"Oi, Luke, get up and get ready!"
I opened my eyes to find my sister standing beside my bed.
"Yeah, yeah, gimme a minute," I said, yawning.
"You'd better be—or else..." She wiggled her fingers in warning before striding out of the house.
I groaned and dragged myself out of bed. Three years had passed since the awakening ceremony—three years of training, of proving I wasn't useless despite having no talent. Three years of my sister pushing me harder than anyone thought possible.
Every single morning, without fail, she'd drag me out for training. Rain, shine, snow—it didn't matter. At first, I could barely last ten minutes. Now? I could hold my own against wild animals, dodge attacks I couldn't see coming, and think three steps ahead in a fight.
I'd gotten stronger. Not magically—never magically—but my body had toughened up. I could run longer, hit harder, think faster. I wasn't a Hunter, but I wasn't helpless either.
I threw on my training outfit and headed outside.
My sister was already several yards ahead, beckoning me to hurry. When I caught up, I immediately regretted leaving my bed.
Inside some newly built cages were the things I hated most: wild boars.
"Luke, today you'll be tested on how well you can dodge and use your brain. This will show if all that practice over the past three years has finally paid off." My sister's face was deadly serious.
"Absolutely not. Not these tusked maniacs."
But my sister never really listened. What people called determination, I called a death sentence.
"Try saying that when monsters actually chase you. Luke, ready or not—here they come!" She bellowed, opening the cages.
The boars sensed my sister's immense aura and realized I was the easy target. They charged straight for me.
Three of them. One huge and tough. None of it was good news.
I dodged the first just in time. The second landed a solid hit on my stomach, knocking the wind from my lungs. The third boar didn't even bother getting up. Just lay there, staring at me like I wasn't worth the effort.
Since when did boars start insulting humans?
Well, at least I could focus on the other two.
"Luke, remember what I taught you! Every monster has a weakness—find it!" my sister yelled.
"Easier said than done!" I shouted, narrowly dodging as the two charged at me.
They collided mid-charge, stunned for a moment.
An idea struck.
I needed to make them angrier, more reckless. Let them finish themselves off.
"You two dum-dums, come at me, idiots!" I yelled—and somehow, they understood.
They charged with renewed speed and aggression. I weaved between them, separating them, waiting for the right moment. When they charged from opposite directions, I counted in my mind.
Not yet... wait... no, not yet... now!
I leapt at the perfect moment.
But to my misfortune, those two idiots had zero accuracy and ended up missing each other completely.
"Ah, damn those boars," I swore under my breath. "I'll try once again."
For several minutes, I weaved in and out, sustaining a few minor injuries—bruises blooming on my arms, a cut on my leg. My muscles screamed in protest, but I kept moving, kept thinking.
Finally, the moment came.
I ran toward one of the boars. The other followed—as expected.
I rushed the first boar, flung sand into its eyes, and leapt over it, barely skimming its tusk.
A split second later—
CRACK!
The two slammed into each other, skulls crunching before they dropped to the ground.
Two down. One big boy left.
I turned toward the last boar.
It stared back, as if realizing it now had to finish what its comrades couldn't. It pawed the ground once, twice, then charged with terrifying speed.
I tried to dodge but took a heavy blow to the stomach. Pain exploded through me as I stumbled back, barely holding my ground. My vision blurred. One more hit like that and I was finished.
My sister would step in—she always did when things got too dangerous.
But I wanted to prove I wasn't useless.
"Oi, I'm using my power-up! Give me a shield!" I yelled, motioning toward her.
She bent down, grabbed a shield from the weapons rack, and threw it at me.
I caught it just in time to block the next charge, the impact reverberating up my arms.
"Bring it on!" I shouted, then turned and sprinted toward the cliff edge.
"Luke, don't run away—fight it!" she yelled, but little did she know, I had a plan.
The boar rammed me at the cliff's edge. I held the shield firm, my feet sliding backward on the loose dirt.
It charged again with even more force, and I nearly fell. My heels were at the very edge now—one step back and I'd tumble down into the valley below.
But my plan needed perfect timing and a bit of the boar's own aggression to work.
So I stood there, taunting and waiting for another ram.
"Come on, you ugly pig! That's all you got?"
When it charged again, head down and snorting with rage, I hurled the shield straight at its face and dove to the side.
Caught off guard, the boar barreled toward the cliff's edge—too late to stop.
Thud.
Gone.
I collapsed onto my back, gasping for breath, staring up at the morning sky. One wrong move and I could've gone down with it.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
My sister ran over, her smile so bright it warmed me despite the aches covering my body.
"That was brilliant and stupid." She playfully hit my head.
"Ow! Let's go with 'brilliant' alone now, shall we?" I said, sitting up slowly and wincing at the soreness.
She laughed, then extended a hand and pulled me to my feet.
"You've gotten better, Luke. A lot better. Three years ago, you would've been boar food in the first thirty seconds."
"Thanks... I think?"
"Come on, let's sit for a bit. You've earned a break."
We walked to the cliff's edge—not too close this time—and sat looking over the valley below. The same valley where we'd lost our parents, the same valley where we'd grown together ever since.
The morning sun painted everything in shades of gold and amber. Birds called to each other in the distance.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
"Luke, look over there. You remember that tree?" She pointed to a massive oak in the distance.
