A dark-haired boy with piercing blue eyes raced down the mountain, the wind rushing around him, carrying him effortlessly as he bounded from rock to rock. His movements were fluid, his body almost weightless, as if the wind itself were his ally. He slid across a narrow, slippery tree trunk, his feet barely brushing the bark as he grinned. With a burst of energy, he leapt from one tree to another, gliding through the branches like a creature of the forest.
In the distance, a commotion snagged his attention. A massive cow, easily three times his size, charged through the woods in a wild frenzy. Its multiple eyes bulged with panic, a soggy, flapping object clutched in its jaws. The creature burst from the forest into an open, prairie-like clearing, kicking up dirt as it thundered forward.
With a grin splitting his face, Ace made a final, powerful leap from the tree. His body soared through the air, landing squarely on the cow's back. The beast's frantic struggles were no match for him he tackled it to the ground with a laugh, pinning it with all his strength.
"Come on, Uta," Ace said between breaths, his grin widening. "It's time to give Grandpa his hat back." He pried the slobber-soaked hat from the creature's mouth, only to be met with a huge, wet tongue that swiped across his face, leaving his hair spiked and dripping.
From the edge of the clearing, a shorter, chubby man emerged, hands tucked into his sleeves across his rounded belly. He watched with an amused smile. "My, my, Ace," he called, chuckling. "Don't be too rough with her. I'd hate to fish you out of her dung pile."
Ace wiped the gooey saliva from his face, raising an eyebrow. "One of these days, Grandpa, you have to teach Uta some manners."
Grandpa chuckled, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I'm sure she'll learn."
The two stood together in the open field, golden sunlight bathing the world in warmth, casting long shadows over the tall grass. The sky stretched brilliant and clear above them.
"Ace, why do you persist in holding your breath?" Grandpa asked, his voice soft but laced with quiet concern. "It's okay to breathe."
Ace turned, confusion etched across his face. "What do you mean? I can breathe fine."
Grandpa shook his head with a gentle laugh. Then, with a twinkle in his eye, he began to hum, his voice weaving a melody that floated on the breeze. As they started back toward the forest, the giant cow lumbering beside them, he sang
A boy walks alone with his heart held tight,
A mask on his face to hide from the light.
His words stay silent, his eyes don't speak,
But inside him, a storm begins to leak.
Oh, breathe, young one, let it all flow,
The world will listen, it's okay to show.
Let your heart bloom, let your voice ring,
The world's much softer when you let it sing.
The song drifted on the wind, its quiet simplicity carrying a subtle weight as they passed through the trees. Ace glanced at his grandfather, Utakame, who smiled with knowing warmth.
They walked until the forest opened into a small clearing marked by a towering dragon statue, its stone scales glinting in the light.
"Hey, Grandpa, are we safe?" Ace asked, his voice steady but edged with unease.
Utakame didn't meet his gaze, his eyes fixed ahead as he strolled forward. "So the war's whispers have reached my grandson, have they?"
Ace turned to him, concern flaring in his blue eyes. "Grandfather, stop dodging me."
Utakame's lips curved into a pleasant smile. "Yes, we'll be alright as long as we hold to our peaceful ways, the universe will guide us along our path."
"Grandfather, the world's at war," Ace shot back, his voice rising. "What do you mean 'peaceful'? Our people can level mountains, protect ourselves yet you'd waste that power, even in the face of danger?"
As the words left his mouth, something caught Ace's eye, embers floating into the sky in the distance. The faint sound of shrill screams and muffled explosions grew clearer as they pressed forward. In a heartbeat, Ace and Utakame surged ahead, the wind blurring past them.
They skidded to a stop inside a tiny village. Carnage surrounded them blood splattered the dirt paths, lifeless bodies lay crumpled amid the chaos, and fire devoured wooden homes. Two men tore through the wreckage, their bold, sweeping movements shattering buildings as flames licked the ruins. In the center stood three others, each clad in metal armor adorned with small wings on their backs. A yellow circular brand glowed on their arms, pulsing as they unleashed blinding beams of light from their hands, ripping through fleeing villagers with merciless precision.
Ace launched himself at them in a burst of speed, his piercing blue eyes blazing with defiance. "Ace, NO!" Utakame screamed, his hand outstretched in desperation.
