A New Bond
The evening sky burned orange as the two figures walked side by side. Querion rubbing his dust off and wipes the eyes , still shaken from his encounter earlier, glanced at Shammroy with doubt clouding his eyes. And both of them started walking.
Querion, voice low and hesitant,
"So… your name is Shammroy?"
Shammroy nodded calmly.
Querion clenched his fists, his tone turning bitter,
"Why do you even care about me so much? You're strong… You don't need a failure like me."
Shammroy looked at him with steady eyes, his voice firm yet kind,
"What are you blabbering? I didn't choose you because you're strong or weak. I chose you… because I saw the spirit in you."
Querion gave a sad smirk, his lips trembling,
"Spirit…Yeah… losers like me only have that one thing left—spirit."
Shammroy suddenly raised his voice, startling him,
"Oye! The spirit inside doesn't belong to weaklings or stronglings. It belongs to those who dare to keep walking forward. And that was choosen by inner in you… you have it."
Querion whispered to himself, almost unbelieving,
" Inner …in…me?"
The Truth of QuerionBut Shammroy's eyes narrowed. His tone became serious,
"I don't understand. Why do all the villagers hate you? What really happened?"
Querion's shoulders sank. His breath carried years of pain,
"I was hated by my own bloodline… because I was not too strong and too intelligent for them. Even the villagers despised me. To them, I was a curse, a mistake. That's why I became nothing but their rejection. Not only for me those who were hated by his noble blood will have the same life as I do."
His voice cracked, but he quickly hid it behind indifference,
"Forget about me. Tell me instead—why did you ask me to join your legion? What are you even planning?"
Shammroy stopped walking, turned, and faced him head-on.
His words cut through the silence like a blade,
"I asked you because I want you to walk beside me. To change all of this scrap . From this moment, you are not a nobody. You are my legion."
Querion's eyes widened. For the first time, his heart stirred.
He lowered his head, whispering,
"Legion… me?"
And then, slowly, he nodded.
A Night of HungerNight fell. Both of them, exhausted, collapsed under the stars. Their stomachs growled in unison.
Shammroy scanned the forest and found the lake nearby and smirked,
"Hey! You set up the fire. I'll bring us something to eat."
Querion nodded, arranging two logs before the flames. After a while, Shammroy returned triumphantly, holding nine fish.
Querion blinked, surprised,
"Nine? Why bring so many?"
Shammroy laughed, his voice warm,
"Because it looks like you haven't eaten properly in days. Tonight, you eat until you're full."
The two devoured the food, laughter finally breaking the silence that had once been filled with sorrow. As they lay down to rest, Querion asked quietly,
"What do you want to become, Shammroy?"
Shammroy closed his eyes, his voice steady with hidden fire,
"I'll tell you when our whole team is together."
Querion pressed,
"When will that be?"
Shammroy smiled faintly,
"Soon. For now… sleep. Tomorrow, we start searching for the next member of our legion."
The boy exhaled deeply, and for the first time in years, sleep found him peacefully.
The Morning ChallengeMorning came. Querion got up and rubbed his eyes and panicked when he didn't see Shammroy. He searched frantically until he spotted him returning from the forest—two long, strong sticks in hand.
Querion shouted in relief,
"Where did you go?"
Shammroy smirked, lifting the sticks,
"For this. Get ready—it's time I train you a little."
Querion frowned,
"Is that really necessary?"
Shammroy's gaze sharpened, his voice commanding,
"Do you want to become strong?"
Querion's fists tightened. His voice rose with determination,
"Yes!"
Trial of StrengthBy the lake, the duel began. Shammroy didn't unleash his full power—he moved with controlled strikes, each attack designed to teach.
Shammroy barked after dodging Querion's clumsy swing,
"Too slow! Don't drag your feet—your enemy won't wait for you. Don't think about to keep up with enemy, think and observe his moves and strategy."
Querion adjusted, thrusting again, but Shammroy countered effortlessly.
"Your guard is open! Keep your eyes sharp, or you'll lose your life in a real fight. And one more when you want to swing your weapon sharply but accurately, you must keep your thumb from up to the index finger. As the fingers are at same point will make you easier to swing the weapon."
Querion nods.
Over and over, Querion fell and rose. Sweat drenched his face, but each mistake became a lesson, each bruise a step toward strength. Hours passed until both finally collapsed on the grass, gasping for air.
Querion, panting,
"You said… we need to find another member. It's already late. Can we start now?"
But Shammroy sat up slowly, a sly grin tugging his lips. His eyes burned with a different kind of challenge,
"Before that… there's one thing we need to settle. Right here."
Querion's eyes widened as the weight of his words settled in.