Rushing through the house, the striking figure broke down the doors leading to that of the child. Curses were holding the air heavy as the father dragged his own blood from the comforts of the bed to the icy courtyard. Stumbling to ground, confusion spread across the face. The four year old looked in fright, before he could react the father used a wind spell sending the child flying back into one of the walls on the other side.
"Grab your sword and fight, you worthless ape." The contempt in his voice was evident as he pulled out a different tome. "You let the heart leave, you should have cut down that stupid whore!"
A low growl emitted from the child's mouth before he grabbed his steel sword, charging his father. The blade sharpening as it races across the floor gaining sparks whilst the child raced forward. His strength was meaningless as the father used a wind spell again to throw the child back.
The dawning light started to peek into the courtyard, collapsed laid the rusty child fiercely gripping his sword. The father combed back his blacken hair as he approached the child. Kneeling drop his eyes danced in rage.
"For someone of my blood to be so weak, I hear by disown you and the pure thought of your existence. You shall leave my home and Plegia because if I ever catch you within the borders, I shall have you executed for Grima's sake."
Words cut deep and nothing hurt the child than to lose everything, but the staff of the house proceeded to throw the child out of the walls and one maid snuck to him a basket, a basket of his survival. Whispers to him about Ferox to the north will be his safe haven. With the last of tears drying, the child ran, he ran through the drifting land. Frightened and alone. His training, meaningless, his knowledge, pointless.
Days, possibly months have occurred. The child's light wear were soon becoming worthless as the temperature kept dropping, his breath becoming more and more visible along with a landscape fading out of the despair into blossoming life.
Once he spotted lights that he dream for so much of since the dread hell he was put through. Falling to his knees with the rest of his weight on his forearms, he laughs. He laughs away the family he thought he had with tears forming, laughing to cure the abandonment his mother and brother did and the abuse his father laid out for not being chosen.
Who gives a damn. You were just born, this is your life! You have a greater purpose than self pity now rise.
"Huh?" The child looks around, but quickly shook the exhaustion. Raising to his feet, he walks into the village of lights. The roads were brown in some places, but the rest was white from the powder that laid across the land. He stumbles from house to house with fasciation all over his face. Though spotting a door wide open he promptly shuffle towards it, oddly it was just a large bald man hovering over an anvil striking the metal within the clamp.
"Uh, e-excuse me." Coughing repeatedly afterwards to the point his diaphragm constricting. The only thing he got was a glance out of the man with him gesturing to come forward.
"Where goes your family?" It was deep and unsettling, but also soothing.
"Is this Plegia? Or did I make it to Feox?"
"Regna Ferox? Unless there is another country like us then I never heard of it. If you were looking for Plegia, I would rather not. That land is a dying land."
"So this is Feox! Thank you sir." Sorrowful smile spreading across the child's face only allowing this rustic hair to cover his tears. He truly made it.
"Say what is your name kid?"
"It is Reflet."
"Plegian, hm. Are you planning to return to your family where they may be or stay within my home?" The jest flew over the child's head.
"My . . . My family had disowned me, I have no home sir."
"Well shi- I can make room for you to stay with me, but we will need you to have a name with no relations to the lower kingdom. Us villagers are not to kind when it comes to that mad king and waste land." He glanced around the room to an oil portrait that he received in exchange for farming equipment. Scratching his head, "How about from now on I call you, Wolf?"
"If it means a new home, I will gladly accept."
" 'ight then Wolf, get some rest. I have a delivery for the Khans at full rise and we will need to be getting up early for that along with a discussion if a Khan wishes to train you to become their sole fighter." Wolf only nodded, his life really has just begun though the information didn't make much sense to the four year old's mind as he was just happy not to be in the cold any longer. Snuggling closer to the fire, he rested his head in his arms and drifted to slumber. Reminiscing the fights with his brother and the treatment of the staff. His parents never came into play after the haunting journey.
The crack of light peeked through some trees as the old man fully loaded his wagon before lightly shaking the child. The blacksmith didn't expect the child to freak out and draw his sword. Chuckling to himself the blacksmith watched amused as the four year old slowly lowers the steel sword into the sheath.
"That sword is a little too big for you, don't you think?" His response was a head shake, clearly not use to the early waking. "Well then, come on we need to get moving. I never wish to see a Khan angry, it would be worse than your das- mad king." Leading Wolf to his wagon, though the kid made a break for a bush nearby to relieve the stress that was welling up his bowels. Promptly heading back to the older man who was containing his laughter. "We get pots for that you know, don't have to ruin some poor scrubs."
The kid was flushed almost the same red as his hair from embarrassment, life couldn't get worse than the first morning anew. Hopping onto the wagon the kid saw a blanket resting on the railing, grabbing it and wrapping to around his thin body.
"You hot blooded? Well makes sense because of your Plegian heritage. The heat is always prominent on that side of the border."
The conversation ended there, the ride lasted a good five hours though it was five hours of peaceful silence. No risk of death though the blacksmith and Wolf had their meal whilst the wagon was moving, but food is food in the world of hunger.
Time faded when the pair arrived at a massive struck, the palace of the khans and more importantly it was Arena Ferox. Hopping off the wooden seat the blacksmith went to the back and gestured Wolf to follow. Unloading swords, axes, lances, spears and anything that have a hint of metal and bringing it indoors where guards and the khan of the west Basilio. A huge smile plastered on his face and to Wolf's surprise, almost bare to the bloody cold.
"Hey, blacksmith comes to replenish my win. I see you also brought a very young lad with you." Causing Wolf to hide behind the leg of the blacksmith.
"Actually Khan Basilio, I was wondering if you could take young Wolf here to be your fighter."
"Bahahaha! This little guy can't compete with my current guy. I won't risk the loss for him, my friend."
"Khan Basilio, please at least take him and train him to be the greatest fighter. He came up to my doorstep with only his clothes, a basket and a steel sword slung around his shoulder. This child is special" the blacksmith leaned in close to Basilio whispering words inaudible to Wolf who kept getting glances from the people.
"Alright, alright, I'll take the boy to train him. I won't say he is fighting material, and in ten years, if he isn't able to surpass my top man then I'll leave him for Flavia to take him if she so wishes."
"Oh thank you Khan Basilio!" Turns to Wolf, "I know your stay with me is short, but believe me when I say the Khan is the best person you can get to train you. You're special Wolf, it's obvious when you made it to me from all the way in Plegia."
Special? Yes, but not for the same as is your purpose that is truly special.