The Forgotten Vale was a land untouched by human greed. Here, nature reigned supreme, and power was dictated by strength, instinct, and will not by noble birth, wealth, or the approval of others.
This was the world Kael would come to know.
Under Sylara's watchful gaze, he grew not as a human noble would, surrounded by luxury and servants, but as a child of the wild. She did not coddle him, nor did she treat him as something fragile. He had already been discarded once by those who deemed him weak. She would not allow him to be weak again.
And so, the lessons began.
The First Lesson: Survival
From the moment he could walk, Sylara pushed him to move.
She led him through the towering trees, across treacherous cliffs, through rivers that ran deep and swift. She forced him to climb, to run, to fall and rise again. His small legs often trembled with exhaustion, his breath came in short gasps, but never once did he complain.Good.
The weak sought comfort. The strong endured.
At night, she would curl around him, her warmth shielding him from the cold winds. "You are not a mere human," she told him. "Your body may seem frail now, but strength is not just what you are born with it is what you claim."
The Second Lesson: The Wild Does Not Forgive
One day, she brought him to a clearing where a lone beast a massive, horned wolf—lay wounded. Its breathing was ragged, its body trembling from the wounds of a recent battle.
Kael's blue eyes widened with curiosity and concern. "It's hurt," he murmured.
Sylara's gaze was unreadable. "And?"
Kael hesitated. "Shouldn't we help it?"
Sylara did not answer immediately. Instead, she simply observed. The wolf's ears twitched. It sensed Kael's presence, its golden eyes snapping open. For a brief moment, it met his gaze. Then with a final, shuddering breath, it collapsed.
Kael flinched.
Sylara's voice was calm but firm. "The wild does not grant mercy, Kael. The weak do not survive." She turned to him then, her emerald eyes locking onto his. "Do you understand?"
Kael looked down at the fallen beast. The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of blood.
Slowly, he nodded.
The Third Lesson: Strength is More Than Power
One evening, as the moon hung high in the sky, Sylara watched Kael as he sat by a river, staring into the water's surface. He was still young, still small, but already, his mind was sharp.
"I'm not strong yet," he admitted quietly.
Sylara chuckled, a deep and rumbling sound. "Strength is not just power, Kael. Power alone is like fire it can burn brightly, but without control, it destroys everything in its path." She leaned closer, her emerald eyes gleaming. "True strength comes from knowing when to strike and when to wait. When to fight and when to endure."
Kael listened intently.
She nodded, satisfied. "Good. Learn this well. The world beyond this vale will not be kind to you. If you do not rise above it…" She let the words hang in the air, the unspoken truth clear.
It would destroy him.
Kael clenched his small fists, determination flashing in his blue eyes. "I won't be weak."
Sylara's lips curled into a sharp smile.
"No, little one. You won't."