap to the face. Her father's eyes flared with rage, but there was something else there too—a flash of something like hurt.

Father: "The Blades won't bring you honor! They'll chew you up and spit you out! You're not my daughter if you choose that life!"

With that, he threw her out of the house, slamming the door behind her. Yuna stood outside in the cold night, tears welling up in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. She wouldn't cry. Not anymore. She wiped her face and made a silent vow.

Yuna (thinking): I will become a Blade. I will make them respect our name again.

As Yuna wandered through the village, lost in thought, a familiar figure approached her—an older man, weathered but with a sharp gaze. He was a retired Bladesman, someone who had once fought alongside her father. He had seen her training in secret and recognized the fire in her eyes.

Old Bladesman: "You've got potential, kid."

He leaned on his cane, observing her closely.

Old Bladesman: "But potential means nothing if you don't have the strength to back it up. If you're serious about joining the Blades, you'll need more than that rusty sword."

Yuna wiped her face, standing tall despite the heaviness in her heart.

Yuna: "I'm ready. I'll do whatever it takes."

The retired Bladesman nodded.

Old Bladesman: "I can train you, but it won't be easy. You'll learn what it really means to be a Blade."

Under his harsh guidance, Yuna trained relentlessly. Each day, she grew stronger and faster, her movements becoming sharper, more precise. But with every step forward, she felt the distance between herself and her family grow wider. Her father never spoke to her again, and her mother's letters became less frequent. Yuna poured everything into her training, hardening herself against the pain of loss.

Old Bladesman (after a tough training session): "Remember, Yuna. Being a Blade isn't just about strength. It's about knowing when to hold back. When to sacrifice."

Yuna nodded, even though the weight of his words lingered.

The fire crackled as Yuna was pulled back to the present, the memories fading but leaving behind a familiar ache. She looked down at her blade, the same one she had trained with all those years ago. So much had changed, yet the promise she had made to herself remained the same: to restore her family's honor, no matter the cost.

Yuna (softly): "I'll keep fighting until the end."

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Yuna: "No matter what."

End of Episode