The steam hung thick in the evening air, casting ghostly patterns around the trees and water. Einar leaned against the railing, arms crossed, amber eyes distant as if peering into a world beyond the present.
He wasn't thinking about the warmth of the water, nor the serene forest around him. His mind was alive with the roar of arenas, the sharp eyes of scouts, the roar of crowds, the glint of victory he wanted to claim. The world Tournament had been a dream whispered through his brothers' triumphs, and now, it was a goal he could almost taste.
Dean sat a few meters away, silent, watching him. The weight of Leo's death pressed on him like a stone lodged in his chest, yet the sight of Einar's stubborn fire sparked something different—a cautious hope.
After a long silence, Einar's voice cut through the mist.
"Sensei… I want to join the Tournament when I turn sixteen."
Dean's gaze sharpened. His jaw clenched, voice low and steady, carrying the gravity of what lay ahead. "Do you know what that means?"
Einar nodded. "I know it's not easy."
Dean shook his head slowly. "It's more than that. Every nation sends their best. Scouts will watch your every move. Analysts will record every action. The competition isn't just brutal—mistakes are punished. Lives… can be ruined. Sometimes… even lost."
Einar's amber eyes did not waver. "I know. Damon and Rick joined at sixteen—and they won. I want to be like them. I want to win. To feel the pride… the freedom. I want to survive and enjoy the world afterward."
Dean's chest tightened painfully. Leo… seventeen. He won. Recruited immediately. Gone at eighteen. Dead. Right in front of me.
"You have to understand something," Dean said, voice low, trembling despite his effort to remain steady. "I lost someone there. My brother. I can't—won't—let that happen again. Not to you."
Einar's eyes softened. "…I don't want to lose anyone either. Not friends. Not family. Not… you."
Dean's jaw clenched. Good. Fear kept them alive. It sharpened instincts, strengthened resolve, and forced respect for danger. "That fear… it keeps you alive. It teaches you to fight smarter, faster, stronger. You have to control your fire, Einar. If you don't, it will destroy you before anyone else can."
Einar met his gaze steadily. "I promise. I'll listen. I'll train smarter. And I'll win. I'll make my brothers proud… and make sure your past doesn't repeat itself."
Dean studied him, chest tightening, a small warmth creeping in among the old ache. Damn brat… stubborn, reckless, full of fire… just like Leo. But maybe… maybe not doomed.
"Tomorrow," Dean said, standing, his shadow stretching over the misty water, "serious training begins. Not just recovery. Not just exercises. We'll build you into someone who can survive Tournament 334—and maybe, just maybe… come out on top."
Einar's grin broke through the mist, unstoppable and wild. "Yes! I'm ready, Sensei! I won't let you down!"
Dean let out a quiet chuckle, tension easing slightly. "Damn it… stubborn brat. Fine. Let's see if you're worth all this fuss."
For the first time in years, Dean believed.
Einar might survive.
Einar might succeed.
And maybe… finally, Dean could protect someone from the same fate that had haunted him for so long.