Soon, Vayu and the others stood before Asurageha, its entrance was carved from a big rock like the maw of a slumbering beast. Two guards stood watch, their eyes sharp and unreadable. One by one, they were allowed through the massive iron gates and as the doors shut behind them, the noise of the outside world faded into silence. The path inside lead upward, the air grew cooler, and a faint mist clung to the walls. After walking for some distance and climbing higher into the mountain's heart, Vayu began to notice shapes forming through the haze — small huts scattered across ledges and flat stretches of rock. When they finally reached the plateau, what lay before him was no mere outpost — it was a hidden settlement. The camp inside Asurageha was nothing like Vayu or Aspen had imagined — it was a world of its own, every corner was build for one necessity — the necessity to survive.
When they entered through the inner gates, a chill swept over them. Tall trees and mist-shrouded cliffs surrounded the camp like walls, sealing it away from the outside world. The hunters had built everything by hand — wooden huts lined in neat rows and paths laid out carefully so no space was wasted. What struck Vayu most was how organized everything was. Nothing felt random. Everyone moved with a purpose — some mending traps, others sharpening blades or tending to fires. There was no idleness here, every person had a task, every hour was productive. They were taken past the main square, where a large notice board stood pinned with parchment — mission assignments, patrol rotations, and updates from the elders. Beyond that was the supply area, a long wooden structure with shelves full of neatly labeled crates — dried meat, herbs, ropes, arrows, bandages — all accounted for and arranged with military precision.
Then came the living quarters. Each hunter was assigned a small cabin built from dark timber, only large enough for a single straw mat, a chest, and a pot on the chest. The roofs slanted low, and windows were narrow slits, enough to let in a trickle of light. It wasn't meant for comfort — it was meant for rest, and nothing more. Yet, despite their size, every room was spotless, maintained as if every item inside had its place. The training grounds lay further up the slope — a wide clearing surrounded by wooden fences and filled with scattered dummies, weapon racks, and chalk markings for sparring zones. But what truly surprised them both was the stable.
Some time ago...
Today, they were told to rest for the day, as the hunt would begin the next morning. However, Vayu and Aspen received a different order — they were to spend the day learning how to ride a horse, "Horse?" Aspen blurted out, glancing at Vayu. They had heard of horses before — powerful beasts that could run very fast, — but neither of them had ever actually seen one. The stables were enormous as dozens of horses stood in perfect rows, their black and brown coats gleaming under the lantern light. Each horse had its own stall lined with straw, its name etched neatly on a wooden tag above the gate. Hunters moved among them with practiced care — cleaning hooves, brushing coats, murmuring softly to calm them. The smell of hay and leather mixed with the faint scent of smoke and steel. Then came a tall man with a scar running across his jaw, "You'll learn to ride one soon enough," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "But remember — these creatures aren't tools, they're your partners, you have to take care of your horses, because they will be the one who will help you through the forest and carry your load, your bonding with your horse can mean life and death inside this forest"
He turned to face them both. "You'll start learning from today, everyone here is your senior — if they give you an order, you follow it without hesitation."
"Yes, sir," Aspen replied quickly.
Vayu said nothing, his gaze still drawn to the horses. Something about this place stirred a strange feeling in him as his heart beat with excitement. Soon they were inside the stable to choose their own horse. Six strong, well-fed horses stood before them, their coat gleaming under the dim light filtering through the wooden stable roof. The air was thick with the scent of hay and saddle oil, and the occasional snort or stamp of hooves echoed softly. Aspen moved first, his eyes landing on a broad, chestnut-brown horse. The creature had a muscular frame and a bold stance — much like Aspen himself. Without hesitation, Aspen stepped closer, his hand brushing against the horse's neck. The animal didn't flinch. Instead, it leaned into his touch as if acknowledging his choice.
Vayu, however, stood still. He didn't want to simply choose a horse. He wanted one that would choose him. He walked slowly into the center of the stable, closed his eyes and activated Overdrive — just slightly and soon his heartbeat accelerated, echoing in his ears like the pounding of distant drums. He remembered something from their old village book: "Horses can hear the rhythm of one's heart" as his heart pulsed faster, every horse turned their head toward him — their ears flicking, but soon Vayu stopped using overdrive, the pain hit instantly — sharp, burning and his knees buckled. He gasped, clutching his chest.
Then, amidst the uneasy silence, one horse stepped forward.
It was tall, sleek, and black — so black it seemed to swallow the light around it. Its mane shimmered faintly like rippling shadows. It approached slowly, its steps measured and confident. When it stopped before Vayu, it let out a snort "frrhhhhh", its warm breath brushing against his face. Vayu lifted his head, meeting the horse's eyes — dark and intelligent, with a hint of wildness. For a moment, neither of them moved.
"The name that came to his mind was Guru," he thought — fitting for a creature so composed, so wise-looking. But he immediately dismissed it. No, he thought, that name belongs to teachers, to guides. This one is different.
He smiled faintly, placing a trembling hand on the horse's neck. That night, after a long day of training, Vayu returned to his room. The quarters were small and efficient — just like everything else in the camp. Four walls of rough wood, a single narrow window that let in a thread of moonlight, and a straw mat on the ground that served as a bed. There was nothing else — no luxury, no clutter, only what was necessary. The air inside smelled faintly of dry grass and pine. He sat down on the mat, muscles aching, his body still buzzing from exhaustion. Despite the pain, a faint smile crept across his face — he couldn't stop thinking about the horses. The day's training had been far from what he imagined. When the instructor first mentioned horse riding, Vayu had pictured galloping through the forest. But reality was different, for half the day, they weren't even allowed to ride. They simply walked beside their horses, guiding them, learning their pace, their temperament.
After that they were told to get on the horse then Jump off Again, repetitively. He must've done it more than three hundred times — mounting, dismounting, falling, getting back up. Every muscle in his legs screamed, the insides of his thighs burned like fire. But he didn't stop. Neither did Aspen. Only in the last part of training were they finally allowed to ride in a small circular enclosure. The horses moved at a slow, deliberate pace, but even that felt like a challenge. Balancing and matching the rhythm of the horse's movement — it wasn't just about sitting still. Each rise and fall demanded timing, control and awareness. He had to push his body slightly upward when the horse moved forward, keep his knees tight against its sides, pull the reins to stop and nudge with his heels to go.
It was tiring — yet there was something thrilling about it.
Every time Vayu felt the horse move beneath him, every synchronized breath, every heartbeat that aligned with the creature's rhythm — it felt alive, powerful. The discomfort didn't matter. For the first time, he understood why riders formed such strong bonds with their horses. As the moonlight brushed his face through the small window, Vayu lay down, his body felt heavy but his heart was light. His last thought before drifting into sleep was of his horse — its beautiful eyes.
Tomorrow, he would ride it again — better this time.
Vayu laid down on his straw bed, the rough strands rustling softly beneath him. His body ached from the day's training — every joint, every muscle throbbed with fatigue. But before he could even think, sleep claimed him instantly.