Chapter 21

Darkness. That was all Aslan could feel. Then, faintly, the glow of a candle cut through the blackness. A small wooden table appeared before him, with a plate of cake and a cup of tea resting on top. Amanda and Ishak sat at the table, smiling warmly at him. The candlelight danced on Amanda's jet-black hair.

"Aslan," Amanda called softly, her voice like a gentle breeze. She held out a piece of cake to him. Aslan tried to reach for it, but his arms felt heavy—as if they were bound by invisible chains.

"Amanda, you… aren't you…"

Before Aslan could finish, a monster suddenly struck him, hurling him away. The candle rolled off the table, setting their small cabin ablaze.

Aslan sprang up and rushed outside, calling Amanda's and Ishak's names. Smoke and fog swirled around him as he ran, shouting into the void—but no one answered.

Then he saw it—a scene he knew all too well. Bodies scattered across the ground, the stench of blood heavy in the air.

Suddenly, a monster lunged at him. A familiar one. The same monster that had taken someone he had considered family.

"Huaaaaah!" Aslan screamed, swinging a sword that had appeared in his hand from nowhere.

But as the slash landed, the monster transformed—into Amanda. Her body bore the mark of his strike.

"No. No. No. No…"

He tried to grab her, but his hands passed right through her. He couldn't touch her.

"We saved you, and this is how you repay us?"

"Amanda died because of you."

"You killed Amanda," Ishak's voice echoed from within the fog.

"No! No! No… I…" Aslan dropped to his knees, clutching his head, trying to shut out the voices. But Ishak's voice only grew louder.

"You killed us," Ishak said, stepping out from the mist.

"Ishak… please don't go. Please… forgive me," Aslan begged, reaching out. But no matter how much he tried to move closer, the distance between them only grew.

Then, the monster appeared behind Ishak. It wrapped its tail around the boy and crushed him into a bloody mess.

"No! No!"

"Hey… hey… it's okay," a soft voice said.

Aslan jolted awake.

Grandpa Erwin was beside him, gently stroking his head.

"You alright, kid? You were screaming in your sleep," he said kindly.

"Huh? It's nothing. Just a nightmare. No need to worry, Grandpa," Aslan replied, brushing it off.

"You're not looking so great. We can postpone training if you want," Erwin offered.

"No need. I'm fine," Aslan said, getting up and stepping out of the cave.

"All right, then. Today, I'll teach you one of my core techniques—how to forge a magic sword," Erwin said as he formed a sword using Tors energy. Little by little, it took shape until it was fully formed.

"Actually, this technique isn't just for swords. You can also create spears, staffs, bows, hammers—whatever you need."

"I already implanted the technique in your mind while you were asleep," Erwin added.

"What? While I was sleeping? So you're the reason I had that awful nightmare?"

"Hey now! I can manipulate dreams, sure, but I didn't give you a nightmare. I don't even know what you were dreaming about."

"But… I guess it's possible the technique influenced your dreams. It's not fully refined yet, so there might be side effects. Hehehe," Erwin chuckled, totally unapologetic.

"Ugh, don't talk about it. That'll just make me feel worse."

"Alright, then. Watch carefully." Erwin raised his hand and slowly brought it down, and a sword formed in the air from tip to hilt. "Even though I implanted the technique in your mind, it'll just feel like a fading dream. But it's not useless. When you try it now, it'll feel familiar—like something you've done before. That'll make learning it easier."

"Do I have to do that exact movement?" Aslan asked.

"Of course not, you dummy! You can forge a sword while dancing if you want. I just moved slowly so you could see the process clearly," Erwin huffed.

"No need to yell. I was just asking. Picturing myself striking that pose in battle sounds ridiculous," Aslan muttered.

"Tch. It looked cool in my head…" Erwin mumbled.

"Now give it a shot. I'll guide you step by step. First, you need to focus and…" Erwin started explaining.

Aslan followed his instructions. But no matter how many times he tried, the sword kept breaking. It would form halfway and then violently shatter.

"Haah… is it really that hard? Even after I implanted the technique?" Erwin groaned.

"I don't know why I keep failing. I'm doing every step right," Aslan said.

"No, you're failing at the most important part—focus. Your mind is a mess. Does this have something to do with your nightmare?" Erwin asked.

Aslan stayed silent. He didn't deny it. That morning wasn't the first time he had dreamed of Amanda and Ishak. But this time, it had felt so real that he'd cried out in his sleep. Even after three years, he still couldn't forget them.

"Tell me what happened before you came here," Erwin said.

"I'm… the illegitimate son of the emperor. But—"

"Wait, what? You're the emperor's son?" Erwin cut in, wide-eyed.

"Yeah… but I didn't feel comfortable in the palace, so I ran away."

"Why would you leave? Even as an illegitimate child, you'd eventually inherit the throne," Erwin said.

"What makes you so sure?"

"Pfft, please. Like they had any other options," Erwin scoffed.

"They do. I have three siblings," Aslan replied.

"What do you mean?" Erwin asked.

"I mean I have three brothers. What's so strange about that?"

"That's impossible. Are you sure they're your real siblings?" Erwin asked, visibly shaken.

"Of course. We all have traits similar to our father."

"This is seriously confusing," Erwin muttered.

"You're the one being weird. Isn't it normal to have four kids? Some palace knights have ten," Aslan said.

To be continued...