Kin stirred awake. His little arms flailed before he managed to push himself upright, blinking against the pale light spilling through the shutters. The bed was too big for him,always too big. When he swung his legs toward the edge, his toes dangled, nowhere near touching the floor.
"Tch… cursed height," he muttered, his voice soft and scratchy. He wriggled and slid down until his bare feet slapped against the cold wooden boards.
For a moment, he swayed where he stood. At five years old, his body could walk, but not with the balance or certainty of the man he had once been.
Twenty-three years. That's how long since I died. Since the flames. Since… their voice.
He rubbed his eyes with tiny fists and padded to the door.
"They never let me outside," he whispered, bitterness tucked behind a childish lisp. "Not past the gates. All I get are stories of heroes I've already met, legends I fought beside. And yet…" He sighed. "I pretend I don't know them. Because to her, I'm just her son."
The corridor stretched ahead, its stone walls etched with faint dragon sigils that glimmered in the torchlight. Then came sounds ,a sharp cracks followed by a deep thud, then voices. He turned his head and began to follow.
The hall opened into a chamber carved from the mountain.
There she was.
Kanao sat with her blonde long hair braided back, a pale blue robe draped neatly as she leaned against a pillar. Watching.
And before her, Finn moved like a storm.
Two mannequins carved from enchanted wood dashed towards him , their rune-lit joints clicking as steel blades cut through the air. Finn, shirtless, tattoos of writhing dragons stretched across his arms and chest, met them head on. Every step, every strike was fueled by body magic—speed to dart between strikes, reflex to read an opening, strength to hit harder and stamina to keep going when a normal man would drop.
"Faster," Kanao called, her voice soft.
Finn's grin flashed through the sweat. He shifted mid movement, his feet pounding against stone as he ducked a slash, twisted, and shattered one mannequin's guard with his fist. The second came in low, with its blade humming.
Kin froze in the doorway. His small voice slipped out.
"…Father."
Kanao turned, eyes softening. "Oh, Kin." She smiled gently. "The noise didn't disturb you, did it, dear?"
He shook his head quickly.
"Come here."
He slowly walked over to her. She scooped him up with ease, settling him on her lap. His small frame leaned into her warmth as they both turned back to watch Finn's fight.
The mannequins pressed Finn harder. Sparks flew with every clash of steel . Finn dashed forward, his tattoos glowing brighter as he drew on his mana.
Kin's thoughts raced. Still surprises me how they use their mornachs now… enhancements tied to the body. It lacked finesse, but it was effective , which made it dangerous .
Kanao's voice broke through. "It's funny, isn't it? For all that speed, all that strength, he's still one of the weaker Giyome."
"Oi, I heard that," Finn grunted mid swing .
She smirked faintly, slowly stroking kin's hair. "Don't sulk. You're stronger than most captains outside this district. But compared to your brothers and sisters? You know the truth."
Finn blocked, twisted, then shoved the mannequin's blade wide with a grunt. "Then..." he ducked under another swing,"I make being weak look good."
Kanao chuckled softly.
Kin stayed silent, eyes locked on his father's movements. Each parry grew sharper. The rhythm faster.
-Shhhhhhk-
Steel on steel. Finn pivoted his teeth clenched as he drove all his weight into his blade. The mannequin staggered back as Finn swung his sword upward, clean through its neck. Wood cracked. The head toppled and rolled across the floor.
The chamber fell quiet.
Finn stood, chest heaving, blade lowered.
Kin slid off his kanao's lap. His small feet carried him across the stone until he reached the fallen mannequin's sword. He bent, hands trembling, but lifted it. Too heavy, dragging along the floor as he turned.
"…I want to spar," he said quietly. "Teach me, Dad."
Finn blinked, caught off guard.
Kanao opened her mouth she was just about to speak, but meeting Kin's gaze, she hesitated .
She's kept me away from swords since the day I was born. She wants me safe, untouched. But Finn… Finn would let me learn. He'd want me stronger. Better.
Kin looked up at his mother, wide eyes begging without words.
She sighed, shoulders falling as she gave a small nod. "Fine. But Finn go easy on my son."
Finn's grin widened. "He's also my son.trust me, I won't break him."
He lowered into a stance, tattoos glowing faintly, blade ready.
Kin gripped the oversized sword with both hands, clumsy but firm. He slid a foot back, mimicking the stances burned into his soul.
Father and son faced each other.
The air grew heavy.