“Am I a descendant of gods?” Asper’s voice rang out in the darkness around him.  It echoed, stretching endlessly in the void. Then, from somewhere deep within, a faint voice whispered back: "Yes." Before he could react, a shadowy figure with a blurred, featureless face surged forward, driving a blade straight into his heart. Asper gasped, pain ripping through his chest as everything around him blurred into nothingness.

With a gasp, Asper awoke, clutching his chest as he sat up in bed, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts. Sweat clung to his skin, and his heart pounded violently against his ribs. He scanned the room, half expecting to see that shadowy figure standing over him. But he was alone. It was just a dream.

Or was it?

But it wasn’t just the shock of the nightmare that unsettled him. It was the feeling that this had happened before. Déjà vu gripped him. He had never experienced this dream before, yet it felt eerily familiar—like a memory buried deep within him.

The question haunted him: "Am I a descendant of gods?"

The phrase nagged at the edges of his consciousness like an old riddle he couldn’t quite solve. Then it struck him—those words were the very first line in his favorite book: The Legendary Travels of Homer Jallins. The travelogue of the greatest explorer to ever live. But why would a line from that book appear in his dream… or nightmare?

Asper leaned back against his bed, staring out the window as he tried to steady his breathing. The early morning light had just begun to filter through the sky, casting a faint orange glow over the dojo. Birds chirped softly, perched on the branches of a tall oak tree that stood just outside his window. The world outside seemed calm, serene, a stark contrast to the storm raging in his mind.

He slowly rose from his bed, his feet touching the cool wooden floor of his small, simple room. The walls were lined with shelves crammed full of books—his escape. Thick, hard-covered volumes about travel, exploration, and adventure filled every available space. Some books lay scattered on the floor, left open on pages he had been reading late into the night. A large wooden bookshelf stretched almost to the ceiling, a testament to his insatiable curiosity about the world beyond the village.

The room itself was modest: just a mattress on the floor and a small closet for his clothes. For someone so fascinated with the vastness of the outside world, his living space was unusually tidy. Each book had its place, each object neatly arranged, as if he were preparing for an adventure at any moment.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of Asper’s mouth as he dressed in his traditional Cloverdel training attire—a dark blue and red tunic embroidered with golden, the colors of his lineage. He tightened the belt around his waist, casting one last glance out the window. The tree swayed gently in the morning breeze, the vast bamboo boundaries of the dojo visible beyond it. Beyond that, the forest stretched out like an ocean of green, the towering trees swaddling the dojo in nature's embrace.

“Today, I’m definitely going to defeat that ponytail,” Asper muttered to himself, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “And then... I’ll take my freedom and go on adventures.” He let out a low, almost villainous chuckle. “Heh... hehehe...”

With newfound determination, Asper burst out of his room, making his way toward the training hall. The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet as he crossed the hallway, the familiar scent of wood and incense filling the air. If he could win this fight, he’d finally have the chance to leave the village and explore the world beyond its borders.

The training room loomed before him, the door slightly ajar. Inside, he could already see his sensei, Warrek, and his opponent, Riven Lobenstein, waiting for him.

Warrek stood at the far side of the room, his posture straight and commanding despite his short stature. His well-built frame was unmistakable, and his gray hair, tied back in a short ponytail, spoke of wisdom and experience beyond his thirty-something years. He had the look of a man who had seen battle, his rough hands crossed over his chest, his eyes watching everything with an intensity that made you feel seen even when you weren’t looking his way.

Riven, on the other hand, a year older than Asper, at 18, with long, shiny blue hair tied neatly into a ponytail that hung down his back, he moved with a grace that made him seem lighter than air. His sharp, emotionless eyes made it hard to tell what he was thinking. Though his frame was thin, it carried a quiet, coiled strength—one that had earned him the title of the dojo’s undisputed prodigy. He was taller than Asper by a few inches, standing with a rigid discipline that Asper secretly admired, even if he’d never admit it.

Asper, with his short, messy maroon hair and lively, expressive eyes, stood in stark contrast to his opponent. Where Riven was quiet and composed, Asper was vibrant, full of energy, and always wearing a grin that made it seem like he knew a secret no one else did. His build was more robust than Riven’s—not bulky, but solid and strong, his body honed from years of training at the dojo. Despite his carefree attitude, he took his training seriously. He stepped into the training room, his usual grin in place, though there was a fire behind his eyes.

