2025-11-08 23:32:59When Darren woke up in the morning, the first thing he saw was the faint glow of sunlight streaming through his window. The air was calm, carrying the quiet hum of birds outside. He stretched, still feeling the strange weight of the dream he had last night. His heart felt heavy, as if the dream had followed him from sleep into waking.
He stepped out of his room and met his parents in the sitting area. “Good morning,” he greeted them with a tired smile. His mother looked at him closely. “How was your night, my son?” she asked. Darren sighed. “It was... strange. I had terrible dreams again,” he said softly. His father exchanged a glance with his mother, concern flickering in both their eyes, but neither spoke right away. After a moment, Darren excused himself and went outside. The morning breeze touched his face gently as he walked toward the backyard. He crossed the small path that led to the field behind their house and made his way to the farm where the animals were kept. The goats bleated softly as he approached, and the chickens scattered around his feet. He began feeding them, spreading grain and pouring water into their troughs. He stayed there for almost two hours, working in silence. The sun had risen higher by the time he was done, shining across the fields like melted gold. When he returned inside, breakfast was ready. He joined his parents at the table, and they began eating together. The house was peaceful — until his father suddenly said, “Darren, I want to warn you about something.” Darren looked up. “What is it, Father?” His father leaned forward, his tone serious. “You must be careful with your powers. You should keep them hidden — deep and quiet. Especially after what happened the day before yesterday.” Darren froze. The memory of his fight with the trader came back instantly — the anger, the fire that burst from his hand, the shock in the trader’s eyes. He looked at his father curiously. “How did you know about that?” His father frowned. “I heard things. People talk. Now tell me — who is this trader you fought with?” Darren hesitated for a second before answering, “His name is Rurik.” The moment he said the name, his father’s face went pale. He almost dropped his cup, his hand trembling. “What did you just say?” he whispered. “Rurik,” Darren repeated, confused. “Why? Do you know him?” His father stood up slowly, his expression dark with anger and fear. “That man is dangerous. He almost killed me when I was in my twenties. You shouldn’t have gone near him, Darren. You shouldn’t have crossed paths with him at all.” Darren blinked in surprise but then smiled faintly. “Well, I guess I beat the hell out of him, Father. He’s not even close to my speed.” His father stared at him in disbelief. “You did what? Did you use your powers — your magic powers?” Darren looked down, then nodded slightly. “It was by mistake,” he said. “But I don’t think he saw much. I left before he could understand what happened.” His father shook his head in shock and frustration. “You don’t understand, Darren. Using that power openly can destroy everything. Once people know about it, they will come for you. You must hide it, no matter what.” Darren frowned, his voice low. “And how am I supposed to hide something that burns inside me every time I breathe?” “I don’t know,” his father admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “But you must. If you don’t, you will bring danger to this family — and to the entire village. That power… it’s not just magic. It’s something greater, something dangerous.” Darren’s mother had been quiet the whole time, her hands shaking slightly. She tried to speak but no words came out. Her face was filled with worry and fear. Finally, Darren stood up and looked toward the open window. The morning sky was bright and beautiful, filled with drifting white clouds. He stared at it for a long moment, his thoughts heavy. “Maybe I’m already in trouble,” he said quietly. “But what’s done is done. I’ve already broken my peace, and there’s no going back.” His father’s voice rose again. “Darren, you keep joking, but this time I’m serious. This is not something to take lightly.” Darren didn’t answer. He walked outside again, feeling the wind on his face. He looked up at the bright blue sky, thinking about his life — his family, his future, and the strange power that burned within him. As he stood there, lost in thought, a faint vibration ran through the ground beneath his feet — so soft that it could have been his imagination. He turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing, but there was nothing there. Only the sound of the wind whispering through the trees. Still, deep inside, something told him this peace would not last.
