Satya's First Trial
The night after the Victory Festival, Leon's house felt empty without Alicia's presence. Satya sat in his room, staring at a small piece of cloth that had once belonged to his mother, resting on his lap. Moonlight slipped through the window, illuminating his face, still haunted by echoes of the festival—Alicia's laughter, the villagers' cheers, the stage where the Holy Knight defeated the demon. His promise to Alicia—to become stronger—resonated in his mind, mingled with memories of his family, stolen by goblins.
"I won't let you down, Alicia," he whispered, clenching his fists. "And I won't let the demons take anyone else ever again." He stood, grabbed the training sword from the corner of the room, and began swinging it despite the lingering pain in his arms from previous training. Every swing was a vow—to Alicia, to his family, and to himself. He would become a Holy Knight, no matter the cost.
In the days that followed, Satya pushed himself harder than ever. He woke before dawn, ran laps around Leon's yard with stones strapped to his shoulders, and trained with the sword until his hands blistered. Leon watched from a distance, his eyebrows raised, but said nothing. Satya didn't care. The pain in his body reminded him he was still alive—still had a purpose.
Weeks later, Leon called Satya to the training grounds behind the hall. In front of them stood a ten-meter-high wall, its surface rough, with barely visible handholds. Beside the wall lay a sack filled with stones that looked heavier than Satya himself.
"Today, you'll climb that wall," Leon said, his voice flat but authoritative. "With that sack on your back. This isn't just about strength, Satya, but endurance of the heart. A Holy Knight never gives up, no matter the obstacle."
Satya stared at the wall, heart pounding. It loomed like a mountain, mocking his weakness. But he nodded, tied the stone sack to his back, and began to climb. The first grip felt cold in his hand, and the weight of the sack dragged him down like a demon's claw.
He managed to climb a few meters, sweat dripping from his brow, breath ragged. But midway, his hand slipped. The sack was too heavy, his arms too weak. With a small cry, he fell, landing hard on the ground. The sack slammed into his back, and pain radiated through his body.
"I... I can't," he muttered, his voice cracking. He looked at the wall, then at Leon, who stood expressionless. Doubt crept into his heart. *How can I become a Holy Knight if I can't even climb a wall?* The thought poisoned his mind, dragging him back to memories of his burned village and the family he couldn't save. *I'm too weak. I've always been too weak.*
Leon stepped closer, his shadow falling over Satya. "Stand up," he said, his voice firm but not cruel. "Failure is not the end. This is your first trial, Satya. Will you give up so easily?"
Satya lowered his head, tears welling in his eyes. He thought of Alicia, who believed in him, and his promise to become a warrior she could be proud of. He thought of his mother, father, and little brother—their faces now only memories. "No," he whispered, voice trembling. "I won't give up."
With shaking hands, he stood, retied the sack, and began climbing again. This time, each grip felt like a battle between life and death. His arms trembled, his legs wobbled, but he kept climbing, teeth clenched. When he finally reached the top, he collapsed over the wall, gasping, but his chest swelled with relief.
Leon nodded from below, a flicker of pride in his eyes. "Well done, Satya. But this is only the beginning."
Months passed, and Satya changed. His once-scrawny body began to grow stronger, still small compared to other soldiers, but firmer. His blistered hands grew tough, and the training sword no longer felt like an unbearable burden. He trained from dawn till night, swinging his sword, running, lifting, even when Leon didn't ask him to.
In quiet nights, he would sit in his room, staring at his mother's cloth and talking to himself. "I'll get there," he murmured. "I'll become a Holy Knight. I'll stop the demons—not just goblins, but all the demons Leon told me about." But beneath that determination, fear still lurked: *What if I'm never good enough?*
Leon watched Satya's growth, but never praised him openly. Instead, he increased the intensity of training, as if testing Satya's limits. "A Holy Knight is not just strong," he said one day. "They are hope. You must become someone others can trust, Satya. That burden is heavier than any sword."
One morning, after months of grueling training, Leon summoned Satya to a small arena behind the house. The sun was just rising, casting golden light on the dusty ground where they stood. Leon held a wooden training sword, his face stern.
"Today, you'll duel me," he said, his deep voice full of authority. "This is your final test—for now. Show me what you've learned."
Satya swallowed hard, heart pounding. Leon, the Fang of Asran, a legendary warrior feared by demons. How could an eleven-year-old village boy fight someone like that? His hand trembled around his wooden sword, and dark thoughts crept in. *I'm not good enough. I'll fail. I'll disappoint Alicia, Leon, and my family.*
Leon stepped forward, sword raised. "Focus, Satya. Don't let fear control you."
The duel began. Leon attacked with blinding speed, his sword aiming for Satya's shoulder. Satya dodged clumsily and nearly stumbled. He tried to counter, swinging his sword, but Leon blocked it with ease, sending Satya reeling. Every move Leon made was like a storm—unstoppable—and Satya felt like a leaf in the wind.
"I can't win," Satya muttered between gasps, sweat pouring down his face. "He's too strong. I'll never be a Holy Knight." The thought struck him like a blow, weakening his arms. He thought of his family, dead because he couldn't protect them. He thought of Alicia, who believed he could be a great warrior. *If I give up now, it's all for nothing.*
With a scream full of anger and desperation, Satya pushed forward. He swung his sword with everything he had—not with perfect form, but with a heart on fire. His blade flew toward Leon, and for a brief moment, Leon seemed surprised. Satya's sword struck Leon's arm—not a powerful hit, but enough to leave a small tear in his sleeve.
Leon lowered his sword, eyes widening before he gave a faint smile. "Well done, Satya," he said, his voice filled with respect. "That's the first blow you've ever landed on me. You have the heart of a warrior."
Satya dropped to his knees, gasping for air, but his face lit with relief and pride. Tears streamed down his cheeks—but not from sadness this time. "I... I did it," he whispered, his voice full of wonder. "I really did it."
Leon stepped forward, placing his large hand on Satya's shoulder. "This is just a small step, boy. But today, you proved something. Hold onto that feeling, and let it drive you forward."
Satya nodded, looking up at the bright morning sky. That small strike wasn't a great victory, but to him, it was a sign that he *could* become stronger. For his family, for Alicia, for Asran—and for himself. With a blazing determination, he rose, ready to face whatever lay ahead on his journey to become a Holy Knight.