The incense-heavy air was thick with the scent of cedar, a weight that seemed to press down on Asper's mind and heart. The dojo was a testament to its long history—wooden dummies scarred by countless strikes, aged weapons reverently displayed on the walls. The polished wooden floor reflected the dim lighting, amplifying every footstep like the echoes of generations of warriors who had trained in this very space.

“Today’s the day I defeat you, Ponytail,” Asper declared, a playful grin tugging at his lips as he squared off against Riven in the dimly lit dojo. His eyes, usually bright and full of mischief, were sharper, more determined. It was the 38th match in their series of continuous fights—fights that would decide whether Asper could leave the village to pursue his dreams of exploring the world beyond these forests and mountains of Darzine.

Ever since his 17th birthday on June 8th, the condition for him to gain his freedom had been clear: Defeat the dojo’s genius, Riven Lobenstein. It was a challenge set by his mother to prove that he was ready, that he had the strength and skill to survive the dangers of the world beyond. But every single day since then, Riven had beaten him effortlessly. Today marked yet another fight in a long chain of defeats, but Asper wasn’t one to give up easily.

Riven sighed, his gaze steady and impassive. “That’s the 38th time you’ve said that, Asper. And the 38th time you’ll be disappointed.” He looked down slightly at Asper.

Asper’s grin widened, feigning shock. “Hold on… 38 times? You’ve been counting?!” He shuddered dramatically, clutching his chest as if wounded. “Don’t tell me you’re obsessed with me, Riven!”

Riven’s brow twitched at the accusation. “Shut up,” he muttered, the faintest hint of irritation cracking his calm demeanor.

Asper laughed, his mood shifting into a more serious tone as he bent his knees, assuming his fighting stance. “Let’s see then. Bring it on, Ponytail.”

A muscle twitched in Riven’s jaw. “Get ready…loudmouth.” The last part was a mocking jab—a nickname Riven had started using when their matches first began.

Warrek stood at the far end, observing silently. The sensei’s intense gaze bore down on them, adding to the pressure. The moment he nodded, Asper sprang forward, his movements fast but controlled. He feinted left, then lunged right, attempting to grab Riven’s wrist. Riven twisted his body, sidestepping neatly. But Asper anticipated the move, shifting his weight to his back foot and spinning around, catching Riven’s arm and twisting it sharply behind his back.

Point one.

Riven’s eyes widened ever so slightly before he regained his composure, his expression unreadable as always. “Not so bad, huh?” Asper said, panting slightly. He loosened his grip just enough to let Riven regain his footing, stepping back with a satisfied smirk. “What was that about 38 losses again?”

Riven’s calm eyes narrowed. “You’re getting ahead of yourself,” he murmured softly.

Asper lunged faster this time, aiming for Riven’s side. He managed to graze Riven’s wrist, but his opponent was already a step ahead, countering with a swift grip and locking Asper’s arm. The pressure mounted as Riven twisted his arm and shoved him backward.

Point one.

Asper winced, rolling to his feet. He forced a grin, though his heart hammered in his chest. “Lucky shot.”

Riven said nothing, his gaze locked onto Asper’s, unreadable and calm. For a moment, neither moved, the tension between them palpable. The air felt thick, charged with anticipation.

Asper narrowed his eyes, calculating his next move. He stepped forward, and Riven mirrored him—each waiting for the other to slip. Then, with lightning speed, they both struck at the same time. Asper aimed for Riven's ribs, while Riven swung a sharp fist toward Asper’s shoulder.

Their blows collided midair in a loud crack. The impact sent a shockwave through Asper’s arm, but he held his ground, teeth gritted. They recoiled, neither gaining an advantage. For the first time, Asper felt like he had matched Riven’s speed, if only for a second.

They circled each other now, eyes locked, each studying the other’s stance.

Stay calm. You can do this. One point at a time, Asper murmured to himself.

But Riven was done waiting.

He moved. One moment, Riven was standing before him; the next, he was inside Asper’s guard. With a smooth pivot, he broke Asper’s grip, twisted his arm around, and threw him over his shoulder in one swift motion.

