City

[Outskirts of The Kingdom Of Joceus]

[Location: Deeren Forest]

Lars watched the boar fall, the finality of it barely registering above the shock echoing through his veins.

It wasn't the clean kill that made his breath catch – any knight worth his salt could do that. It was the how. The faint glow surrounding Elio's blade, the echo of a cry he'd half-heard... it wasn't just technique, but the manifestation of will.

Aura.

A word reserved for swordsmen who honed their skill into something nearing magic. He'd trained thousands of recruits, and seen a few gifted ones, but this…A child, barely seven years old, had unconsciously grasped what took seasoned warriors years to achieve. Elio was a prodigy, a rough, uncut diamond of potential.

A surge of something like pride warmed Lars's chest, a sensation almost forgotten, before guilt pricked at it.

All those gruelling lessons, the pushing, the harshness – had they honed Elio's skill or merely awakened this latent power within him? And did it even matter? Here, in this clearing slick with a monster's blood, stood not a liability, but a boy with the potential to eclipse anything Lars had ever been.

As he approached his son, the boy's usual impassivity was replaced by a wide-eyed wonder that warmed something long dormant in Lars's chest. Gently, he ruffled Elio's hair. "Well done, son. I'm proud of you."

Turning towards the massive boar carcass, a touch of calculation replaced his earlier surprise.

From his pocket, he withdrew a simple silver ring, slipping it onto his finger. Then, with a gesture almost like a clenched fist, a wave of energy shimmered over the boar, and its bulk vanished as if it had never existed.

Elio gasped, eyes wide. "What was that?"

"A pocket ring," Lars explained, keeping his usual calm expression. "Useful for transporting things."

"Can I have one?" Elio's voice held a childlike eagerness that was usually absent.

"No," he said, the word blunt but not unkind. "These are rare, and you haven't earned the right to such tools yet." 

He started back towards home, adding, "This catch should be enough...for the entire week, at least."

With a disappointed pout, Elio fell into step behind him. Whatever instinct had fueled his victory, faded, replaced by the familiar dullness. But even as his shoulders slumped slightly, a spark of something new flickered within his blue eyes.

...

...

[30 minutes later...]

...

...

[Home Estate Of Yassin's]

Morning sunlight filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the rough-hewn wooden table. The air hung heavy with the smell of seared meat and spices – remnants of the feast Elio had devoured. He patted his stomach, a contented sigh escaping him.

BURRRP!

Lars, across the table, had eaten sparingly, watching him with an unreadable expression. It was a change from the old days when Elio barely managed to finish a single plate, but it did nothing to erase the distance between them.

TWEET! TWEET!

A birdsong, sweet and insistent, broke the silence. Lars rose and crossed to the window. He unlatched it, shooing the small bluebird perched on the sill. It chirped indignantly, a scroll tied to its leg.

Frowning, Lars unfurled the parchment...

shit...

A curse slipped through his lips as his eyes scanned the contents. He turned to Elio, his face a calm.

[To Knight Captain: 1, Lars Yassin]

[Dear Mr. Yassin An urgent summons. The Knight-Captains are called to headquarters for meetings with the Head commander and the Squadrant Commanders. We ask that you arrive as soon as possible.]

[From The Head Of Commanders: Lauren Ashborne]

As Lars shrugged back into his armour, Elio stared at the heavy cape with its embroidered emblem. "Captain Number 1," he murmured. "That looks cool."

Hearing his words, Lars paused. An almost imperceptible softening touched his eyes. "Going out today?"

"I… guess so," Elio shrugged, the usual eagerness missing from his voice.

"I left some coins on the table," Lars said gruffly. "Explore the city if you wish. Just…don't lose it, and be back before nightfall."

With that, he was gone, the door closing with a heavy thud, leaving Elio alone with the lingering scent of cooked boar and the unfamiliar smell of freedom.

Elio slipped the pouch of coins into his pocket, its weight a strange comfort. He'd only ventured outside the house on hunting trips, or with Lars on errands. This was...different.

[The Kingdom Of Keziah; Main City: City Square]

The City Square burst upon his senses like a whirlwind. Stalls overflowed with vibrantly coloured fabrics, exotic spices, and shining pendants.

Voices clamoured in a dozen accents, laughter mingled with the calls of street vendors and the clatter of horseshoes on cobblestones. It was exhilarating, yet overwhelming.

The scent of fresh-baked bread lured him closer. A baker, her face flushed and hands dusted in flour, grinned at him. "Care for a sample, young sir?"

Elio blinked, confused. Samples? His mind flashed to Lars, placing countless plates of meat of every variety on the table, each a test of his ability to consume and survive.

Carefully, he counted his coins. Surely, this 'sample' wasn't free.

He offered a single coin to the amused baker. "No, no, child," she chuckled kindly, "a sample is a taste for free!" She winked, handing him a whole loaf still warm from the oven. "Put those coins away. This one's on me."

Elio's eyes widened as he bit into the soft bread. Its sweetness was a revelation, contrasting so starkly with the endless cycle of bland or over-spiced meat that dominated his meals with Lars.

*[Elio's Imagination of Lars]*

- HAHA! EAT BOY! THE MEAT YOU CONSUME WILL MAKE YOU STRONGER! Lars broke out in laughter as Elio was stuffed with countless proteins, and he consumed all of the foods nonstop.

For a moment, Elio felt a shiver of guilt remembering Lars and his obsession with meat but the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the present faded, replaced by the simple joy of this unexpected kindness.

"ah-umm...wha-t... um." He tried speaking to the baker about this food he had never heard of in his life and as if she knew the baker's smile grew kinder.

"It's called bread," she explained, seeing his hesitation. 

Elio's face lit up at this new word, bread. It sounded far more promising than any cut of meat he'd eaten. Cautiously, he took the offered piece. With his first bite, sweetness exploded across his tongue. Relief washed over him. Something new, something...good.

He held out his hand, not with a coin, but a silent gesture his father often used when bartering at outposts. The baker, puzzled, spread her floury palm. Elio carefully placed a coin in her hand, then bolted away before she could protest.

A gasp followed him. "Wait!" A confused shout echoed through the square. But Elio was already disappearing into the crowd, too quick to catch.

Looking down at her hand, the baker's eyes widened. It was no copper, not silver, but a gold coin shining warmly in the sunlight.

A smile bloomed on her face. "Anytime, young master!" she yelled after him, her voice barely reaching his ears. "Anytime you want another loaf, you'll find one here!"

Elio smiled to himself. 'Bread' was all he had thought about and even something resembling victory all in a single morning. as he continued running he plunged deeper into the maze of the city.