"Norman, you should always familiarize yourself with your weapon before using it," Dastarn sighed, shaking his head.

"Go and grab your weapons. We'll meet near Gideon's smith, and the rest of the team will join us there. But before we gather, acquaint yourself with your weapon. Get the hang of it before the official hunt begins."

"I will do that, Mr. Dastarn," Norman replied, adjusting how he addressed Dastarn outside of normal occasions.

Bringing Gideon's name made a thought light up in Dastarn's head, just like a candle that suddenly lit up. 'hm, should i ask Gideon to make something for Ryn as well, maybe a weapon'

As Dastarn's mind danced with the idea of asking Gideon for a special gift for Ryn, a flicker of hesitation ignited within him.

The notion of presenting a weapon to a young boy didn't sit quite right, despite Ryn's occasional maturity beyond his years.

Although Ryn showed little interest in physically demanding pursuits and seemed to lack enthusiasm for anything involving physicality, except for his morning exercises, Dastarn couldn't help but notice peculiar stances his son had been practicing lately, stances reminiscent of martial arts.

This observation sparked a new idea in Dastarn's mind.

'Perhaps a small dagger,' he pondered, but that thought dredged up unwelcome memories from the depths of his past. Memories he had longed to bury, memories that changed the atmosphere around him, casting a shadow over his countenance.

Just as the weight of those memories threatened to consume him, a voice broke the silence.

"Mr. Dastarn?" came the gentle interruption.

Dastarn's lips curved into a smile, his features relaxing, as he shifted his attention to the source of the voice. "Ah, Norman," he replied warmly.

Norman, sensing the fleeting moment of introspection that had enveloped Dastarn, chose not to disturb him.

He observed the subtle transformation in his mentor's demeanor, noting the faint smile that graced his face.

However, in that brief instant, Norman experienced an inexplicable sensation, an eerie chill that coursed down his spine, stealing his breath.

It was a feeling his father had described to him when encountering predators during their hunts, relinquishing their prey in the heart of the forest.

The sensation mirrored his father's tales of a spine-tingling coldness and a lingering sweat upon his brow.

Yet, Norman couldn't comprehend the source of this chilling encounter or its connection to Mr. Dastarn. The uncertainty compelled him to call out his mentors name.

"Mr. Dastarn?" Norman repeated, seeking reassurance and understanding, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Just call me Dastarn, and only address me as Captain when we're out of the village hunting, in case you're uncomfortable using my name."

"I will do that, Captain," Norman said nervously, then swiftly ran towards Gideon's smith with a slight breath of relief, eager to retrieve his new weapons.

"Mum, can you tell me now?" Rynathar asked, freshened up and wearing comfortable clothes as he sat at the dining table near the kitchen. Enara, already seated, patiently waited for Dastarn to finish his conversation with Norman.

"We'll wait a little longer for your father, and then we can eat and share the news," Enara replied to Rynathar, her eyes filled with anticipation.

"Did you wait for me?" Dastarn asked, closing the door behind him and taking his seat at the head of the table.

"Let's dig in, then," he added, ready to feast. However, Enara halted him.

"Let's offer our prayers first," Enara suggested, gesturing for Rynathar to hold her hand. Rynathar complied, extending his other hand towards his father, but due to their seating arrangement, Dastarn and Enara couldn't reach each other's hands.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Enara closed her eyes and began silently reciting her prayers, while Dastarn and Rynathar exchanged side glances, checking if the other was engaged in prayer as well.

As the meal came to a satisfying end, laughter and contentment filled the room. Rynathar leaned back in his chair, feeling a pleasant warmth enveloping him. The joyful atmosphere seemed to hint at something more, something that had been kept as a surprise.

With a mischievous smile, Rynathar looked at his parents and asked,

"Now, can you finally tell me what I've been waiting for since this morning? What's the big secret?"

Enara exchanged a knowing glance with Dastarn, their eyes sparkling with anticipation. Dastarn chuckled and, unable to contain his excitement any longer, revealed the news that would change Rynathar's life in the most extraordinary way.

"Rynathar, my son," Dastarn began, a mix of pride and tenderness in his voice,

"you're going to be an older brother. Your mother and I are expecting a new baby."

Rynathar's eyes widened, and his heart skipped a beat.

A rush of emotions surged through him, a blend of surprise, wonder, and a profound sense of responsibility.

He glanced at Enara, his mother, who wore a radiant smile that seemed to illuminate the entire room.

"Really? A baby?" Rynathar exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and joy.

"I'm going to have a little brother or sister?"