Point two.

Asper’s heart pounded in his chest. He had barely been able to touch Riven. How could someone be this far beyond him? His breathing was ragged now, and his mind raced. He felt a swell of doubt rise up—could he ever beat Riven? Could he ever win his freedom?

He couldn’t stop. Not now. Not after everything.

Focus. Don’t lose sight of your goal.

But the gap between them loomed larger with each passing moment. Riven moved with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how this match would end—like it wasn’t a question of if Asper would lose, but when.

The score was 1-2 now. Asper took a deep breath, shaking out his arms. He could do this. Two more points and he’d win. He just needed to focus. As he prepared to charge again, a sudden heaviness gripped his chest, like an invisible weight pressing down on his ribs. His vision began to blur, and the room around him dimming. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, and then—like a shock running through his veins—he felt a sudden jolt. It was as if his entire body had been hit by a wave of electricity. His muscles tensed, tightening as if they were about to snap. He gasped, eyes wide, and staggered backward, his legs unsteady beneath him. Everything around him blurred, the dojo, Riven, and the scent of cedar wood all melting into a static haze.

What… what’s happening?

“Asper!” Riven’s voice sounded distant, barely registering as Asper’s body began to buckle under the weight of whatever was happening. In that brief moment of weakness, Riven seized the opening. He shifted forward, his movements fluid, wrapping his arm around Asper’s and sending him crashing to the floor once more. Then, with a swift twist and a solid pin, he secured Asper’s shoulders to the ground.

Point three.

The match was over.

But Asper barely registered it. His head swam, his body felt heavy, and everything around him started to blur.

Is this all I can do? Is there really no way for me to win? To leave this village?

The doubts clawed at him as his body grew heavier. He could see the disappointment in his own reflection, flickering in his mind. Was his dream just that—a dream, forever out of reach? Would he always be the boy who couldn’t defeat the prodigy, the one who couldn’t escape his village?

I’ve lost... again.

His thoughts blurred with the growing darkness as he crumpled to the floor, and then everything went dark.

Asper’s consciousness faded...., like the final crack of a lightning bolt before the sky falls silent.

"Asper... Asper... Wake up, Descendent... of Cloverdel... The time... Of the promise... Has come... It is time... "

The voice resonated within Asper's mind, deep and resonant, stirring both fear and wonder within him. He tried to respond, to question the source of the voice, but his throat felt dry and his words refused to form.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"Who... who are you?" Asper thought, his mind awash with confusion.

There was a pause, as if the voice was considering its response. Then, it spoke again, its tone filled with urgency.

"Asper, I am 'Zeus' Cloverdel family's Guardian Qurint," the voice intoned. "I have been bound for too long, and now, the time has come for you to set me free."

Asper's heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of excitement and trepidation coursing through him. He knew nothing of this Guardian, yet there was a strange familiarity in the voice that spoke to him.

"But... I don't know anything... how... how am I supposed to free you?" Asper thought, his mind brimming with questions.

The voice fell silent, leaving Asper hanging in anticipation. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease as he waited for a response, his patience wearing thin. "Um... Mr. Voice... Zeus?" Asper ventured tentatively, hoping for a reply. Yet, the silence persisted, stretching on like an endless abyss. Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the stillness, jolting Asper from his reverie.

His eyes snapped open, and he found himself lying in a familiar white room, the soft glow of the infirmary lights illuminating his surroundings. He felt a throb in his shoulder, a reminder of his recent defeat at Riven's hands.

As he sat up, his mind buzzing with the encounter with the Guardian, he couldn't shake the feeling that his life was about to change in ways he could never have imagined. His Vision cleared, and he became aware of a doctor attending to a young girl who sat on chair nearby. The doctor wore a traditional white yukata with red borders, her long white hair cascading down her back. She looked like a figure out of a timeless legend, her hands moving with practiced grace as she bandaged a scrape on the little girl's knee. The girl, with rosy cheeks and wide, curious eyes, watched the doctor's every move.

As the doctor finished bandaging the girl's knee, the child looked up and locked eyes with Asper. A warm, innocent smile graced her face, a pure expression of childhood joy. With a sudden burst of energy, the girl hopped off the bed and scampered towards Asper, her small feet barely making a sound on the polished wooden floor. She stopped before him, still smiling, and then giggled as if sharing a secret with a newfound friend.

