The morning after his first true encounter with the Shadow Slayer, Elric awoke to a strange sound. A sharp cry echoed across the ruins of his village. When he looked up, the sky split with the wings of a giant eagle gliding downward. The bird landed gracefully before him, its talons scraping the ground as it extended one foot.
Tied to its leg was a rolled parchment sealed with wax.
Elric's breath caught. With trembling hands, he untied the letter and unrolled it. His eyes widened as he read:
*"To Elric,
Rayn, my student, told me of your story last night. He told me of your loss, your courage, and your stubborn determination to fight against the cursed shadows. If you truly desire this path, come to me. I will train you.
—Orin"*
The signature was firm, confident, carved into the paper like a blade through steel. Beneath it was an address: hidden deep beyond the villages, through winding forests and into the mountains.
Elric's heart thudded. A master. The one who had trained Rayn. The one who could turn him into something more than a scared boy throwing stones.
Clutching the letter, he whispered to himself, "This… this is the path."
With only a small pack and the resolve burning inside him, Elric left what remained of his village. His feet carried him past broken homes, through empty paths, and finally into the untamed wild.
The first day was brutal. He walked under the scorching sun, then through the chill of night, surviving only on wild berries and water from streams. His body ached with every step, but the letter in his pocket reminded him that pain meant nothing compared to the lives he had lost.
By the second day, his legs felt like stone, his throat dry as dust. Yet he pressed on, muttering over and over:
"For my family… for everyone else."
Finally, as the evening sun painted the horizon blood-red, Elric stumbled upon a wooden house perched on the slope of a mountain. Smoke curled gently from its chimney. Lanterns glowed faintly in the fading light.
This was it. The master's home.
An old man stepped out to greet him. His figure was straight despite his age, his eyes sharp as steel, his very presence commanding. His hair, streaked with silver, flowed past his shoulders. His robes were simple, yet there was an aura about him — as if the air itself bent to his discipline.
"You must be Elric," the man said, his voice calm but firm.
Elric nodded weakly. "Yes… Master Orin?"
The man's gaze softened. "Rayn told me about you. You've traveled far… you look exhausted. Tonight, you will rest. Training begins tomorrow."
Elric opened his mouth to protest, but his stomach growled before words could escape. Orin chuckled lightly, handed him a bowl of steaming rice and vegetables, and motioned for him to sit.
That night, Elric lay on the rooftop beside Orin, staring at the blanket of stars. For the first time since the loss of his family, he felt something almost forgotten: safety.
At exactly five in the morning, Orin's voice cut through Elric's dreams like a sword.
"Wake up, Elric. The tough phase of your life begins now. From this moment forward, you must cast away your laziness. If you cling to it, you will die."
Elric rubbed his eyes, still heavy with sleep, but forced himself up. "Yes, Master."
"Good," Orin said simply. "Then follow me."
The master took off running toward the forest trail. His speed was astonishing, his footsteps light yet powerful, like the wind itself carried him forward. Elric sprinted after him, but within moments, sweat poured down his face. His lungs burned, his legs screamed.
"Impossible…" he muttered under his breath, but he kept running.
Through forests, across rivers, and up steep inclines, Orin ran tirelessly, his back never faltering. Elric tripped more than once, scraped his knees, and bit down on his cries of pain. Every time he thought about giving up, the faces of his family rose before him, and his fists clenched tighter.
Hours turned into the day, the sun beating mercilessly on his back. By nightfall, when the moon rose high, they finally reached the peak of the mountain. Elric collapsed onto the ground, his body shaking uncontrollably.
Orin stood tall, barely out of breath. His eyes bore into Elric's trembling form.
"You have spirit," he said. "But spirit alone is not enough."
Elric tried to speak, but his throat was too dry.
The master continued, his voice low but steady. "Now begins your first test."
Orin pointed toward the dark forest below. "I will return home. You will stay here. By dawn, you must find your way back on your own. No food. No water. No guidance. If you succeed, I will train you. If you fail… you are not ready."
Elric's eyes widened. "What? Alone? But—"
Before he could finish, Orin's figure blurred, dissolving into the wind. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
The silence pressed in. The forest stretched out below like a sea of shadows. The path home seemed impossible to find.
Elric's chest tightened. Exhaustion weighed on him like chains. But deep down, a voice whispered:
"Don't stop. Don't give up. If you want to destroy the shadows, you must endure this."
He forced himself to his feet, swaying, staring into the darkness ahead.
The night was long, the path unknown, and the shadows waiting.
Would he reach the master's house before dawn… or would the mountain claim him?
The answer lay beyond the forest.