Alex didn’t sleep that night.

  He lay awake beneath the thin blanket in his small room, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as moonlight slipped through the wooden slats above him. The old man’s voice echoed in his mind, over and over.

  “Because it’s your destiny.”

  Destiny.

  It sounded like something out of the stories his mother used to whisper to him at night—before the jungle swallowed his father, and before silence settled into her voice like dust.

  Now, the word felt like a weight, pressing against his chest.

  The village was still as ever, hushed and watchful, as though it knew what he was planning and dared not interfere. And when the morning light crept in, soft and pale, Alex had made up his mind.

  He returned to the edge of the jungle.

  Caelum was waiting.

  The old man stood beneath a twisted tree, his cloak rippling in the breeze. His face, weathered and unreadable, broke into a wry smile when he saw Alex.

  “So,” Caelum said, “you’ve decided.”

  Alex nodded. “I want to go. I want to see the other side.”

  Caelum chuckled. “Not so fast.”

  Alex blinked. “What?”

  “You think you can just walk into the forest and survive?” Caelum raised an eyebrow. “You’re not ready. You’d be dead before nightfall.”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Alex frowned. “But—”

  “No buts,” Caelum said. “You’ll train. One year. No less. Then, and only then, will you take your first step beyond the veil.”

  “A whole year?” Alex groaned. “That’s forever.”

  Caelum’s laugh was dry and low. “Better forever than never.”

  The year that followed was unlike anything Alex had ever known.

  Caelum pushed him to the edge of exhaustion every day—running through the woods, climbing rocks, learning to fight with staff and blade. He trained in silence, in rain, even in moonlight. He learned to listen to the forest. To move with it.

  And Alex, to his surprise, thrived.

  His muscles grew lean and sharp. His senses sharpened. His movements became swift, precise.

  And it didn’t go unnoticed.

  His mother began watching him more closely.

  One morning, as he washed his hands in the basin outside their home, she stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

  “You’ve changed,” she said softly.

  Alex froze. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re stronger,” she said. “Faster. Your eyes… they look like your father’s used to. What are you doing out there, Alex?”

  He hesitated, then forced a small smile. “I just want to help,” he said. “I want to become a hunter. Gather food. Make things easier for you… for everyone.”

  His mother studied him for a long moment, her face unreadable.

  “Just… be careful,” she whispered. “I already lost your father to that forest. I won’t lose you too.”

  Alex nodded, but inside, his resolve only deepened.

  Caelum taught more than just combat.

  Around the fires at night, he spoke of the jungle’s secrets.

  “There are two kinds of creatures in that forest,” he said one evening, tossing a twig into the flames. “The normal beasts—wild, but not impossible. You can hunt them. Feed on them. Learn from them.”

  He paused.

  “And then there are the demon beasts.”

  The fire cracked.

  Alex leaned closer.

  “They’re not born of nature. They’re old. Wrong. Cursed things with blood that burns and eyes like coals. If you see one, boy… you run.”

  “And if I can’t?” Alex asked quietly.

  “Then you fight,” Caelum said. “But know this—demon beasts can’t be killed like others. You must find their core.”

  “Their… core?”

  Caelum nodded. “It’s a shard of dark power buried in their flesh. Heart, neck, tail—those are the most common. But it can be anywhere. If you don’t find it… they don’t die.”

  Alex swallowed hard. “And if I do?”

  Caelum’s gaze met his, steady. “Then they vanish into smoke. And you live.”

  By the end of the year, Alex was ready.

  Caelum saw it in his eyes, in the way he moved, in the quiet confidence that had taken root in him.

  One evening, as the sun sank behind the trees, Caelum led him to the edge of the forest again. The same place they had first met.

  “This is where your path begins,” he said. “Come here tomorrow night. Look for the lantern. That’s your gate.”

  Alex stared at the trees, their shadows curling like fingers in the fading light.

  “And you won’t come with me?” he asked.

  Caelum smiled faintly, almost sad. “We walk our paths alone, Alex. But maybe… I’ll see you on the other side.”

  The next night, under the hush of stars, Alex returned.

  A lantern hung from a crooked branch, its golden glow cutting through the dark. Beneath it, pinned to the tree, was a note.

  Everything comes at a price, boy.

  May I find you on the other side.

  Alex closed his hand around the strap of his satchel.

  Then, with a breath that filled his lungs like fire, he stepped into the jungle.

  And the world whispered around him.