"Be careful, Yumi-chan," said the doctor with a concerned expression.

"Heehehehehe, okay, Granny," replied Yumi with a mischievous grin.

With a gleeful twinkle in her eyes, she turned and dashed out of the room, leaving behind a sense of wonder that lingered in the air.

Asper couldn't help but chuckle at the exchange. "Granny?" he echoed, amused by the little girl's choice of words.

The doctor shot Asper a disapproving glance, clearly annoyed by Yumi's playful jab at her age. With a resigned sigh, she turned her attention back to Asper. "So, How do you feel now?" she asked, her tone softening with concern.

Asper shook his head, a hint of discomfort evident in his expression. "Not really good, mom" he admitted reluctantly. After Asper's confession, his mother's concern deepened, her brows furrowing with worry.

"What happened, Asper?" she inquired gently, her voice laced with a mother's tenderness. "Warrek told me you were zoned out during the fight. Is it because of "That" incident?", she continued, "If so, you should stop blaming yourself for that. It wasn't your fault."

Asper's breath caught in his throat, the weight of his mother's words sinking into his troubled mind. "No, it wasn't because of that," he interjected hastily, his voice tinged with frustration. "Sorry, I think I mistook the situation," she admitted, her tone softened with maternal compassion. "But even so, you know what your defeat to Riven means, right?"

"But, Mom..." Asper attempted to protest, but she cut him off with a gentle shake of her head, her expression firm yet loving.

"No 'buts,' Asper," she insisted. "Your defeat to Riven signifies that you aren't yet ready to leave the safety of the village and venture into the world beyond. The dangers out there are far greater and more unforgiving than anything you've encountered here... and I won't risk losing you too."

Asper's frustration simmered beneath the surface, his emotions threatening to spill over. "You don't understand, Mom!!!" he burst out, his voice trembling with pent-up anger. "Living in this dojo and this godforsaken village feels like being trapped in a cage! You promised to let me go when I turned 17, but all I always hear is I'm not ready. Just when... when will I be ready to leave the village and follow my dream?.... And today..., there was a voice inside my head, urging me to free them or.... unseal them, I think i will go crazy at this rate..."

His mother's eyes widened at the mention of the unknown Voice, her concern deepening as she reached out to her son. But before she could utter another word, Asper's anger flared, and with a swift motion, he tossed aside his blanket and stormed out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the corridor as he fled the confines of the infirmary, leaving his mother behind, her heart heavy with worry and regret.

He burst out of the dojo and into the heart of Darzine village, a place where everyone knew each other. The village was divided by three river streams flowing from the mountain, converging into a grand ocean. The villagers went about their daily routines, some tending to their gardens, others engaging in lively conversations.

"Hey, Asper!" called out Mr. Horan, the village blacksmith, his voice gruff but friendly. Asper barely registered the greeting, his thoughts a whirlwind. Mrs. Della, the baker, waved at him, her apron dusted with flour. "Asper, dear, how are you?" she asked, her voice full of warmth. But Asper walked on, his mind elsewhere.

"Did you hear about the match?" a villager whispered to another as he passed by. "He lost to Riven again," came the reply, tinged with sympathy. Asper's jaw tightened, but he kept moving.

The bustling market came into view, a cacophony of sounds and smells. Vendors called out their wares, the scent of fresh produce mingling with that of baked goods. "Fresh fish! Just caught!" "Handcrafted pots and pans!" The familiar sights and sounds were a backdrop to Asper's turbulent thoughts.

Asper's feet carried him to his favourite spot by the ocean, a place where the three streams converged and spilled into the vast, shimmering expanse of water. The sight was as breathtaking as ever. Seagulls and other birds soared above, their cries blending with the gentle roar of the waves. The ocean breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, carrying with it the scent of salt and freedom. He sat down on a smooth rock by the water's edge, his thoughts still racing. This was where he always came to find solace. The rhythmic flow of the river into the ocean brought him a sense of calm. He watched the birds fly freely above, their wings cutting through the sky with effortless grace. They embodied everything he longed for: freedom.

