In the streets, people watched us in silence. Some slammed their windows shut; there were children hiding in dark alleys. Even without seeing them clearly, it was possible to feel their eyes upon us.
I would say that, among the three of us, most of the attention was focused on me.
Liss walked ahead, guiding us through the narrow streets of Valenreach with firm steps, like someone who knew every turn of that forgotten territory. As we moved forward, it became impossible to ignore the signs of abandonment. A single glance around was enough to understand how many years those people had been forced to survive on their own, without any support from the kingdom.
Poorly maintained houses, improvised shops, the smell in the air reminded me of mold, faces marked by exhaustion. Everything there told the same story.
Liss turned left into a narrower street, and we followed.
I broke the silence.
"Lygni," I called, turning toward her. "You said that man… Obrem… could be a master of the Bloodline."
Lygni walked beside me, her gaze alert, constantly scanning our surroundings. For a moment, she remained silent, as if weighing the question.
"But what exactly is the Bloodline?" I continued. "And what does it mean to be a master of the Bloodline?"
The wind blew between the narrow buildings, lifting dust and making the fabric of our cloaks ripple.
"There are five levels within the Weave," Lygni finally answered, her voice low and firm. "We use those levels to measure how much someone can interfere with it."
She paused briefly.
"Most people never go beyond the first stages. Many don't even realize they are touching the Weave."
Her tone was not instructional. It was blunt. Raw.
"The Bloodline…" she continued, narrowing her eyes slightly, "is not something you learn. It's something you survive."
"Many people die before even reaching the third stage. Kingdoms hunt these people, offering them countless things."
"And that's why those who reach this level are called masters—because they can see the Weave, and it grants them a blessing."
Someone who had reached that level lived like a simple peasant. That was fascinating. Why would someone hide such power? Or perhaps he didn't even know what he truly possessed?
Those thoughts raised even more questions and only increased my anxiety to begin practicing.
"Lygni, when will we start the training? Hearing these stories only makes me want it more," I said. I was anxious. This world fascinated me; diving into it seemed incredible—but also dangerous, as if there were no return.
"We'll establish ourselves here first. Then we'll begin," she replied.
We walked a few more meters until Liss stopped in front of a simple house.
Obrem lived there.
"Obrem," Liss called out in a loud, steady voice.
It took a few minutes, but the door was opened by the same man I had seen the day before. He seemed surprised to see us and walked up to the gate.
"Did something happen, Liss?" he asked, looking at her.
"My patron wishes to speak with you," she said, pointing at me.
He looked at me, visibly startled.
"Your Highness," he said, making a brief bow. "What brings Your Highness to my humble home?"
I glanced around and noticed groups of watchful eyes, hidden behind doors and corners.
"Obrem, may we speak in private?" I asked.
"Of course, Your Highness. Please come in—just don't mind my humble home," he replied, stepping aside to let us enter.
As we stepped inside, it became clear that the humility wasn't only on the outside; the interior confirmed the reflection of a simple life.
He pointed to a worn sofa ahead.
"Please, sit, Your Highness."
I sat down. Liss took a seat beside me, and Lygni, as always, remained standing at our side.
"What does Your Highness wish to speak with me about?" he asked.
I observed him carefully. A simple man, simple clothes. How could a master of the Bloodline live like this? Kingdoms would give anything to have someone like him at their side.
"I came to ask for your help," I said, meeting his eyes.
He seemed startled.
"Me?" he said with a disbelieving laugh. "How could a poor peasant help Your Highness?"
"Liss told me your story and how you managed to help people," I replied firmly, leaving no room for misunderstanding. "I need people like you by my side, so that we may lead Valenreach back to greatness."
He remained silent, clearly unconvinced.
Lygni spoke for the first time.
"Were you once a warrior?" she asked. "A person's scars reveal their past."
A scar?
I hadn't noticed before, but Obrem had a deep mark on his neck. Looking closer, I realized it wasn't the only one. There were others, on his arms as well.
He let out a soft laugh.
"Yes. I was once a warrior. I fought many wars for the kingdom of Durendal," he said. "But now I want to live in peace… at peace with myself."
"You are a master of the Bloodline and chose to live in a territory at the edge of the kingdom?" Lygni questioned.
"I chose to live away from the sword," he replied.
So our potential master was someone who wished to stay far from the battlefield—or rather, far from the life that had wounded him so deeply.
"I didn't come here to ask you to return to the path of the sword," I said. "I came to ask you to help me bring prosperity to these people."
I took a deep breath.
"I don't want to force you, but I feel that without your help, I won't be able to achieve my goal."
"Obrem, I need your skill."
He looked at me in silence and leaned back in his chair, as if weighing my words.
"Your Highness…" he began, looking at each of us in turn. "Have you ever smelled fresh blood?"
His gaze lingered on the three of us.
"Do you know what it feels like to try to breathe clean air, but everything you inhale tastes metallic?"
He closed his eyes for a moment.
"That is the most agonizing sensation on a battlefield. Because all it does is remind you of death… and of how we kill one another in the name of power."