The summer that Kael turned fifteen was longer and hotter than most years. Even the trees drooped, their branches bowed low as if burdened by the air itself. Every morning, Kael rose before the rooster’s cry, splitting wood, fetching herbs, or checking on their lone cow—Dol—who was more friend than livestock. His body had grown lean with corded muscle from relentless work, though his face still held the softness of youth. His mind, however, was something else entirely.
'One more inch on your grip and you’ll split the handle,' Tyran murmured as Kael brought the axe down again."I’ll sand it ter," Kael replied aloud, sweat dripping down his brow.
The axe thudded deep into the stump, splitting the wood with a satisfying crack. He wiped his hands on his trousers and gnced toward the field. Dol was grazing zily under the midday sun, flicking her tail at flies.
Then the silence shattered.
A scream—no, a guttural bellow—from across the slope. Dol cried out in panic.
Kael dropped the axe and ran, boots pounding through the tall grass.
What he saw locked his muscles for half a breath.
A creature loomed over the cow, hideous and gangly, with matted gray fur and a jaw that hung too wide. Its cws—hooked and yellow—raked across Dol’s fnk as she backed away, blood staining her side.
'Wargling,' Soren said, voice hushed and sharp.'A scout-beast. Rare this far from the mountain forests.''Kael,' Tyran’s tone was immediate. 'Pick up the axe. Right now.'
Kael didn't hesitate. He snatched the worn woodcutter’s axe from the grass and surged forward.
The beast turned, snarling.
Kael swung.
The bde buried itself in the creature’s shoulder. It howled in pain and shed out, cws catching Kael across the ribs. Pain exploded in his side as he staggered backward, nearly dropping the axe.
'Let me handle it,' Tyran said calmly. 'Give control to Jax.'
Kael clenched his jaw. Blood seeped through his shirt.
'Alright,' he thought, 'Do it.'
'Bout time!' Jax roared with glee.
His vision sharpened. His grip changed. Kael felt himself pushed gently downward—still watching, but no longer moving.
Jax moved with the ease of one who had killed before. No hesitation. No fear. Just fire.
He lunged, driving the axe up into the beast’s neck. Bone cracked. The Wargling shrieked, swinging wildly, but Jax ducked low, ughing in Kael’s head.
'You missed me, mongrel.'
A final swing—overhand—split the skull.
Blood sprayed across the field. The Wargling twitched once, then y still, its eyes wide and gssy.
Jax exhaled, rolling the sore shoulder. 'Damn, that was fun.'
Control flowed back. Kael gasped, lungs drawing in hot air as if he’d been holding his breath. The axe slipped from his hand. His ribs throbbed, but he stood tall, eyes scanning the treeline.
'You're welcome,' Jax added, grinning in the back of his mind.'He could’ve bit your face off, you know.'
Kael didn't answer. He turned to Dol, who was trembling but alive. He rubbed her neck gently.
"It’s alright, girl. You’re safe now."
From the hill above, cnking hooves and armor heralded the arrival of four knights. Their silver-blue tabards marked them as soldiers of the local Duke’s hunting patrol. Their expressions were grim—annoyed, perhaps from being too te.
"You there!" barked the lead knight, his blond hair slick with sweat under his helm. "Stand away from the kill!"
Kael didn’t flinch.
His grandmother came sprinting up the path, skirts bunched in her fists, her breath ragged. "Please! He didn’t mean to interfere. He just… just protected our cow. Please, sirs. He’s a good boy—"
"Granny," Kael interrupted softly, his eyes still on the knights. "It’s alright."
She paused, chest heaving.
One of the knights looked down at the Wargling’s body. "Ruined the trophy head," he muttered. "Hunt wasted."
The blond one scowled. "You should’ve stayed in your house, boy."
Kael’s gaze turned sharp. Inside his mind, Soren whispered:
'Repeat after me. Slow and ft. Make sure they feel the cold, not the words.'
Kael nodded subtly.
He stepped forward, ignoring the blood on his hands. His eyes—shadowed beneath silver-blonde strands—met the knight’s.
"I wonder," Kael said quietly, "if your next prey might be faster. I hope you’re not too slow to dodge next time."
The knight’s hand twitched toward his sword hilt. But he didn’t draw it.
Granny pced herself between them, almost bowing. "We meant no disrespect, milords. We didn’t call for the beast. He saved our Dol."
The knight spat to the side.
"We’re taking the corpse," he said finally, and gestured for his men to lift the body. They did, grumbling.
As the knights rode off, Kael turned and walked silently toward the ruins of Dol’s small shack. The beast’s attack had shattered its wooden sts and crushed one side of the frame.
He led Dol gently to their hut and tied her near the shade. Then he stood, wiping blood from his side with a rag.
"You shouldn’t have begged like that," Kael said suddenly, turning to Granny.
She blinked, surprised. "I didn’t want them to hurt you."
Kael's voice was low, but steady.
"I’m not ashamed of what we are. We live simply, but we’re not less. Don’t ever let them make you kneel, Granny. We’re people, too. We can live the way we want."
Her lips parted, as if to protest—but then she stopped. Something had shifted in him. Not just his height or his strength, but something deeper.
"You… you sound older than you should."
Kael turned back to Dol, stroking her neck gently. "I’ve had a lot of teachers."
That evening, rumors began to spread in the vilge of a lone boy who killed a Wargling with a woodcutter’s axe. Some called it luck. Others whispered about strange things in the boy’s eyes. Granny didn’t comment either way. She simply made Kael tea and cleaned his wound while humming an old lulby.
Inside his mind, the Council had already gathered.
'You took too long letting me out,' Jax said, arms crossed. 'Could’ve ended it faster.''I was waiting to assess its movement patterns,' Tyran replied coolly.'Not all of us are made of math,' Jax snapped.'Enough,' Siddharth’s voice cut through. 'The situation was resolved, and Kael is intact.'
Finn chimed in, mock cheerful. 'Well, that was quite the debut. First blood, first stare-down with entitled nobles. I give it a 7 out of 10. Could’ve used more dramatic fir.'
'You are not rating Kael’s trauma like a pybill,' Soren muttered.
Kael rubbed his temples and sighed aloud.
"I’m still here, you know."
'We know,' Jax said with a grin. 'Just making sure you’re still breathing, champ.'
Kael smiled faintly, despite himself.
That night, lying in his straw bed, Kael stared at the ceiling. Outside, the summer wind stirred the trees.
He could still feel the Wargling’s weight on the axe. Still see the blood.
And yet, there was no fear.
Just the fire. Burning quietly.
And the echoes who watched over him.