It’s early morning, and the boy, inspired by his mother’s words, decides to explore the forest near their house. Driven by curiosity and a desire to understand himself better, he ventures into the woods, where the air is thick with the hum of unseen energy.

  As he walks, he notices scorch marks on the trees, as though lightning had recently struck. Intrigued, he follows the trail until he hears rustling in the underbrush. When he cautiously steps forward, he comes face-to-face with the dog.

  The dog’s red eyes glow faintly, its presence both unsettling and mesmerizing. The boy freezes in place, unsure whether to run or stay. But something in the dog’s gaze stops him—it feels as though the dog is not just looking at him but into him.

  Hesitant yet intrigued, the boy took a step forward. At that moment, the dog moved too, slowly at first, then with growing eagerness. As it reached him, it nuzzled against his hand and, without hesitation, began licking his fingers with warmth and familiarity.

  The boy chuckled, feeling an unexpected sense of comfort in the dog's presence. He ran his fingers through its fur, a smile spreading across his face. It felt as though the dog had always belonged with him—as if it had been waiting for this very moment.

  Without a second thought, he patted the dog’s head and said, “Come on, let’s go home.”

  And just like that, the two walked side by side, the boy leading the way, while the dog followed, its eyes still carrying that mysterious depth.

  That evening, Draemoth was alive with celebration. Lanterns flickered against the dusky sky, and the sound of laughter and music carried through the air. The town had gathered for a grand festival, a time of joy and festivity.

  At home, the boy eagerly approached his mother. "Maa, can I go to the festival with my friends?" he asked, his eyes filled with excitement.

  His mother, setting aside her work, looked at him with a gentle but firm expression. "You may go," she said, "but be sure to return on time. The night is lively, but it does not wait for those who lose themselves in it."

  The boy nodded eagerly, barely able to contain his excitement. He turned toward the door, and just as he stepped out, the dog, which had been silently watching him, stood up and followed. The boy hesitated for a moment, glancing back at his mother.

  She smiled knowingly. "Seems like your new friend wants to go too," she said. "Take care of each other."

  With a grin, the boy patted the dog’s head and took off down the path toward the festival. The dog trotted beside him, its movements graceful yet instinctive, as though it belonged nowhere and everywhere all at once.

  As they walked through the winding streets, two familiar figures emerged in the distance—his friends, Arin and Kael.

  “Hey! There you are!” Arin called out, waving. But as the two approached, their eyes immediately fell on the dog beside him.

  “Wait, where did you get that?” Kael asked, his voice tinged with awe.

  The boy glanced down at the dog, which simply stared back at them, unbothered. “It found me,” he said with a small smile.

  Arin crouched slightly, trying to get a better look. “That’s not fair! I wish I had one too.”

  Kael chuckled, nudging him. “Yeah, me too. A dog that just appears out of nowhere and follows you home? That sounds like something out of a legend.”

  The boy laughed, rubbing the back of his head. “I don’t know… but it feels like we were supposed to meet.”

  The words left his lips before he could even think about them, and for a moment, he found himself lost in thought.

  The dog, as if sensing his contemplation, walked a little closer, brushing against his leg. The boy looked down at it, and for the briefest second, he could swear he saw something in its eyes—something ancient, something knowing.

  The festival’s lights glowed in the distance, the music and cheers growing louder. The three boys exchanged glances before breaking into a run, eager to join the celebration.

  And the dog followed, silent, watchful, and ever so mysterious.

  As the festival came to an end, the three boys made their way back home, their laughter echoing through the dimly lit streets of Draemoth. The air was cool, carrying the distant sound of festival music still lingering in the background. The dog walked beside them, silent yet ever watchful.

  The boy, feeling a sense of contentment after the festivities, suddenly found his thoughts drifting back to something deeper—his own purpose. With a sigh, he glanced at his friends and spoke, “You know… I’ve been thinking a lot lately. I feel like I should choose a goal in life, something worth working towards. But the problem is... I don’t even know where to start. I don’t know what I’m meant to do.”

  His friends, Arin and Kael, exchanged a glance before Arin nudged him playfully. “Well, at least you’re thinking about it. That’s better than most people our age,” he said with a grin.

  Kael, however, had a more serious look on his face. “You’re not alone in that. A lot of people struggle with finding their path,” he admitted. “But for me, I already know what I want.”

  The boy turned to him curiously. “Oh? And what’s that?”

  Kael’s eyes gleamed with determination. “I want to become an Enhanced Being.”

  The boy frowned slightly, unfamiliar with the term. “Enhanced Being? What’s that all about?”

  Kael took a deep breath before explaining. “Enhanced Beings are people who have trained their minds and bodies to surpass normal human limits. They possess abilities that make them stronger, faster, and sometimes… something more. In Zephyros, there's a place called Stormspire Academy. That’s where those who seek to become Enhanced Beings go. They train, they learn, and if they succeed, they come out transformed.”

  The boy’s eyes widened slightly. “Stormspire Academy… I’ve heard the name before, but I never really knew what it was for.”

  Arin chimed in, “It’s not just about strength, you know. The people who graduate from there become warriors, scholars, strategists—people who can shape the world.”

  Kael nodded. “But the entrance test is tough. And once you turn eighteen, that’s your only chance. If you fail, that’s it. No second tries.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I have only three years left. That means I need to get as strong and skilled as possible before the test. I can’t waste a single moment.”

  The boy listened intently, feeling a strange sense of unease and excitement stirring within him. Until now, he had never considered such a path. He had never thought about what it meant to push beyond limits or dedicate himself to a higher purpose. But now, hearing his friend speak with such conviction, he couldn’t help but wonder—

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Could that be his path too?