Enara nodded, her eyes shimmering with affection.

"Yes, dear. Our family is growing, and you will soon have someone to share your adventures and dreams with. You'll be the best older brother, I'm sure of it."

Rynathar couldn't contain his excitement.

Thoughts raced through his mind as he envisioned the adventures he would embark on with his future sibling.

He imagined teaching them everything he knew, guiding them through the wonders of their village, and protecting them with unwavering love.

Dastarn reached across the table, placing a hand on Rynathar's shoulder.

"You are about to embark on a remarkable journey, my son. Being an older brother is a special role, filled with love, guidance, and the joys of watching someone grow. We believe in you, and we know that you'll be an incredible companion and mentor to your new sibling."

Rynathar beamed with pride, feeling a newfound sense of responsibility and excitement bubbling within him.

His heart swelled with love for his growing family, and he couldn't wait to welcome the newest addition with open arms.

As the room filled with laughter, stories, and plans for the future, Rynathar felt a profound sense of gratitude.

He knew that his life was about to change in the most wonderful way, and he was ready to embrace the journey of becoming an older brother, guided by the love and support of his extraordinary parents.

As the joyous news of a new baby filled the room, Rynathar's eyes gleamed with excitement.

Unbeknownst to him, an enigma, a shadowy entity, lurked in the periphery of his subconscious, observing the scene with a seemingly nonchalant expression.

However, the moment the entity heard the words, its countenance shifted in an instant.

The enigma's face, which had previously held a faint smile, turned cold and devoid of emotion.

Its eyes, once filled with a mysterious aura, now burned with an intense crimson hue, as if ignited by an unseen fire.

This sudden transformation lasted only for a fleeting moment before the enigma reverted to its former appearance, leaving no trace of the profound change that had occurred.

Unaware of the significant shift in the enigma's demeanor, Rynathar continued to bask in the excitement of becoming an older brother.

His mind buzzed with visions of shared adventures and the bond he would forge with his future sibling.

Little did he know that something had stirred within the enigma, an unknown force that had been awakened within by the news.

The enigma, its motives hidden in the shadows, observed closely, its gaze lingering for a moment longer.

There was an air of intrigue, a sense of anticipation surrounding this new development.

What significance did the arrival of this new life hold? And how would it shape the enigma's own enigmatic existence?

For now, Rynathar remained blissfully unaware of the enigma's subtle transformation that had taken place.

He returned to the warmth of his family's embrace, cherishing the love and excitement that filled the room.

As the afternoon sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the village, Dastarn made his preparations for the upcoming hunt.

His excitement was palpable, a flicker of anticipation dancing in his eyes. Turning to his son, Ryn, he couldn't resist extending an invitation.

"What do you say, Ryn? How about joining me on this hunt? You can witness firsthand the skills of your old man," Dastarn proposed, his voice brimming with paternal pride.

Ryn, however, responded with a slight weariness in his voice,

"Father. I think I'll stay home with mom this time." It was a familiar exchange, one that seemed to repeat itself each time Dastarn embarked on a hunt.

Enthralled by his father's captivating tales of adventure during his hunting expeditions, Ryn always found joy in the passion and fervor that resonated within his father's voice.

However, the prospect of participating physically in those hunts didn't ignite the same fire within him just yet.

At the tender age of four, Ryn was acutely aware of his own physical limitations, and he couldn't fathom what meaningful contribution he could make in such grand endeavors.

Consequently, he consistently declined his father's offers to join him, even for the simplest of hunts.

Dastarn respected his son's decision, never one to force him into something he didn't want to do. Yet, he couldn't help but stress the importance of physical activity and training from a young age.

Still, Enara's disapproval and Ryn's dwindling enthusiasm acted as barriers, dissuading Dastarn from pushing the matter further.

Though Ryn's interest in martial arts had waned, he still engaged in early morning exercises with his father.

It was during these sessions that he would test the basic forms, some of which he had gleaned from the fragmented memories of the enigmatic shadow entity, and the rest he pieced together from the cryptic texts he had deciphered from the data he received through their mysterious connection.

However, his passion for martial arts had diminished over time, leaving him to imitate only those movements that were within the realm of possibility for beings like him.

The allure of mastering the ancient techniques had faded, replaced by a sense of disinterest that made Ryn question his own path.

As he contemplated his current state, Ryn couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead for him.

Would he continue to follow in his father's footsteps, or would his journey take an unexpected turn, leading him down a different path altogether? Little did he know that the choices he made would have far-reaching consequences, shaping not only his own destiny but the fate of those around him.