Narration
In their earliest years, Oshen taught them the basics—discipline, self-control, and an deeper understanding of the world.
He was patient but unyielding, quick to correct their mistakes but just as quick to praise their successes.
Kitsrir, ever impatient, would often lash out in frustration, his fiery temper getting the better of him. Yet Oshen never wavered, guiding him with a steady hand.
Amris, in contrast, absorbed every lesson like a sponge, his quiet determination setting him apart. Together, the boys grew, their bond with their father deepening with each passing year.
As they grew older, their training intensified.
Oshen introduced them to the art of combat, teaching them to wield a variety of weapons and harness their magical abilities.
Kitsrir excelled in raw power, his strikes fierce and unrelenting. Amris, on the other hand, honed his precision, his every move calculated and deliberate.
Their contrasting styles often led to clashes during sparring sessions, but Oshen saw potential in their differences, encouraging them to learn from each other.
When the time came for Kitsrir and Amris to craft their weapons, Oshen guided them to the forge, a place sacred to their training.
The forge was a marvel, a blend of ancient craftsmanship and modern elements, its heart glowing with a beautiful orange and red flame. Here, under Oshen's watchful eye, the boys began their work.
Kitsrir, true to his impulsive nature, envisioned a weapon that mirrored his duality—a butterfly knife that could transform into a pistol.
He named it "Akane Butterfly," inspired by the vibrant red flowers that grew around the forge. The process was arduous, each step requiring precision and care, but Kitsrir's determination carried him through.
By the time he finished, his hands were blistered, and his muscles ached, but the pride in his eyes was undeniable.
Amris, as meticulous as ever, crafted a dagger that was as much a work of art as a weapon. "Way Finder" was its name, a way for him to guide himself through combat. Gold and silver intertwined along its blade, accented by shimmering blue gems.
Every strike of the hammer, every intricate detail woven into the metal, reflected his unwavering focus.
When the weapon was complete, it seemed to glow with an inner light, a testament to Amris's skill and dedication.
Their first hunt began when Oshen deemed them ready, three months later after getting completely used to their weapons.
Their first mission was both a test and a rite of passage for Oshen, he needed to make this one special. Oshen led them into the dense, shadowy woods that bordered the lands outside their safe home, praying before going deeper.
The air was heavy with the scent of moss and earth, the silence broken only by the distant calls of birds. "This is where you begin," Oshen said, his voice low but firm. "Stay sharp. The smallest misstep can be your last."
The Grim they encountered were wolves, small but vicious. Their eyes burned with crimson light, their bodies twisted and grotesque.
Kitsrir was the first to act, charging forward with reckless abandon. Amris attempted to stop him but wasn't fast enough, charging in with his brother and his dagger drawn towards the wolves.
Akane Butterfly flashed in his hands, its blade cutting through the air before transforming into a pistol.
The shot rang out, clean and precise, and one of the Grim fell. Amris, now hanging back, studied their movements. He noticed how the wolves circled, their eyes always on Kitsrir.
With a sharp intake of breath, he moved, Way Finder slicing through the air. His dagger found its mark, piercing the heart of the pack leader.
The Grim dissolved into dark mist, their bodies fading as their corruption was purged.
Oshen fought beside them, a seasoned warrior whose every move was calculated and efficient. He barked orders, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. "Kitsrir, watch your flank! Amris, stay on the defensive!" Together, they made quick work of the remaining Grim, slicing or shooting through them.
As the last of the wolves fell, Oshen turned to his sons. "You've done well boys," he said, his voice filled with pride. "But this is only the beginning. The true battles lie ahead."
Back at their home, the three sat around the fire, the warmth a welcome comfort after the cold of the woods, eating the same soup that he once made when he found them.
Oshen spoke of the battles he had faced, the lessons he had learned, and the dangers that still lay ahead. Kitsrir and Amris listened intently, their minds racing with thoughts of the future.
That night, as the fire burned low, the brothers shared a quiet moment.
Kitsrir, ever the optimist, spoke of the adventures they would have, the battles they would fight, and the glory they would achieve. Amris, ever the realist, reminded him of the dangers, the sacrifices, and the weight of their responsibility.
"Dude, we're finally going to go on missions with dad! Actually missions, seeing the outside world and learning about it!" Kitsrir shouted while Amris just looked at him while eating his soup, "Why aren't you even semi excited?" He asked.
"Because we are no longer going to be safe in this little haven we live in. Although we're seeing the outside world, we're going to have to face dangers beyond imagination, and I don't want me or you to get hurt."
Despite their differences, they found common ground, their bond as strong as the weapons they had forged. "So, last one to the training grounds have to train it!" Kitsrir says before running off, Amris just grunted like his father and chased after him.