Arena filled with screaming of people and children all over, no one could predict that scrawny looking kid could defeat someone twice his size with minimum effort, except one kid, it was Olza, he looked as if he knew that he would win from the beginning. when Johan came to Olza he congratulated him and taps on his shoulder, as always without a flinch on his face Johan thanks him.
some times later it was time for Johans second fight, it was against Olza. Olza looks at Johan and says "don't hold back, this fight is important for me, please do it for me" and Johan nods back. Olza had always been different. Born in a small, forgotten village at the edge of a dense forest, his life was marked by tragedy from the start. His mother, a gentle soul who sang lullabies that could soothe any sorrow, died during childbirth. This left Olza in the care of his father, a once-loving man who turned to alcohol to drown his grief.
From an early age, Olza learned to fend for himself. His father, when sober, was a distant and silent figure, but when drunk, he became a storm of anger and bitterness. Olza bore the brunt of this storm, his small body enduring more than any child should. The villagers pitied him, but their compassion was limited. They had their own struggles and were hesitant to intervene in the domestic affairs of others. Despite the harshness of his home life, Olza found solace in the forest. The trees became his friends, the rustling leaves his confidants. He spent hours wandering through the woods, imagining a world where he was free from pain and loneliness. He discovered a hidden glade with a small, sparkling stream, where he felt a sense of peace and belonging. At school, Olza was an outcast. His tattered clothes and quiet demeanor made him an easy target for bullies. He endured their taunts and jeers with a stoic silence, his eyes reflecting a depth of sadness that his classmates couldn't understand. Teachers tried to reach out to him, but Olza's walls were impenetrable. He had learned early on that showing vulnerability only invited more pain.
When Olza was ten, his father's drunken rages culminated in a tragic accident. One night, in a fit of fury, his father struck him harder than usual, causing Olza to fall and hit his head on the corner of a table. The blow left a deep scar above his eyebrow, a permanent reminder of the life he was trapped in. In the aftermath, his father, horrified by what he had done, fled the village and never returned.
Now fifteen, Olza carried the weight of his past with him everywhere he went. He lived alone in the small, dilapidated house at the edge of the village, surviving on the charity of neighbors and what little he could scavenge from the forest. The villagers' pity had grown over the years, but it did little to alleviate his loneliness.
Despite the sadness that permeated his life forever he had to move on. Olza's story was one of quiet endurance and unspoken pain, a testament to the strength of the human spirit in the face of overwhelming adversity.