Sighing deeply, Asper felt the weight of his recent confrontation with his mother pressing heavily on him. The promise she had made to let him leave the village at 17 now felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by her protective fears. His heart ached with the desire to explore the world beyond the mountains and the ocean, to break free from the confines of Darzine village and find his own path.

He glanced at a tree nearby and memories flooded back. He remembered lying under that very tree years ago, feeling just as trapped and despondent as he did now. A shadowy figure of a girl had appeared over him, her voice clear in his mind. "Hey, you look sad!" she had said.

They had shared countless adventures, explored the village and dreamed of the world beyond. Moments of laughter and joy, running through the fields and playing by the streams, flitted through his mind. But then came the darker memory. The same faceless figure, reaching out to him with concern, saying, "Asper, you shouldn't...". He remembered the anger and frustration boiling over, pushing her away, leaving her alone as he stormed off. He never saw her again after that day, and the memory of her voice haunted him. 

The pain of that mistake mingled with his current frustrations, deepening his sense of entrapment and loss. Asper leaned against the tree, the bark rough against his back, and closed his eyes. His mother's words echoed in his mind, and he felt the weight of his past mistakes and future uncertainties pressing down on him. He knew he couldn't stay in the village forever. The world outside called to him, and the voice inside his head only intensified that call. Lost in his thoughts, Asper heard a familiar voice calling out to him.

“Ah, there you are, Asper,”

The village chief, Lupus V. Darzine, approached, his walking stick tapping rhythmically against the ground, the sun glinting off his silver hair. Lupus was an old man, his wisdom evident in his weathered face and kind eyes. Asper had always called him Granduncle.

“I was wondering where you had disappeared to.”

“Good morning, Granduncle,” Asper replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Or is it a bad morning?” Lupus chuckled, taking a seat beside him. “You look troubled.”

“I’m fine,” Asper said, his voice sharper than he intended. “Just tired of being told I’m not ready.”

Lupus raised an eyebrow, sensing the frustration simmering beneath Asper’s words. “You had another match with Riven, didn’t you?”

Asper sighed, running a hand through his messy maroon hair. “Yeah, and I lost… again. Mom won’t let me leave the village until I beat him. It feels like I’m trapped in this place, and I just want to see the world!”

His voice cracked slightly at the end, and he quickly looked away, embarrassed by the rawness of his emotion.

Lupus studied him for a moment before responding. “It’s only natural to feel that way, my boy. But your mother cares for you deeply. She wants to ensure you’re ready for what lies beyond these mountains.”

Asper’s anger flared again, but he suppressed it, knowing Lupus was right. “But I am ready! Why can’t she see that?”

“Because she worries,” Lupus said softly. “After losing your father, she’s scared of losing you too. She’s just trying to protect you.”

Asper clenched his fists, feeling the weight of guilt creeping in. “I know… but it’s infuriating! I’m tired of waiting for her permission. It’s not fair!”

“Life often isn’t fair,” Lupus replied, his tone gentle yet firm. “But you must understand that your mother’s fears come from love. She doesn’t want you to get hurt, especially not in a world as dangerous as the one you wish to explore.”

Asper turned his gaze toward the ocean, the waves crashing rhythmically against the rocks. “I just shouted at her, you know? I regretted it the moment I walked out.”

Lupus placed a comforting hand on Asper’s shoulder. “It’s okay to feel anger, but don’t let it cloud your love for her. Apologize when you get the chance. She needs to know you understand her fears, just as you hope she understands your dreams.”

Asper nodded slowly, the anger ebbing away. “You’re right. I should talk to her again… I just wish I could prove that I’m ready to take on the world.”

“You will,” Lupus said, a twinkle of encouragement in his eyes. “Just remember, every journey begins with a single step. Make sure to take that step with a clear heart.”

Feeling a sense of clarity wash over him, Asper stood, determination settling in. “Thanks, Granduncle. I needed this.”

Lupus smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Now go. Talk to your mother.”

He stood up and hurried back to the dojo, ready to mend what had been broken.

 As he approached, he saw his mother, Katina, standing at the entrance, her eyes filled with worry. The moment she saw him, relief washed over her face, and she rushed to him, her arms open.

"Asper," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I was so worried."

Asper felt a lump in his throat. "Mom…, I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just...I.."

