Disclaimer: yeah...never gonna be able to own Khr.

Fon came from a fiercely strict family of martial arts. But as time passed the family changed. Old traditions were opposed by the young who didn't want to be bound and the family broke into factions. He was born just before the grand change of laws and like everything in his else in his clan, it was a swift and fierce shift.

Within the walls of his home, there came to be only one expectation; to be the best. Be it in the arts or riches, you had one path. Up the mountain, to the top, it didn't matter who stood in the way nor how many. You knock them down or lose your existence.

Fon was a prodigy, the very definition. Everything came easily. He was the project that the elders sculpted and the young made to copy.

For the first five years he saw nothing beyond the towering walls that never ended. But he knew – for a fact – that there was an outside. Because trapped inside he could still see the stars, stretching over and beyond the stone borders. He wondered how big it is (the world outside). Was it bigger than his forest? His room was surrounded by acres of land implanted with a combination of trees and bamboo. He could wonder for days chasing rabbits and not see the same piece of land; although that was simply a theory of his, the caretakers would never allow him time for such insolent and childish behaviour.

When he was six he discovered he had a sister. The girl looked similar to him, but only physically. She was free and happier. In his young mind he never once thought himself as unhappy, yet when he heard her laugh he knew. He didn't know such a sound could be made, so innocent, joyous and unconstrained. Maybe he laughed like that once.

Since then he noticed others with similarities to himself and his parents. Not all of them were younger than him and he wanted to ask if they were also his siblings. They certainly weren't servants, not with the fine silks and fabric that wrapped beautifully around them.

He was eight when he walked pass the towering walls for the first time. It was for a competition, a show case of his abilities in "harmless" matches.

However, the high staked competition took little space in the memories of the fierce warrior. The crowded streets full of noise that he glimpsed, those were the memories he valued. The details will never be lost to him. Yet, he did not yearn for them.

When the time came he would be a storm, free to do whatever because there was no one to stop him.

For the next few years it was dull, season past and Fon grew along with his patience. He never dared to act out because he knew his place. When he was younger he as terrified of all the adults, everyone that he seems to encounter were no pushover, especially not the ones that smiled serenely. But after a while he was less and less intimidated. The adults that loomed over him like mountains in his childhood now seemed so…human, fragile, and weak, with bones that he could easily break.

He was a decade old when he thought it was time to show the adults exactly where they stood. He started with his mentor, after all he had nothing left to teach, nothing that Fon didn't already know. Nothing.

The first defeat was taken graciously, his mentor congratulated the young prodigy with earnest, if not a little weary. The second time he had a clear underline of fright. Third, fourth, fifth, sixth… he was full out in panic, sweating like a pig. It was depressing really, to think that this was a man he had once looked up to.

"Please! Please don't tell anyone!" The elder man collapsed to his knees, clenching Fon's shoulders harshly until his hands turned white. Fon had to look down to keep eye contact. Oh, how the roles have changed.

Fon only smiled ever so softly.

The rest of the training time Fon spent exploring his forest. He felt like flying as he sped through the trees, pushing himself harder, faster.

He felt like the wind and storm.