Extra Chapter – The Training Days with Elyndra
The sun filtered through the treetops, tinting the forest with golden glimmers. The breeze carried the scent of wildflowers, and the murmur of a nearby stream set a calm rhythm. It was a perfect day for anyone… except for a boy who could barely hold his breath between gasps.
"Faster, Kael!" Elyndra's firm voice cracked through the clearing like a whip.
The boy ran with all his might, his bare feet striking the damp grass. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and his lungs burned as if they were about to burst. With every step, Elyndra's bow whistled behind him, loosing arrows that landed just inches from his back.
"U-ugh…! No… more!" Kael whimpered, stumbling over a root.
Thwip! An arrow brushed past his ear and buried itself in the trunk before him. The boy froze, eyes wide in terror.
Elyndra, standing on a branch above, watched without blinking. Her silver hair gleamed in the sunlight, and in her hand, another arrow was already nocked.
"If you stop, you die." Her voice was so calm it chilled the air.
Kael clenched his teeth, forced his trembling legs to move, and began running again. The elf's lips curved ever so slightly—satisfied.
---
The Forest Refuge
Hours later, Kael lay sprawled on the grass, his shirt torn and his breathing ragged. Elyndra, by contrast, looked unscathed, seated on a rock as she observed her small apprentice.
"You did better than yesterday," she said, handing him a water flask.
Kael grabbed it with trembling hands and drank as though he had crossed a desert. When he finished, he glared at her with eyes still burning with resentment.
"That wasn't training… that was… an attempt on my life!" he grumbled, hugging the flask to his chest.
Elyndra raised an eyebrow.
"Do you think your enemies will spare you just because you're a child?"
Kael lowered his gaze, remembering smoke, flames, and the voice that haunted his dreams.
"…No."
The elf watched him in silence. That answer, so dry and cold, was not one a child should give. Yet that was what made him different.
"Then get up. Tomorrow the arrows will be faster."
Kael groaned and collapsed onto his back, staring at the sky.
"It's not fair…"
Elyndra glanced at him from the corner of her eye. For an instant, a maternal smile graced her lips, but she quickly hid it.
---
The Art of the Dagger
In the following days, Elyndra handed him a pair of short daggers. They weren't lethal—made instead from hardened wood. Kael accepted them with awe, as though they were treasures.
"They're light," he said, moving them clumsily.
"A dagger doesn't need brute strength," Elyndra explained, positioning herself behind him to correct his stance. "What it needs is precision… and resolve."
Her guiding hands rested over his, adjusting the angle of the blade, the weight on his body, the placement of his feet. The boy stiffened, intimidated by the closeness of the elf.
"Breathe." Elyndra lowered her voice to a whisper. "Feel the air. Listen to the forest. Your enemy always leaves a sound, a gap in the silence."
Kael closed his eyes, trying to imitate her. At first, he only heard the pounding of his own heart. But little by little, the wind and the birds melded into a constant murmur—until a creak in the branches made him react.
Swish!
Kael spun and swung a clumsy slash, barely grazing the wooden dummy Elyndra had placed.
"…Damn it." The boy grit his teeth in frustration.
Elyndra crossed her arms, watching.
"Not bad. But your mind is full of rage. A dagger doesn't answer to anger—it answers to control."
Kael lifted his gaze, and in those eyes, Elyndra saw a dangerous shadow.
"One day…" Kael whispered. "I'll make them pay."
The elf sighed. That vow, spoken with such firmness, was the spark that kept him alive. But it was also the blade that could destroy him.
---
Quiet Nights
Not all days were deadly training. Some nights, Elyndra allowed herself to treat him as what he was: a child.
Seated by the fireplace, Kael devoured a bowl of vegetable stew while Elyndra worked on her embroidery in silence. The firelight warmed their faces, and the forest outside remained calm.
"Elyndra…" Kael said suddenly, his mouth still full. "Why are you helping me?"
The elf paused, surprised by the question. She set her fabric aside and looked at him.
"Because you didn't deserve to die in those ashes."
Kael stared at her, as if searching for something more in her answer.
"…So, are you my mother now?" he asked innocently.
Elyndra blinked, startled. Her heart skipped a beat, though her expression stayed serene.
"No. I'm not your mother. But… if you want, I can be someone you trust."
Kael lowered his head, stirring his spoon.
"…Alright."
A soft silence filled the cabin. Elyndra looked at him tenderly. Sometimes, that cold child revealed glimpses of the innocence stolen from him far too soon.
---
Trial in the Rain
One day, clouds covered the forest and the rain began to fall. Elyndra did not call off training.
"The enemy doesn't wait for the weather to clear," she said, handing him the daggers.
Drenched and shivering, Kael lunged at the wooden dummy. His movements were sharper than before, his strikes quicker. Elyndra watched closely, correcting each mistake with a firm voice.
But the mud betrayed him. Kael slipped and fell hard, scraping his knee.
"Aaagh!" he cried, fighting the pain.
Elyndra rushed to his side, kneeling to examine the wound. Blood mingled with the rain.
"Fool…" she muttered, pulling out a cloth to clean it. "You don't need to push yourself so far."
Kael looked up at her, holding back tears.
"I have to! If I don't, I'll die weak like them… like everyone in my village!"
The elf pressed her lips together, then pulled him into her arms, holding him against her chest as the storm drenched them both.
"Then train, Kael… but train to live. Not to die consumed by hatred."
The boy trembled in her embrace. He didn't reply, but the way he clung to her spoke louder than words.
---
A Disciple's Oath
That night, while Kael slept, Elyndra watched him in silence. His face, usually so hardened, looked vulnerable beneath the bluish glow of the magic crystals.
She gently brushed his hair with her hand—a gesture she would never dare when he was awake.
"Kael… I hope you never forget you're not alone."
As if in answer, the boy murmured in his sleep:
"…Elyndra…"
The elf closed her eyes, stifling the emotion welling up within her. In that moment, she made a silent decision.
As long as she lived, she would protect that boy.
Even if he grew into an assassin, even if darkness called him, she would be the hand holding him from the edge.
The forest, eternal witness, kept her vow in the stillness of the night.
---
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Kael fell and rose countless times. He learned to move like a shadow, to listen to the forest, to wield his daggers with certainty.
But beyond technique, he learned something far more important:
That someone was waiting for him at home.
Elyndra—with her scoldings, her arrows grazing his skin, her warm silences by the fire—became the root that kept him alive.
And though Kael didn't yet understand it, that bond would one day be the only thing strong enough to face the cruel fate awaiting him.