Toya was back at the dinner table in the living room. Everything was normal. A little too normal. They were eating dinner. You could hear the spoons clicking against the bowls echoing strangely, like it was coming from far away. He could see his mother smile, his father grinning, and his sister laughing by his side. But something was off.
A low, humming sound began, like whispers just out of reach. His family's faces blurred for a moment, and then. Drip. Drip. He looked down. His hands covered in blood. He heard screaming. His sister was crying - but her mouth wasn't moving. His father stood in front of him, his eyes shadowed, his face unreadable.
"Toya, run".
His mother reached out for him, but her arm was missing. The shadows of the room twisted and moved, forming a massive figure with glowing eyes. A voice rumbled, deep and cold:
"You are not ready."
"You will fail."
"Run."
He sprinted towards the door, but the floor disappeared beneath his feet. He fell into darkness - falling, falling - until. He wakes up gasping for air, covered in sweat.
He couldn't remember all of what happened, only blood, his fathers warning, and the word run. He felt uneasy but tried to brush it off as nothing more than a dream. But deep inside, something cracked - like an unseen thread pulling tight. He knew. It wasn't just a dream. It was a warning.
Toya stood in the courtyard, his breathing already uneven. His father faced him a few steps away, holding a handful of small rocks.
"This is simple," his father said. "Dodge."
Before Toya could question it, a stone came flying towards him. It barely missed his cheek. Then another. And another. He dodged clumsily at first, moving more out of panic than skill.
"Too slow," his father said, throwing another one—this time, it clipped his shoulder. Toya gritted his teeth.
Again.
Again.
Minutes passed. His legs burned, and his body felt numb. But his father didn't stop.
"Come on, Toya." A sharp voice. "Are you a warrior or a child?"
Something in him snapped. His breath was heavy, his limbs felt like lead, but his frustration boiled over. His father wasn't holding back. He was toying with him. Why did he always have to be so strict? Why did he?
Another rock flew toward his face. Toya moved before thinking. His vision blurred, his blood ran hot.
Crack!
He caught it.
The moment he did, everything changed. His senses sharpened. His exhaustion vanished, replaced with a burning energy. The world felt clearer, as if time had slowed. He could feel his own pulse hammering in his veins - his veins that now pulsed silver.
For a moment, he thought he saw his father's expression shift. Not surprise but recognition.
But before Toya could revel in his newfound power, his knees gave out under him. His head pounded like a war drum. His vision darkened at the edges. It felt like his strength had been ripped from him all at once.
Toya collapsed. His body refused to move. He barely heard his father's footsteps approaching.
"You're not ready," his father's voice reached him - firm, yet something softer hidden beneath it.
Toya struggled to lift his head, his eyes locking onto his father's. The silver hair that had always seemed like a simple trait now felt… intentional. As if it had come from something more than just age.
His father crouched beside him. "Silver Vein is power, but it is also a burden. If you cannot control it, it will consume you."
Toya barely stayed conscious long enough to hear those final words.
It had become afternoon. The sun shining through the window, casting a warm glow across the living room. Toya sat on the floor, his back resting against the couch, while his father sat in the chair besides him. He had just woken up after being unconscious for about half a hour. The air in the room felt still, like time itself was stopped.
"You know" his father began softer than ever before "I wasn't always good at this."
"Good at what?" Toya asked turning his head curious.
"Fighting. Being strong." He chuckled. "When I was your age, I was weak. A coward. I could barely lift a sword. But I had your grandfather." His gaze drifted to the windows looking as if seeing himself out there training. "He was relentless. Even more then I am to you."
"You, weak? Yeah right, as if," Toya scoffed.
"It's true," his father smiled. "But one day he sat me down. Said nothing. Just sitting there, relaxing." A pause. "That was the first time I ever thought I could get stronger. Sometimes you just need to sit down… and breathe."
Toya blinked. He just sat there stunned. His father never talked like this. He was always so focused, so strict, so distant as if he was just besides you but if you took out you arm you could never truly reach him. But this moment felt different. It felt… normal.
His father ruffled his hair, messing it even more up then it already was. "You are doing well, Toya. I know that one day soon you will surpass this old man of yours. I know I push you hard but… I'm proud of you." Toya froze. Proud. His father never said that not even when he found out he knocked 2 soldiers to the ground. For a moment his chest felt warm. A warm consisting of both happiness but also anger. If he's proud of me then why does he still keep secrets? He remembered back to the night before when he overheard his and the major's conversation. But at the same time he felt happy. Happy for finally getting praised by the man he has admired his whole life. "You really mean that?" Toya asked quietly.
"I do" he said it with a smile. "Just don't tell your mom she will think I am going soft."
They laughed a little about this and for a moment Toya felt like things were… normal. Safe. "Dad can I ask one last thing? What is Silver Vein?" he asked his voice hard. His dad sighed, leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. "You aren't ready yet." he muttered. " Get some rest. We'll train again tomorrow." Toya knew his father wouldn't say more so he didn't pursue it further. He just sat there in the quiet house, he let the warmth of the moment settle in. For a brief while, everything felt right. Peaceful. But deep down, a part of him couldn't shake the feeling that this peace wouldn't last.