In our northern village, there's a saying: "To build a sturdy hut, a carpenter alone is not enough."

It might seem like a silly saying; of course, a single carpenter isn't enough to build a hut. Yet, this simple phrase holds a very deep and almost trivial meaning. We could say it represents "strength in unity," where everyone must help each other and use their individual skills to succeed. Additionally, to build a sturdy hut, you need a skilled inventor to determine the type of wood to use, the fabric that can protect against the elements, and even the individual who must put all the pieces together is essential to complete the construction of the dwelling.

This saying has been around since the ancient origins of our small, isolated village because it was the Great Star itself that imposed this lifestyle on us, and we accepted it like a sparrow protected under the mother’s wings.

I was training at the outskirts of the village, in secret, because no one should know that a simple boy like me aspired to such a goal: to become the village chief. You might think I'm crazy to believe that punching tree trunks, climbing them, or running like a madman could somehow grant me what I want. Yet, I feel there's a bright future for me, something waiting for me at the end of that imaginary tunnel.

I was about twelve years old when I began my first training sessions, at a time when some of my peers had already been chosen by the Great Star to pursue the ascent to the “throne.” I was left alone. The few friends I had were forced to distance themselves from everyone, even their families, because a flourishing future awaited them when they reached adulthood, compelled, albeit with their own will and pride, to undergo special training in preparation for the trial, a sort of final one-on-one tournament where the chosen ones from the Great Star would contend for the throne.

I knew that not everyone awakened those great abilities as soon as they turned twelve, and for this reason, being aware of my disadvantage, or perhaps just to delude myself that one day it would happen, I hid from everyone in an almost spiritual retreat, like the chosen ones were doing.

The place where I trained was colder than the village center, and I was surprised at how much difference it made just to move a quarter of a mile. The cold forced me to use most of my energy to maintain a constant body temperature, so I got tired very quickly. Every time I left the house, I told my mom I was going to train to become a chosen one, and she, as usual, gave me a bag of dried fruit and jerky.

“Eat and become strong.” she always said to me.

Every time I hit that hard, damp stump with my knuckles, it definitely hurt, but day by day the pain lessened, and I was able to hit it harder. When I ran out of energy, I ate, or I thought about my father’s disappointed look, who didn’t believe in me at all. He thought these self-imposed training sessions were just a waste of time and energy. He was a woodcutter and wanted me to help him in the workshop, but convinced by my mother, he said i should work once the next village chief was elected (as if assuming I would not become one).

Every time I thought about it, anger flowed through my body to my clenched fists, which struck the damp stump with force. My feet sank each time into the soft ground, and a few blades of grass crept into my boots. The cold air and the smell of moss that lingered in that area seemed to want to drive me away. I felt that if I didn’t become the village chief, no other goal would be enough for me. I didn’t want to be just a carpenter; it was really boring. I wanted to fight, to be strong and determined, and to have a bright future. Like every boy, I dreamed of the moment when I would become a chosen one and awaken those extraordinary powers.

But why did I want them so much? Sometimes, after turning fifteen, when I stood in front of that tree with the bark all shattered, I wondered why I wanted those powers so badly. I wondered if becoming the village chief was really a good idea or if being a carpenter might be the path that would make me happy. So, like the crazy kid I was, I set a goal for myself: before the next successor was elected, I would have to manage to destroy that tree with my bare hands and make it fall to the ground with a great thud.

I still had some years to achieve this, and week after week the bark grew thinner until it reached the trunk itself. Every day, from morning till night, I ran as fast as I could to that trunk to train my legs (or so I thought, not realizing it would also help with my endurance), jumped over rocks for a few hours, and then focused on that trunk.

“It’s just you and me.”

My hands were worn out, but so was the stump. I was so happy to see that damned stump fall to the ground and flail in the air, realizing it had been taken down by a boy with just punches. I couldn’t believe it myself, yet I had done it. It fell slowly, and at first, I didn’t even notice because I was sitting down to have breakfast when suddenly it tilted to one side and fell to the ground, never standing up again. That satisfying sound of scraping gave me a sensation inside that I had never felt before. It was pure and sincere happiness and perhaps a bit of admiration for myself. I was more determined than ever to face the ceremony to become the village chief because I knew I had been able to bring down a tree with my own hands.

I was seventeen when I took down that damned tree, and at eighteen, I started peeking at the chosen ones’ training sessions. If I wanted to become like them, I had to learn from them too, so I had to stick to their training. It was difficult to see what they were doing beyond that dark fence, almost twice my height (yes, I wasn’t very tall even though I was already of age), but I quickly realized I couldn’t do what they did. Their training focused on the intelligent and strategic use of their powers, but I still didn’t have any, and maybe even then I began to lose hope of being chosen by the Great Star. However, observing those training sessions was very useful to me. I took note of their powers, their abilities, and even their personalities.

There were five boys and two girls who would contend for the throne. Among them, there were mainly two types of powers: a kind of supernatural strength and endurance, and magic. Five of them possessed these two characteristics, the remaining two, a boy and a girl I named Sally and Dylan, seemed to have no special powers like the others. However, upon closer inspection, they were not normal at all. Although they, unlike the others, didn’t possess particular abilities, they could attack and defend simultaneously from both the warriors (those with supernatural strength) and the magicians. They predicted their attacks and, with precise movements, approached the opponent to take them down. They were the ones I admired the most, and perhaps I aimed to become just like those two.

