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Martial arts were said to exist for the sake of saving others. At least, that was what I was told growing up in the Fireheart Clan.
From childhood, they taught us that our strength was meant to protect the people of Emberhold City—that martial arts were a gift of duty, not destruction.
But that naïve phrase never once sat right with me.
Even as I grew older, even as my teachers spoke of honor and virtue, I never believed it.
To me, martial arts were forged for one purpose alone—to kill.
To rip apart your enemy. To shatter what stands before you into dust and silence. Whether it's used for good or evil depends entirely on the one holding the blade.
And I've lived long enough to see that truth for what it really is. I've felt it. The raw, terrifying nature of combat—the primal purpose behind every stance, every strike, every breath.
I've seen too much of it. Felt too much of it.
And honestly… I never wanted to experience it again.