As Ace swung at the nearest man, the towering figure ducked with unnatural grace, seizing Ace by the neck in one fluid motion. "Hm," the man mused, his golden eyes glinting against his dark skin and white hair. "I was told your people don't fight." He glanced at his comrade. "Thought that's why we picked this job. A easy sweep for the king."
The second man snorted. "Just a rebellious brat. End him quick before he gets too annoying."
The first man's hand flared with light, forging a golden sword that shimmered with heat. He drove it slowly into Ace's stomach, the blade sizzling against his skin. Ace choked, blood spilling from his lips as pain seared through him. With a flick of his wrist, the man hurled Ace to the ground, where he crumpled, clutching his wound as blood pooled beneath him.
The attacker loomed over him, raising the blade for the killing blow. Ace's vision blurred, his mind reeling Grandpa… no… when a shadow darted forward. Utakame threw himself between them, arms spread wide. The sword plunged down, faster than a heartbeat, piercing the old man's chest.
For a moment, the world fell silent. The screams, the crackling fire, the clash of metal all faded. Utakame's body shuddered, then slumped forward, collapsing beside Ace. His head tilted toward his grandson, eyes dimming as a final breath escaped him.
The silence pressed against Ace like a weight, thick and suffocating. His vision swam, the edges darkening as the pain in his stomach flared, a white-hot echo of the light-blade that had torn through him. Blood slicked his hands, his grandfather's lifeless form blurring beside him. Guilt clawed at his chest—I should've been faster, stronger—and the world tilted. His knees buckled, and he collapsed into the crimson-stained dirt, the screams and fire fading into a distant hum as darkness swallowed him whole.
When Ace woke, the air was cold and still. Night had crept in, the sky a bruised expanse of stars above the smoldering ruins of the village. His body ached, every muscle screaming as he dragged himself upright. His hands instinctively flew to his stomach, expecting the gaping wound but his fingers found only smooth, scarred skin beneath the torn, blood-crusted fabric of his tunic. He froze, breath hitching. Healed? How?
The question died as his gaze swept the carnage. Bodies lay scattered like broken dolls, their faces frozen in terror men, women, children he'd known his whole life. The air reeked of ash and death. And then he saw him Utakame, crumpled in the dirt, his chest a ruin of charred flesh, his kind eyes staring blankly at the sky.
Ace's breath caught, a jagged sound tearing from his throat. "Grandpa…" The word was a whisper, then a wail, building into a scream that ripped through the silence a heart-wrenching, primal howl that echoed off the shattered homes. It was a sound of loss, of rage, of a world unmade. His stomach churned, and he doubled over, vomiting into the dirt, the bile burning his throat as tears streamed down his face. He clawed at the ground, nails scraping through blood and ash, then at his own arms, his chest, as if he could tear the pain out of himself.
"No, no, no!" he sobbed, his voice breaking. Hours bled into the night, his cries rising and falling until his throat was raw, his body trembling with exhaustion. He pounded the earth with his fists, smearing mud and blood across his skin, until he could barely lift his arms. Finally, he slumped beside Utakame's body, his chest heaving, his spirit hollowed out.
The stars stared down, indifferent. Ace's gaze drifted to his grandfather's face, and memories flickered unbidden Utakame's warm laugh as they fished by the stream, the way he'd hum those old songs, his gentle hands guiding Ace through the forest. He saw his grandmother too, her soft voice weaving stories by the hearth, her smile fading in his mind as he realized she might be gone too, lost in the flames.
His grief twisted, hardening into something darker. He glared at Utakame's still form, his voice a choked snarl between tears. "You old fool… you goddamn bastard…" He punched the ground again, his knuckles splitting. "If only you'd fought back if you'd let us fight we'd still be alive! They'd still be alive!" His words dissolved into sobs, his hatred warring with love, frustration boiling over at the peaceful ways that had left them defenseless. "Why, Grandpa? Why'd you make us weak?"
Ace curled into himself, his tears soaking the earth, his body lifeless under the weight of his anguish. The night stretched on, cold and endless, and in the silence, a seed of resolve took root a burning vow to never be powerless again.
Ace's body felt like lead, his spirit a hollow shell. The cold earth pressed against his cheek, his tears long since dried into salty streaks. His grandfather's lifeless form lay beside him, a silent anchor in the dark. Exhaustion dragged at him, his eyelids fluttering as the night's chill seeped into his bones. The distant crackle of dying embers faded, and with a final, shuddering breath, he slipped into sleep.