Chapter 3 : The last look back

The next morning—

Cael rearranged his workdays to make time for training.

He stood outside their alley shelter, watching the old man adjust the straps of his worn-out bag.

"Hey, old man," Cael called out. "What should my training focus on?"

"From the basics," the old man replied without looking up.

His voice was steady, his posture relaxed.

Cael frowned. "Basics? After all this time?"

The old man finally turned, meeting his gaze. "I never trained you these past years because I wanted to let you explore your Imprint—and your mind. That was the training."

Cael tilted his head, curious.

The old man stepped forward, rubbing his temples. "Contrary to popular belief and those rigid academy regimens, starting intense training under someone else's vision too early can limit a person's creativity. Especially with Imprints."

He pointed at Cael's head.

"The mind during childhood is still unshaped—yet to be constrained, unbound by the physical laws that adults impose upon it. That is the most fertile time to imagine freely, and that freedom is crucial when developing your Imprint."

Cael nodded slowly, beginning to understand.

"You mean Imprints grow with how we think… and how limited that thinking is?"

The old man smirked. "Exactly. Our powers are shackled by the cages we build in our own minds."

A breeze passed by, stirring dust in the alley. The air felt lighter somehow.

"From today," the old man continued, "we will work on both your physical and abstract attributes."

He dropped his bag with a thud. "Endurance, strength, reflexes… and focus. Inner clarity. Presence. We'll train them all."

He started listing off techniques, moving his hands animatedly as he described balance drills, breathing rhythms, exercises with weighted stones, meditation beneath freezing waterfalls, and striking practice with trees. Cael couldn't tell if the man was serious or trying to scare him.

"And we're leaving this place," the old man added, hoisting the bag over his shoulder again.

Cael blinked. "Wait—what?"

"It's time," the old man said firmly. "Our home is where we train now."

Cael didn't argue. He followed him inside, helping gather their few belongings.

He took one last look at the alley—the chipped bricks, the distant hum of trains, the scattered noise of life. From afar, the city looked like another world entirely.

He knew the next time he returned, he would be stronger than ever before.

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Two Days Later – Mountainside

The mountain air was crisp and wild.

Cael had spent the last two days climbing, running, carrying stone-filled sacks, and punching logs wrapped in cloth. His muscles ached. His palms were raw. But he kept going.

Each morning began before the sun rose.

They'd sprint around the base of the mountain, carry rocks up and down steep slopes, balance across fallen trees, and chop firewood with dull blades. Every task required awareness—no sloppiness, no wasted motion.

It felt like something out of an old martial arts film.

Midday was for strength training. The old man made Cael push, lift, and pull weighted sleds made of scrap wood and stones. They didn't have much, but the old man said that training didn't need luxury—it needed discipline.

Afternoons were for combat drills. Cael practiced stances, footwork, shadowboxing, and target strikes. The old man corrected his posture, his angles, and his rhythm. He never shouted. He didn't need to.

And when the sun began to dip, they would both sit by the creek in silence.

That evening, the silhouette of Cael and the old man training near the mountainside looked like a painting—carved in amber light, framed by rust-colored clouds. The sound of wind, leaves, and running water was their only background music.

Cael exhaled slowly as he dropped to one knee.

Sweat dripped down his chest and back, soaking into the dirt.

His arms trembled. His legs burned. But he smiled to himself.

He had never felt more alive.

The old man remained nearby, doing his own strange stretches in stillness. He barely acknowledged Cael, as if teaching through presence rather than words.

Cael scooped cool water from the creek and drank deeply.

It slid down his throat like salvation. He had never known water could taste so good.

As twilight descended, the two of them returned to their small campsite.

A simple canvas stretched between trees, logs used as seats, a fire pit made of rocks. It wasn't much—but it was enough.

They had caught a wild rabbit earlier that day, and now its meat sizzled over the open fire, filling the air with an earthy aroma.

Cael sat on a rock, poking at the flame with a stick.

The old man sat opposite him, sharpening a blade.

"You're doing well," the old man said after a while.

Cael raised a brow. "You actually complimenting me?"

"I said you're doing well. That's all. Don't get cocky," the old man smirked.

They both laughed softly.

"Do you think I'll be ready next year?" Cael asked.

The old man nodded slowly. "If you keep this up—mentally and physically—you'll not only be ready... you'll make an impression."

Cael's heart stirred at the thought.

The flames danced in their eyes as the meat finished cooking. They shared the meal quietly, savoring every bite. It wasn't fancy, but it filled the soul.

"Y'know," Cael said between mouthfuls, "this is probably the first time I've eaten like this. Peaceful, wild, real."

The old man chewed slowly. "Nature's honest. That's why I like it."

"Though you should be careful. The world has changed since the emergence of imprints. If you think we are the only ones who evolved then your dead wrong". The old man warned Cael.

Of course Cael knew what he meant. Humans were not the only one evolved during the beginning of imprints.

Even animals evolved too. Though their transformation differed from humans. They grew bigger, faster and stronger.

The world of Gaion slowly evolved too, though it was very slow.

They sat together a while longer, watching the stars appear one by one.

Later, they retreated into their makeshift tent—two thin sleeping rolls laid out over pine needles and blankets.

Cael lay down, staring up at the fabric above him, thinking about everything he'd learned. His muscles ached, but his mind was calm.

"Hey," he said softly. "Thanks… for doing this."

The old man didn't respond immediately. Then, in a low voice:

"You've always had it in you, Cael. I just waited until you were ready."

Cael closed his eyes, smiling faintly.

The sound of crickets, distant owls, and the quiet crackling of the last embers soothed the air.

And so the two drifted off, wrapped in silence and starlight,

their new journey only just beginning.

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