Leo's arms ached as he tried to lift the wooden blade again. His palms blistered, his muscles torn, but the determination in his eyes hadn't dimmed.
His master sat cross-legged near the fire, silent, watching him. Hours passed, the moon rose, and finally, the old man spoke.
"You swing like fire—fast, violent, unpredictable. But fire without balance destroys its wielder. If you wish to surpass me… you must learn water."
"Water?" Leo panted, frowning.
His master gestured toward the river nearby. "Strike the water. Break it."
Confused, Leo stomped toward the river and swung his blade down with all his might. The water parted for a moment, then returned as if nothing had happened. Again and again, he struck, splashing endlessly, but nothing changed.
"Pointless!" Leo snarled. "It can't be broken."
"Exactly," his master's voice cut like steel. "Water yields, but it never disappears. It flows, adapts, surrounds, and drowns fire when it must. That is balance. That is strength."
Leo clenched his teeth. His master's words carved into him, sharper than any blade.
Days passed. His strikes slowed. He began to listen—to the wind, the river, the silence between his heartbeats. His blade no longer crashed, it flowed. His stance softened, but his movements grew sharper, more precise.
On the seventh day, he faced his master again.
"Come," the old man said.
This time, Leo didn't rush. He circled, calm, breathing steady. When he attacked, his strike wasn't wild—it was fluid. His master blocked, but his eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
At last, Leo's blade grazed the old man's robe. A first.
Leo gasped, astonished. His master smirked. "Now you begin to understand."
That night, as Leo lay beneath the stars, his thoughts burned. Father… if you fought like fire, then I will become the river that swallows flames.
But far away, deep within a dark temple, the cloaked watcher from before knelt before a grand figure whose face was hidden in shadow.
"The boy grows faster than expected," the watcher whispered.
The shadowed figure's voice echoed like thunder:
"Let him grow. The stronger he becomes… the sweeter his fall will be."