Two weeks had passed since Alex had left his village behind, and in that time, the road had been both a companion and a tormentor. The journey to Artima, the capital city of Evermore, had been long and arduous. His feet ached from the constant walking, his body weary from sleeping under the stars, and his heart still heavy with the weight of his mother’s death. But now, as he crested a final hill, he caught his first glimpse of Artima—and his breath caught in his throat.

The city sprawled before him like a vast, living tapestry. Its tall, ancient walls glistened under the midday sun, and the flags atop the watchtowers fluttered proudly in the wind. Beyond the walls, he could see the tops of grand buildings, their roofs shimmering with the colors of gold and silver. The streets, even from a distance, bustled with activity, and the sound of distant voices, the clatter of hooves, and the hum of life drifted up to meet him.

A mix of awe and anticipation surged through Alex as he made his way down the hill and towards the city gates. He had heard stories of Artima all his life—tales of its grand marketplaces, its towering spires, and the warriors who called it home. Now, he was here, ready to begin his journey, ready to make his mother proud.

The city’s gates loomed ahead, guarded by soldiers clad in gleaming armor. They paid little attention to Alex as he passed through, just another traveler in the throngs entering the capital. Once inside, the sights and sounds of Artima overwhelmed him. The streets were crowded with merchants hawking their wares, street performers entertaining passersby, and people from all walks of life going about their business. It was a far cry from the quiet village he had left behind.

As he walked down the cobblestone streets, trying to take it all in, his attention was drawn to a commotion up ahead. A small crowd had gathered near the entrance to a narrow alleyway, and Alex could hear the raised voices of several men, punctuated by the fearful pleas of a woman.

Curiosity—and a sense of duty—drove him forward. He pushed his way through the crowd, his heart pounding in his chest. As he reached the front, he saw three rough-looking men surrounding a woman. The men were jeering at her, their hands grabbing at her cloak, while she tried to fend them off.

Something inside Alex snapped. Without a second thought, he charged forward, his fist clenched. “Leave her alone!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the noise.

The thugs turned to face him, their expressions shifting from amusement to surprise. Alex didn’t give them time to react. He swung his fist with all the force he could muster, and for a brief, glorious moment, he felt it connect with one of the thug’s jaws. The man staggered back, clutching his face in shock.

For a second, Alex felt invincible—a hero in the making. But that feeling lasted only as long as it took for the other two thugs to recover from their surprise. The first blow hit him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The second followed swiftly, slamming into the side of his head and sending him reeling.

What followed was a blur of pain. The thugs, angered by his interference, beat him mercilessly. Alex tried to fight back, but his inexperience and the sheer force of their blows quickly overwhelmed him. The last thing he remembered before darkness claimed him was the woman’s voice, shouting for them to stop, and then the world went black.

---

When Alex awoke, it was to the sound of birds chirping and the soft light of late afternoon filtering through a window. He groaned, every part of his body aching as he tried to sit up. He was lying on a soft bed, in a small but comfortable room. The walls were lined with shelves filled with books, strange trinkets, and jars of herbs. The air was thick with the scent of something soothing, like lavender.

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Before he could gather his thoughts, the door to the room creaked open, and the woman he had tried to help stepped inside. She was tall, with long, dark hair that cascaded down her back, and her eyes, a piercing shade of green, were filled with a mixture of concern and amusement.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice carrying a note of relief.

Alex blinked at her, still groggy. “Where… where am I?” he croaked, his throat dry.

“You’re in my home,” the woman replied, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “I brought you here after you so bravely decided to take on those thugs.”

Alex winced as he tried to sit up further, feeling a sharp pain in his side. “How long was I out?”

“Only a few hours,” she said, handing him a cup of water. “Drink this. It will help.”

He took the cup gratefully, sipping the water as he tried to piece together what had happened. “I… I’m sorry. I wanted to help, but I guess I didn’t do a very good job.”

The woman chuckled softly. “You certainly have spirit, I’ll give you that. But you’re lucky they didn’t do more damage. A little more and you might have been out for days.”

Alex looked down at the cup in his hands, feeling a flush of embarrassment. “I just didn’t want them to hurt you,” he mumbled.

Her expression softened, and she reached out to gently touch his shoulder. “And for that, I’m grateful. Not many would have done what you did.”

They sat in silence for a moment before she spoke again. “What brought you to Artima, anyway? You don’t seem like the usual sort who ends up in a city like this.”

Alex hesitated, then sighed. “I came here to become a warrior,” he admitted, the weight of his words hanging in the air. “To honor my mother’s memory.”

Her eyes studied him closely. “Your mother? What happened to her?”

He looked away, the familiar ache rising in his chest. He didn’t want to talk about it, not now. Instead, he forced a smile and replied, “Let’s just say I’m on my own now.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, sensing his deflection but not pressing the matter further. “Becoming a warrior, huh? Do you even know what that means?”

Alex shook his head, feeling a little foolish. “Not really. I just know it’s what I have to do.”

She laughed then, a sound that was both warm and knowing. “Well, let me enlighten you. Warriors in Evermore are more than just fighters. They are protectors of the realm, skilled in both combat and magic—some in one, some in both. They dedicate their lives to keeping the peace and defending the land from the darkness that threatens it.”

Alex listened intently, hanging on to her every word. He had heard stories of warriors, of course, but hearing it from her felt different. It felt real.

“Warriors serve under the command of the Warrior Supreme,” she continued, “who in turn answers to the Ever Council—the ruling body of Evermore. It’s not an easy path, and not just anyone can become a warrior. It takes skill, determination, and a lot of training.”

She paused, looking him over with a critical eye. “You don’t exactly look like the warrior type,” she said bluntly, “but sometimes, hard work and heart can beat natural talent. And you, Alex, have a lot of heart.”

Her words brought a small smile to his face, and he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. “Thank you… I—” He hesitated, a memory surfacing of a slightly older version of himself, one filled with self-doubt and hesitation. He shook his head, mumbling under his breath, “Not like him…”

“What was that?” she asked, her sharp ears catching his muttered words.

Alex looked up, startled, then quickly smiled to cover his slip. “Sorry, I was just… lost in thought. What’s your name, by the way?”

She smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. “You can call me Miku.”

---

For the next year, Miku became both Alex’s mentor and friend. She taught him the basics of hand-to-hand combat, showing him how to properly defend himself, how to strike with precision, and how to use his size and speed to his advantage. But her lessons went beyond just physical training. She also shared with him the history and responsibilities of the warriors of Evermore, the code they lived by, and the discipline required to walk their path.

It was a year of hard work, of early mornings and long days, of bruises and exhaustion. But Alex never once thought of giving up. Miku’s encouragement and belief in him fueled his determination, and with each passing day, he felt himself growing stronger, more confident. The grief that had once weighed so heavily on him began to transform into a quiet resolve—a resolve to honor his mother’s memory by becoming the best warrior he could be.

Finally, the day came when Alex felt ready to take the next step. He stood at the gates of the Warrior Headquarters, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. The towering building loomed before him, a symbol of everything he had been working towards.

He took a deep breath, his hand resting on the heavy iron door. “Let’s do it,” he whispered to himself, determination lighting up his eyes.

With that, he pushed open the door,

stepping into the world that would shape him into the warrior he was destined to