"I'm going to become a horseman." Elvis had boasted.
The sunny afternoon had roared upon the fields, making them sweaty as they practiced vigorously— like they'd always done before they awakened their talents.
The cousins were barely in their pre-teen years, but they'd already learnt just enough about power and how important it was in a helpless society. And that afternoon as they clashed wooden swords against one another, Elvis had made a determined resolve.
"Tsk." Reyy shook his head in disapproval. "It's easier said than done."
"I'm serious!" Elvis barked. "I want to become so strong, so that I would be able to help others too."
Reyy dug his sword tip into the dirt, staring with a straight look at Elvis's naivety. "Fool. Is it until you're strong before you can become a hero? And don't you know how contagious power is? It could change you... Not to speak of your petty plans."