  The dog, walking silently beside him, turned its head slightly and glanced up at him, its red eyes glimmering under the moonlight as if it could sense the storm of thoughts brewing within the boy’s mind.

  After Kael’s reply, Arin furrowed his brows and asked, “I haven’t thought much about it… but is there really no other way to do something meaningful in life?”

  Kael shrugged, his voice steady with conviction. “I don’t know. Maybe there is. But I’ve already decided my path, and I’m going to stick to it.”

  Gweldig remained silent, his thoughts tangled in uncertainty. The weight of their conversation pressed against him—was becoming an Enhanced Being truly the only way to make an impact? What if his path lay elsewhere?

  As they continued walking, lost in their own thoughts, they reached the crossroads where their paths diverged. Kael stretched his arms and smirked. “Anyway, enough thinking for tonight. Let’s meet up tomorrow—we’ll talk more about it then. Until then, keep thinking, Gweldig.”

  Arin chuckled, patting Gweldig on the shoulder. “Yeah, don’t fry your brain too much.”

  Gweldig gave a small nod, watching as his friends waved and disappeared into the dimly lit streets. He sighed, glancing at the dog beside him. The night air was cool, and yet, something inside him stirred with restlessness.

  What was his path?

  With that lingering thought, he turned towards home, the dog following closely at his side.

  Gweldig returned home, his mind swirling with thoughts from his conversation with Kael and Arin. The dim lantern light flickered in the room as his mother sat on the edge of the bed, folding a piece of cloth. He hesitated for a moment before speaking.

  Gweldig: “Maa… today, Kael told me about something called ‘Enhanced Beings.’ He’s planning to become one by joining Stormspire Academy. He said he has only three years to prepare.”

  His mother’s hands paused for just a second before continuing her work, but Gweldig caught it—a fleeting hesitation. He frowned.

  Gweldig: “Have you heard about them before?”

  His mother nodded slowly, not meeting his eyes.

  Mother: “Yes… I have.”

  Her voice was calm, but there was something else beneath it—something she was holding back. Gweldig noticed the slight tension in her shoulders.

  Gweldig: “Maa, is something wrong? You suddenly went quiet.”

  She turned to him, forcing a small smile.

  Mother: “Nothing, beta. You’ve had a long day. You should sleep.”

  She stood up and began adjusting the bedding, her movements a little too hurried.

  Gweldig: She’s hiding something…

  He stepped forward.

  Gweldig: “Maa, please tell me. You looked worried when I mentioned the Enhanced Beings. Why?”

  She sighed, running a gentle hand over his hair before turning away.

  Mother: “It’s nothing, Gweldig. Some things… are best left unspoken for now.”

  Gweldig: “But why? If Kael is working hard to become an Enhanced Being, shouldn’t I at least know what it truly means?”

  She exhaled softly and turned down the lantern light.

  Mother: “We’ll talk about it another day, my son. For now, rest.”

  Gweldig wanted to push further, to demand an answer, but the way she turned away—questions swirling in his mind.

  Something about Enhanced Beings troubled his mother. But what?

  He wanted to press, to dig deeper. But something in him—perhaps instinct, perhaps love—told him not to.

  Instead, he simply nodded.

  Gweldig: "Alright, Maa… goodnight."

  She turned back to him, the forced smile still on her lips.

  Mother: "Goodnight, my son."

  That night, as he lay on his mat, staring at the ceiling, a quiet decision settled in his mind.

  I won’t ask her about it again. Not until she’s ready to tell me.

  As the golden light of dawn seeped through the windows, Gweldig stretched and rubbed his eyes. He sat up to find his mother standing near the wooden table, a small, worn-out book in her hands. She turned to him, her expression calm yet unreadable.

  Mother: “Come here, Gweldig.”

  He walked over, curiosity flickering in his eyes as she handed him the book. Its leather cover was cracked with age, and the pages looked as if they had been turned a thousand times before.

  Gweldig: “What is this, Maa?”

  She gazed at him, her lips curling into a knowing smile.

  Mother: “This… is what you need before you make any decisions. Read it until you understand. Only then will you be able to decide your path.”

  Gweldig frowned, flipping through the pages, seeing sketches, writings, and passages he didn’t immediately understand.

  Gweldig: “But, Maa… why give me this? Why now?”

  She sat down and motioned for him to do the same.

  Mother: “Because a goal, my son, is not just something you pick. It is something that picks you.”

  He blinked, confused.

  Mother: “A man without a goal is like a river without banks—spreading everywhere yet reaching nowhere. A life without direction is like shooting an arrow into the sky, hoping it will hit something. But an arrow is only deadly when it has a target. A goal is what turns ordinary effort into extraordinary purpose.”

  Gweldig’s grip tightened around the book. Something about her words sent a strange feeling through him—a realization waiting to take shape.

  Gweldig: “But what if I choose the wrong goal?”

  His mother chuckled softly, brushing a hand through his hair.

  Mother: “You won’t. Because a real goal is not chosen by doubt—it is chosen by belief. It is the one thing you would chase even if the world stood against you. When you find it, you will know… because it won’t let you sleep peacefully until you pursue it.”

  She stood up, adjusting the folds of her dress, and walked toward the door.

  Mother: “Read the book. When you are ready, your goal will no longer be a question. It will be an answer.”

  As she left, Gweldig sat there, staring at the book in his hands. The words his mother spoke echoed in his mind, settling deep within him.

  A goal… is something that won’t let me sleep peacefully until I chase it?

  His fingers traced the book’s cover.

  Maybe… this is where I begin.