It was easily the largest tree I'd ever seen, its branches spreading wide like a guardian watching over the land.
"Oh, I remember it all too well. We spent hours there, playing and having silly fights over toys when we were kids, right?" Warmth flooded through me at the memory.
"Yes... and remember Bertha was always with us, smiling when we fought? I miss her a lot." Her voice softened.
Bertha.
An old woman, a friend of our parents, and the sole reason the two of us were still alive. She'd raised Mia and me like her own grandchildren. She'd died a year ago from illness.
It took weeks for us to recover from that loss.
"She'd be proud of you, you know," Mia said quietly. "Of how far you've come. How hard you've worked."
"She'd probably say I'm still too reckless." I managed a small smile.
"Well, you are." Mia nudged my shoulder. "But that's what makes you... you."
We sat in comfortable silence for a while longer, the breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers and earth.
Then Mia's expression shifted.
Her smile faded, replaced by something heavier. She stared out at the horizon, her jaw tight.
"Luke... remember how I mentioned monsters have been unusually strong lately?"
I sat up straighter. "Yes, I do."
"There's something I need to tell you." Her eyes fixed on the drifting clouds. "I received an owl early this morning, before I woke you."
My chest tightened.
"The Order of Light has arranged a mission. A mystery-tier rift has appeared near the northern border. I've been assigned to lead the strike team."
Mystery-tier.
That was serious. Rifts were classified by danger: common, uncommon, rare, elite, and mystery. Mystery-tier meant unpredictable—powerful monsters, unknown variables, high casualties.
"Can't anyone else do this?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
My sister doesn't back down—especially when others place their trust in her.
"I've given my word. There's no other way." Her voice was steady but tinged with worry.
"When are you leaving?"
"Tonight. It's an emergency... if we don't act, a monster raid could occur. Entire villages could be wiped out. You know how bad those are, Luke."
I did know. I'd heard the stories—settlements reduced to ash and blood, families torn apart.
I clenched my fists, forcing down the knot of fear in my throat.
Mystery-tier. High casualties.
The words kept echoing in my head.
What if she doesn't come back?
I pushed the thought away, but it clawed back immediately. Every mission she took, I pretended I was fine with it. But the truth was, every single time she left, part of me wondered if this would be the last time I saw her.
"Well... kick some monster asses for me." I raised a fist, trying to keep my voice steady.
She smiled—a fragile thing—and returned the fist bump.
"You bet." She was half laughing, half trying not to cry.
This wasn't new to me. The first time she'd taken a mission, I'd made a scene—cried, begged her not to go. But by now, it had happened so often that I'd learned to hide it better.
Still, no matter how many times these missions came and went, that same knot of uneasiness always sat in my chest.
She's my sister. She's risking her life. And I couldn't do anything but watch her go.
We sat in silence, watching the sun climb higher, knowing that by nightfall, everything would change.
When evening came, the sky painted itself in shades of purple and orange.
Mia had spent the afternoon preparing—checking her weapons, packing supplies, writing letters to the Order. I helped where I could, sharpening blades, organizing gear, though mostly I just tried to stay out of her way and not think about what mystery-tier actually meant.
Now we stood outside our house, the first stars beginning to appear overhead.
"How are you getting there?" I asked, hoping for some fancy transport I could watch her take off on.
"Oh, you'll see." She grinned playfully.
A few minutes passed, and I was still waiting for someone to arrive.
"Oi, are you sure the timing was right? Nobody seems to have—"
I stopped as a huge roar echoed nearby.
A gust of wind whipped past, and I looked up—and froze.
A dragon.
A grown, battle-scarred dragon with scales like polished obsidian, eyes glowing amber in the fading light. Its wings stretched wide enough to cast shadows over our entire house. Scars crisscrossed its neck and shoulders—proof of battles survived.
"I thought dragons were considered monsters?" Fear crept up my spine.
"No, they're magical creatures. Don't be rude." She actually looked offended.
"They'll still roast you alive just like other monsters!"
She ignored me.
The dragon landed with a ground-shaking thud, and the rider—Captain Sera, a stern-looking woman in Order armor—dismounted and shook hands with my sister. They exchanged a few words I couldn't hear, nodded to each other, then Mia turned to me.
"Luke, take care while I'm gone... I'll write as often as I can." She pulled me into a tight hug.
Her voice was steady, but I felt her hands tremble slightly.
"Oi, what are you worried about? I may be talentless, but I'm Mia Ellington's brother!" I tried to sound confident.
She laughed, flicked my forehead, then strode toward the dragon.
She mounted with practiced ease, settling into the saddle behind Captain Sera.
The dragon's wings unfurled, muscles rippling beneath its scales.
I watched her adjust her gear one last time, saw her glance back at our house—our home—like she was memorizing it.
My throat tightened.
With a roar and a gust of wind that nearly knocked me over, they took off, climbing into the darkening sky.
I waved until they disappeared beyond the clouds, my arm still raised long after they were gone.
All I could do now was hope she returned safely.
I stood there for a long time, staring at the empty sky, feeling smaller than I ever had before.
Mystery-tier. High casualties.
The words wouldn't leave my head.
Finally, I turned and walked back inside.
The house felt too quiet without her.