CHAPTER TWO

Chapter 2: Secret Beginnings

Time Skip: Five Years

At five years old, Kaïdën was beginning to understand the world around him. He knew that martial arts were important in this realm, but he had never grasped just how powerful they could be—until the day his perspective changed forever.

It happened when he was walking home from the market, a book clutched in his small hands. He had stopped near a bustling square when a tall, imposing man stepped forward. Before him stood a massive wooden pole, thicker than a tree trunk and deeply lodged into the ground. The mere sight of it made Kaïdën pause.

The man took a deep breath, his expression steady and controlled. He reached out, gripping the pole with both hands, and—slowly—he lifted.

Kaïdën's heart pounded as he watched the impossible happen. The massive pole rose into the air as though it weighed nothing. The martial artist's muscles tensed beneath his skin, his entire body moving with fluid precision. Then, as if to further showcase his skill, he began maneuvering it—twisting, spinning, and guiding it through intricate forms with an ease that defied logic.

Kaïdën felt frozen in place, completely entranced.

So this was martial arts. Not just fighting, but strength, control, mastery.

The realization hit him all at once. He had always known martial artists were strong, but he had never felt it until now. A new kind of fire burned inside him—a yearning, a hunger to understand, to wield that same power.

But as quickly as the excitement filled him, reality struck. He was just a child. His body was small, weak. In this world, one couldn't begin martial training until the age of twelve, when the body was finally strong enough to endure the grueling practice.

Still, Kaïdën was not the type to wait idly. If he couldn't train properly yet, he would do what he could.

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Kaïdën sat on the floor of their small home, stretching his legs. His father, Thrain, sat nearby, sharpening his hunting knife, while his mother, Lirien, folded freshly sewn fabrics, her fingers moving with practiced ease.

His parents weren't wealthy. His father hunted to provide food, and his mother worked long hours at a sewing company to earn what little coin she could. Life wasn't easy, but they never once let him feel the weight of their struggles.

Thrain glanced at his son, who was now trying to balance on one leg. "What are you doing, boy?" he asked, amused.

Kaïdën wobbled slightly but held his stance. "Training."

Thrain raised an eyebrow. "Training for what? A bird fight?"

Lirien chuckled, shaking her head. "Leave him be, Thrain. If he wants to balance like a stork, let him."

Kaïdën frowned. "I'm not a stork."

Thrain smirked, setting his knife down. "Then what are you?"

The boy hesitated, then stood straighter. "A martial artist."

For a moment, silence filled the room. Then, Thrain let out a hearty laugh, rubbing his beard. "A martial artist, huh? Bit young for that, don't you think?"

Kaïdën's small fists clenched. "I know I can't train properly yet, but I can prepare. If my body isn't strong enough now, I'll make it strong."

Something in his voice made Thrain's laughter fade. His father studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Not a bad mindset." He leaned forward, tapping Kaïdën's forehead lightly with a calloused finger. "But strength isn't just in the body, boy. It's here, too. Don't forget that."

Lirien smiled softly, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Kaïdën's ear. "Just don't push yourself too hard," she said gently. "You have time."

Kaïdën nodded, but deep inside, he knew—he wouldn't waste a single moment.

As the days passed, while other children played, Kaïdën stretched and practiced his balance. He watched his father move through the forests with quiet precision, observed how his mother's hands never faltered in their work. He studied everything, learning from the world around him, preparing for the day when he would finally step onto the martial path.

Even if no one else could see it yet, Kaïdën knew—his journey had already begun.