The sun rose, driving away the remnants of night. I stood near the cliff where the first rays of dawn fell, gilding the stone in gold. It was the place I had buried my master. The wind tugged at my clothes, carrying the scent of earth and salt from the valley below, but all I could feel was the weight of memory pressing against my chest.
Arthur's grave lay silent before me, carved into the peak that overlooked the forest where he had trained me. Now, the forest had become my own training ground. Two years had passed since his death, and four years since I had climbed to the rank of Sword Expert. Yet I stood at its bottleneck, unable to break through to the realm of Sword Master.
His words echoed in my mind, sharp as the day he had spoken them: "I can guide you until you become an Expert. But to reach Mastery, you must create your own world with your own hands, through your own experience."
I understood now what he meant. To forge that world, I could no longer remain within the narrow confines of the barony. My strength had outgrown its borders. The academy awaited, and with it, the trials that would shape me into something greater.
Only three weeks remained before I would leave for the Royal Knight Academy. Three weeks before I stepped beyond the safety of familiar woods and into the vast empire beyond. The cliff, the grave, the forest—all had been my crucible. But the true forge of destiny lay ahead.
I placed my hand against the stone, whispering softly, "Master, I will carry your teachings with me. When I return, it will be as more than a Sword Expert. I will carve my own path, and I will become a Master."
The rising sun bathed the grave in light, as though Arthur himself was watching. I turned away, my resolve hardened. The world beyond the barony was waiting, and I would meet it with blade in hand.
A low, vibrating growl echoed through the clearing. It wasn't a sound of hostility, but of greeting. Out of the shadows prowled Mother a massive, gold-flecked tigress. Trailing behind her was her cub, now larger and more energetic than the day I had mistakenly scooped him up, thinking he was a stray kitten.
"Hey there, big girl." I reached out as she nudged her heavy head against my palm. Her fur felt like coarse silk, vibrating with the power of a true apex predator. "Still haven't forgiven me for the 'kidnapping,' have you?"
It had been quite an incident. Two months ago, our parents were away from home. Naturally, that was the moment Asha came in looking smug, cradling what looked like a ball of golden fluff in her arms. It was a kitten or so she claimed with fur so soft and a belly so chubby that my siblings, Helga and Herold, immediately gathered around her with wide, sparkling eyes.
Asha didn't just come to show off the "cat"; she came to brag. "My brother Jon brought this back from the forest for me," she boasted, stroking the creature's head. "He's so brave and caring. He even faced a pack of wolves to get it!"
I sat in the corner, "meditating," but I could feel the pressure rising. Helga and Herold turned their glowing gazes toward me. Those silent stares were louder than any shout: Why can't our big brother be cool like Jon? Why don't we have a fluffy kitten?
To save my pride and stop their pouting, I groaned, stood up, and headed into the deep woods. I figured I'd find a stray cat or a mountain lynx cub something cute enough to shut Asha up. Instead, I found a lone, sleeping "kitten" under a fern. I scooped it up and ran back.
It wasn't until the village hunters started screaming and the "kitten" sprouted four-inch claws that I realized I hadn't brought home a house cat. I had brought home a saber-toothed tiger cub.
What followed was chaos circus acts, desperate attempts to lead them back into the forest, and finally knocking the mother tigress unconscious just to move her. In the end, I carried her to my training grounds. That was how the infamous Incident of How I Met Your Mother came to an end.
They've lived here ever since.
Now, as the tigress pressed her head against my hand and her cub bounded playfully around my legs, I couldn't help but smile. In this strange world, even my mistakes had become companions.
Leaving the cliffside, I made my way down the winding forest path toward the village. The heavy scent of pine gradually gave way to the familiar smell of woodsmoke and damp earth.
Our house stood near the edge of the barony's border a sturdy, timber-framed home surrounded by my father's garden of wild herbs. As I approached, the front door flew open, and a blur of motion came charging out.
"Leon!"
Before I could brace myself, Herold threw himself into my stomach, followed closely by Helga, who grabbed onto my arm like a leech. At eight and ten, they possessed an endless supply of energy that even my Sword Expert reflexes struggled to manage.
"You were gone all night again!" Herold protested, looking up at me with puffed-up cheeks. "Father said you were practicing with your sword, but Jon said you were just slacking off in the woods!"
"Jon has a big mouth," I said, gently ruffling Herold's messy hair. "And for the record, I was working."
"Did you see the big cat?" Helga whispered, her eyes wide with mischief as she tugged on my sleeve. "Can we go play with it today? Please?"
"Absolutely not," I said, giving her forehead a light tap. "Mother Tigress isn't a plaything, Helga. If you get too close, she'll turn you into breakfast."
"Leon's right," a voice called out from the doorway.
My father stepped out into the crisp morning air, wiping his hands on an old cloth. His face bore the gentle lines of a man who had spent his life working the land and gathering herbs, but his eyes were sharp. He looked at me at the mud on my boots, the sword strapped to my waist, and the subtle exhaustion lingering in my posture.
"Your mother made warm porridge," Father said, offering a soft, knowing smile. "Come inside before your future wife eats your portion out of spite."
A chill ran down my spine. "Who… who are you talking about, Father? Who is my fiancée?" I asked, my voice tight with desperation.
"Isn't it my daughter Asha? That's what we talked about at dinner, right, my dear son-in-law?" my uncle Elliot intervened smoothly.
Inside, the kitchen was alive with the sound of clinking bowls and the steady chatter of family. Asha sat at the wooden table, nursing a cup of tea. When I walked in, she cast a quick glance toward me, her lips curling into her usual sharp smirk.
"Look who decided to join the living," Asha drawled, swirling her tea. "I was beginning to think you'd moved into the forest permanently. Or did Jon out-swing you again during training?"
"Jon's blade is heavy, but his footwork is predictable," I replied smoothly, pulling out a stool next to her. "Besides, somebody has to keep an eye on the monsters out there."
"Right, the 'monsters,'" Asha teased, though the playful edge in her voice softened as she looked at me.
Mother stepped over from the hearth, setting a steaming bowl of oats and honey in front of me. She rested a warm, calloused hand against the back of my head, her expression a mix of quiet pride and lingering worry.
"Eat," she said softly. "You've been training continuously for days. You need your strength."
I looked down at the simple, hot meal, feeling the contrast between the cold, solitary peak where Arthur lay buried and the noisy, crowded warmth of this room. These were the people I was striving to protect. With only three weeks left before I had to leave for the Royal Knight Academy, every moment in this house felt precious and fleeting.