Katina's eyes softened, tears glistening at the corners. "I'm sorry too, Asper. I haven't been listening to your feelings. I'm just so scared of losing you like I lost your father.". They embraced, holding each other tightly. "I love you, Mom," Asper whispered. "And I need you to understand how important it is for me to explore the world. Katina pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. "I do understand, Asper. But promise me you'll be careful."

Asper nodded, a sense of peace settling over him. "I promise."

Both sat quietly, their earlier confrontation slowly giving way to a moment of reconciliation. Katina took a deep breath, her gaze unwavering as she continued. "There's something I need to tell you about the voice and the Cloverdel family, Asper. I think it's time for you to learn more about our history and the Guardian Qurints."

Asper looked puzzled, trying to process the new information. "What do you mean?"

Katina stood up, her expression both grave and resolute. "Follow me," she said, leading him through the dojo to a concealed door he had never noticed before. The door, heavy and ancient, was adorned with the Cloverdel family crest—a majestic emblem of a thunderbolt striking through a lion's head. The crest shimmered subtly, reflecting the strength and power of the family's lineage.

Asper's eyes widened in awe. "I didn't know there was a secret basement here."

Katina's voice was soft but firm. "It's been kept hidden for a reason, Asper. Only those who are truly ready and are of Cloverdel family can know about it."

She unlocked the door with a creak that echoed in the quiet corridor, revealing a dimly lit room. Dust motes floated in the air, illuminated by a faint, eerie glow. The room was filled with cobwebs and old, dusty scrolls. Piles of aged documents and leather-bound books were scattered across wooden shelves, and an old chest sat in the corner, its surface covered in a thick layer of dust. Katina approached the chest, her hands trembling slightly as she opened it. A cloud of dust puffed out, causing them both to cough and sneeze. Asper wiped his eyes, his curiosity growing stronger as he peered inside.

Inside the chest lay an orb, its surface glimmering with a faint blue light, and a scroll tied with a ribbon. Katina carefully lifted these items and handed them to Asper.

"What are these things? mom." asked Asper with a puzzled expression.

"This orb," she explained, "is the key to unlocking the Guardian Qurint. Zeus, the Thunder Guardian, is a powerful entity given to the Cloverdel family years ago. The Guardian Qurints went into hibernation after a great war to protect themselves from those who would seek to exploit their powers. Our ancestors decided to seal them away until they healed themselves completely."

Asper furrowed his brow, puzzled. He had many questions swirling in his mind, but one stood out. "Why were they sealed?"

"To protect them from falling into the wrong hands," Katina explained. "They would have been vulnerable to those who might misuse their power. It was safer to seal them away until they were truly needed again."

Asper's confusion deepened. "And what about the great war and the Qurints? This is all so overwhelming."

"I understand, Asper," Katina said gently. "I would explain everything if I could, but even I don't know much. And we don't have much time. I think it's finally time for you to go beyond these mountains and... follow your dreams."

Asper absorbed her words, the weight of their significance settling over him. He packed his bag with the newfound artifacts and prepared to say farewell. Despite her own heartache, Katina knew this was a necessary step for her son. As she watched him, her eyes glistened with unshed tears, a mix of pride and sorrow. Asper embraced her tightly, the warmth of their connection a bittersweet comfort. "Thank you, Mom. I'll be back, I promise."

Katina's voice trembled as she whispered, "Just be careful out there, Asper. Follow your heart, and know that I'm always with you."

With one last, lingering look, Asper made his way to the mountain. The trek through the forest was both challenging and exhilarating, the path gradually ascending until he reached the top. There, the old cable car awaited, its metal frame creaking as it swung above the deep valley and the flowing river below. It was the only way to the next town.

Asper boarded the cable car, the chilly breeze on his face a stark contrast to the warmth of his mother's embrace. As the car began its slow journey across the chasm, he gazed out at the sprawling landscape of Darzine village, the familiar sights now appearing distant and small. In the distance, he saw Lupus V. Darzine standing at the edge of the village, waving at him. Asper returned the gesture, his heart swelling with a mixture of hope and excitement. As the cable car continued its ascent, he felt an exhilarating sense of freedom, as if he were flying alongside the birds he had always admired.

The vast expanse of the world stretched out before him, and for the first time, Asper truly felt what it meant to be free.