The sun had just risen. The soft glow of morning light crept into Altan's room as he opened his eyes with excitement. Today was different. Today, for the first time in his life, he would leave the village with his father. No fields to till, no chores—just him and his father on a journey beyond the borders of everything he had ever known.
Altan rushed to get ready, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. He had dreamt of this day for years, imagining the forests, rivers, and distant mountains beyond their home. His father, Kavor, was already prepared, calm as always. He greeted his son with a smile and handed him a small bag filled with dried meat and bread.
"Are you ready, son?" he asked.
Altan nodded eagerly. "I've been ready for days!"
They walked through the village, exchanging nods with the neighbors. Everyone was used to seeing Kavor pass in silence, but now, with Altan by his side, curious glances followed them. Some of the older villagers whispered to one another, their eyes lingering a bit longer than usual.
The two left the village behind. At first, Altan couldn't stop looking around. The towering trees, the scent of wildflowers, the sound of distant birds—it all felt magical. His father remained quiet but attentive, occasionally pointing out the names of plants or signs of wildlife.
After several hours of walking, they stopped by a creek to rest and eat. Altan drank from the cold, fresh water and looked at his father.
"Where are we going exactly?" he asked.
"To a village a few days from here," Kavor replied. "I need to deliver something. You'll see."
Altan accepted the answer, even though it left him curious. He enjoyed simply walking beside his father. They camped in the forest that night. Kavor made a small fire and placed a ring of stones around it while Altan gathered dry wood. They ate quietly, and Altan fell asleep listening to the crackling of the fire.
The next few days passed peacefully. They crossed rivers, followed old dirt paths, and passed abandoned watchtowers that stood like relics of a forgotten age. Altan began to notice things—how his father moved without making a sound, how he always seemed to know which direction to go even when there were no signs.
On the fifth day, as they walked through a dense part of the forest, Altan suddenly felt something was off. The birds had gone silent.
His father stopped too. "Stay close," he whispered.
From the trees, shadows emerged—three men, dressed in ragged clothes, each armed with knives and crude swords. Then two more appeared, circling around.
Altan's heart raced. Bandits.
One of them stepped forward. "You look like you're carrying something valuable," he sneered.
Altan instinctively took a step back, scanning the area, looking for a way out. If we move toward the rocks, we can block one side... if I distract them, maybe father can—
But before he could finish his thoughts, Kavor moved.
It was so fast, so fluid, Altan could barely follow it. His father stepped forward, grabbed the leader's arm, and twisted it until the man dropped his weapon with a scream. In the same motion, Kavor spun, knocking the second attacker unconscious with the hilt of his own sword, which Altan hadn't even seen him draw.
In seconds, the remaining three were either on the ground or running into the forest, screaming in fear.
Altan stood frozen.
His father sheathed his sword calmly and turned to him.
"Are you hurt?"
Altan shook his head slowly. "No… but… how did you…?"
"I've been through more than you know," Kavor replied simply.
They continued the journey without another word about the fight. But Altan's mind was racing. How many times had he seen his father as just a quiet farmer? How did he never notice this strength?
When they returned to the village, it was evening. As they walked through the gate, Elara stood waiting, smiling warmly. Altan ran to hug her, but before he could say anything, she spoke.
"We have a guest."
Kavor raised an eyebrow. "A guest? Who?"
Elara stepped aside. "Thalor. He arrived a few hours ago."
Altan turned to look, seeing a man sitting calmly near the fire in front of their house. He had sharp eyes and a presence that felt both heavy and wise.
Kavor didn't say anything right away. He walked toward the man with cautious steps. Altan, sensing the tension but not understanding the cause, followed his father in silence.
The wind rustled the trees gently as the fire crackled. Altan felt that something important was about to begin—but he had no idea what.
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End of Chapter Note:
Altan has stepped beyond the borders of his home and seen his father's true strength for the first time. But the appearance of Thalor hints that greater truths—and greater challenges—await. The road to destiny has just begun.