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THE TRADER'S HIDDEN INTENTION
The forest was silent again after the battle, but the trader did not feel the silence — he carried it with him. Every step he took was heavy, and every breath he released seemed to cool the air around him. His clothes were torn from Darren’s magical blasts, and traces of burned fabric still clung to his sleeves. Despite this, there was a small, crooked smile on his face — the smile of someone who had already gotten what he wanted.Clutched firmly in his hand was the glowing sword he had stolen from Darren.The yellow glow shimmered like a captured sun trapped within steel. He admired it for a moment, running his thumb along the cold surface. “A boy like you,” he murmured, as if speaking to the sword, “should never have held this kind of power.”The trader walked deeper into the forest until he reached a hidden wooden shed, old and covered with moss, nearly invisible unless someone already knew it was there. He pushed the door open, and the wooden hinges creaked. Inside, it was dim — s
THE TRADER'S RETURN
The forest was silent except for the faint rustle of leaves stirred by the night wind. The trader—his real name still unknown to everyone—walked through the narrow path with calm, steady steps. He carried Darren’s glowing sword in his left hand, the blade wrapped in a dark cloth to stop its light from drawing attention. Yet even with the cloth, a faint pulse of yellow radiated through the fabric, leaking like contained fire.He smirked to himself.“This boy,” he muttered. “So foolish. So untrained. And yet… this sword chose him.”He stopped beneath a tall tree, placing his palm against its rough bark. A dark symbol appeared briefly—something carved there long ago, the mark of his secret dealings. As the symbol glowed, a hidden wooden door silently opened at the foot of the tree, revealing a small underground room.He stepped inside.It was dim and damp, lit only by a single lantern hanging from the ceiling. This was the trader’s hideout—nothing luxurious, but everything inside had pur
THE QUIET STORM RISING
The morning sun crept slowly over the horizon, casting pale streaks of gold across the distant ocean where Darren had washed up. The waves were calm now, no longer raging or tossing his unconscious body from one current to another. Instead, they rose and fell gently, as if trying to soothe the bruised and battered figure lying on the sand. Darren’s breathing was shallow, his body still aching deeply from the fierce battle he had fought the previous night. Though his eyelids were closed, his face carried the marks of exhaustion, fear, and defeat. His clothes were torn, drenched, and stained with traces of river mud and seawater. Even in his unconscious state, small twitches in his fingers showed that his body had not fully recovered from the magical energy he had forced himself to unleash in desperation.Around him, the early morning breeze rustled through the palm leaves and the scattered shrubs dotting the shoreline. The silence was calming, broken only by distant calls of seabirds c
THE MYSTERIOUS GIRL BY THE SHORE
The morning sun stretched slowly across the horizon, casting a pale golden light over the distant shoreline where Darren lay unmoving. The waves rolled in and out around him, nudging his body gently as though trying to wake him. The sky above him was a faded blue, still recovering from the darkness of dawn, and the tide had already left small trails of foam near his arms and legs. Darren’s breathing was shallow, almost undetectable, and his skin was still damp from the long journey the river and ocean had forced him through.For several minutes, the shore remained quiet, disturbed only by the soft rhythm of the waves. Then, faint footsteps began approaching from the left side of the beach—slow, careful steps, almost hesitant. The footsteps belonged to a young girl, no older than Darren, who had come to the beach early that morning to gather shells near the rocks. She wore a long, faded blue dress that fluttered lightly in the sea breeze, and her long hair was tied behind her back in a
THE SHORE OF SILENCE
Darren lay motionless on the lonely stretch of sand where the ocean had pushed him onto the shore. His body was half-buried under the cold, wet layer of sand washed over him by the last high tide. Waves rolled in and out gently, as if they were trying to nudge him awake. The morning sun was just beginning to rise, sending thin rays of pale gold across the sky. The wind was cool, brushing over his soaked clothes and leaving him shivering even in his unconscious state. The wide shore was quiet, with only the whispers of the wind and the cries of distant seabirds echoing across the open space.His lips were pale, his face drained of all color except for faint bruises marking his jaw and cheek from the beating he had suffered. His hands were limp by his sides, fingers twitching slightly whenever a wave touched them. He had no sword, no strength, and no idea where he was. The river had dragged him mercilessly, the ocean had tossed him around like a lost leaf, and the shore had finally clai
THE SEARCH CONTINUES
The afternoon sun cast a warm glow across the compound as Darren stepped outside quietly, stretching his muscles after hours of deliberate practice and mental preparation. His body still felt heavy from the previous night’s encounter, but he could sense that his strength was slowly returning. The soreness in his arms and legs had dulled slightly, and although the bruises were still present, they no longer throbbed as sharply as before. His breathing was steady, and a calm determination settled within him.The forest, with its rustling leaves and distant bird calls, felt different today—not in a frightening way, but in a way that reminded him of responsibility. It was silent in a deeper sense, as though the trees themselves were aware of what he had faced and were watching him quietly. Darren took slow steps across the compound, allowing the familiar surroundings to ground him. The smell of the earth, the warmth of the air, and the steady rhythm of nature soothed his mind.Inside the h
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