I have always been a solitary type, which wasn’t seen as a positive aspect in the village. As I mentioned at the beginning, our policy was based on collaboration and personal bonds, so someone who had no collaboration skills was not looked upon favorably. I wasn’t grumpy, but I didn’t like pretending to like someone and lying so brazenly. It seemed that everyone had to pretend to live in harmony to continue surviving. I didn’t like it at all. Perhaps that was why I wanted to become the village chief. I wanted to show everyone that even a boy different from the others could reach that peak, thus dismantling the prejudice that those who do not collaborate are untrustworthy. The older I grew, the more I realized how this peace and serenity that had persisted in the village for generations was a mere façade. Traditions to follow to avoid being different or expressing oneself as an individual. Everything had to be approved by the community, even at the cost of denying one’s preferences or changing them into new habits.

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Blinded by my thirst for social redemption or power, I hadn’t realized how our village was like a rock, metaphorically speaking. It was a rock that remained static, immobile, with changes occurring only due to natural and external causes: raindrops and wind that slowly altered its shape, or a lightning bolt that shattered it.

I was standing in front of the Great Star, a gigantic boulder with small holes that emitted warmth, which was the foundation and cornerstone of this village surrounded by snow and storms. Around this sacred presence, snow never settled; it was constantly melted, creating a bubble like firm where inside, the village experienced a perpetually spring-like climate. The land was lush thanks to the warmth of the Great Star, and it was this boulder that awakened special powers in some of us.

The legend that the village elder tells every child is that a group of nomads, in search of a home, came upon the stone and, as if in a holy land, founded the village of Progonos, our current village, which has barely expanded since then due to the territorial limits covered by the Great Star's sacred rays. The same legend recounts how the Great Star blesses some young chosen ones with the awakening of four powers, to lead the village toward collaboration and a cohesive community.

These four powers were: immense strength, unparalleled adaptability (which Sally and Dylan likely possessed), and control over magical forces. I know these are only three powers; indeed, there was a fourth, considered a curse, that is far less common, and I don't know much about it.

I, however, had not awakened any power.

I was again in front of the Great Star, and after cursing it for not choosing me as a prophet of its power - this happens frequently - the only thing I could do was somehow challenge one of the chosen ones and prove that even if I couldn't defeat them. The truth is I really didn't know what to do with my life at that time.

It have must been luck because, one day, just as I was about to leave and go home, a girl stepped in front of me and stared at me suspiciously.

"You're the one who always watches us, aren't you?"

Caught off guard, I didn't know what to say and stammered something without managing to form a real word. She noticed I was in a hard time, or perhaps interpreted it as embarrassment, but I was still conscious that it was Sally and that she had caught me red-handed.

"Look, I'm not judging you for what you do. I know it can be interesting to watch our training sessions, but it's against the law."

Even though she was talking to me about laws, the only thing on my mind was that one of the two people I admired so much, almost like idols, was speaking to me. I wasn't a masochist, but receiving attention from your idol, even if negative, is still something, right? A start…

"I, I'm a big fan of yours," I corrected myself, "a fan of you all."

She responded mockingly, "What can I say, we chosen ones are like that. But it doesn't mean you're allowed to do what you've been doing."

I could do nothing but admit my guilt and take responsibility for my actions. Although perhaps I apologized just to look good. The next day, I went watching the training sessions anyway.

"You're right. I'm very sorry."

Slowly regaining my composure, I noticed several factors I hadn't considered before. Besides the fact that she was almost half my height – even though she should have been my age – she reminded me of something.

"Wait a minute. But you, too, shouldn't be outside the chosen ones' training ground."

She widened her eyes and inhaled sharply, as when someone tells you an uncomfortable truth you preferred not to know, and it offends you a bit.

"I… I was" she paused, "tasked by the master."

I wasn't the smartest guy in the village, but I took advantage of her weakness.

"So if I asked your master, he'd tell me the same thing," I provoked her. She remained silent, trying to come up with another excuse.

She wasn't a particularly feminine girl, as I preferred, yet I appreciated her presence, even in less than ideal conditions. It had been a long time since I'd talked to someone like that, so bluntly and without mincing words.

I caught her attention: "Listen, Sally, Let's do this way. I'll keep watching the training sessions, and in return, I won't tell your master about this... nocturnal escapade to see your boyfriend."

Yes, she was visibly confused. I don't know if it was because I called her Sally - even though that was certaily not her name- because of the blackmail, or because I had just declared myself as "her boyfriend." But it was too fun to see her face. Maybe I scared her a little.

"Who the hell are you?! I'm Malia, one of the chosen by the Great Star. How dare you blackmail me like that?!"

Luckily, she only mentioned the blackmail. I pointed her to lower her voice, or someone would have noticed her presence in the village outside her designed training area. I don't know why I had this instinct to "protect" her from herself. I let out a laugh. It was too fun to provoke her; I would have liked to continue forever.

"I know a place where you can scold me without anyone finding out."

That day, I discovered parts of myself I thought I no longer possessed. I had a sort of charisma, that "quick wit" that the village teachers always scolded me for at school when I was much younger.

I threw my wool coat over her head and started walking towards the promised place. I wanted someone to finally see me. After all these months of training, I had the chance for a chosen one to see my effort, my sweat, and the tears I had shed to reach my dream. A simple dream that all the boys in the village eventually stop believing in. The same dream she was realizing, though.

"So? Aren't you coming?"