Rafil was tailing his father's back in the forest near the mountains he once lived on. His father kept looking ahead and never turned back. In Rafil's eyes, his father's back was as broad as the mountains itself, encompassing seemingly endless strength. As time went on, Rafil kept falling behind, the distance between the widening. A desperation took over Rafil, to catch up to his father's back. Yet no matter how hard he ran, the distance between the two kept widening. Rafil tried to call out to his father in vain, his voice failing him.

Rafil heard a loud snort from his right. As he turned he saw the boar he had met on the mountain, its blackened flesh billowing smoke. Chunks of burnt flesh fell from it, revealing a mangled set of ribs. Rafil's heart was thundering in his chest, as tears welled up in his eyes, all his knowledge failing him. The boar charged at Rafil after letting out a mean snort.

Rafil turned and ran as fast as he could. His father was nowhere in his thoughts now. All he wanted while facing his current predicament, was to survive. To live. He kept on running but the sound of the boar's hooves clashing with the ground was catching up with him. He closed his eyes and tried as best as he could to get away. When the boar was nearly on top of him, he tripped on a root; screaming as he fell.

"You are too weak. You run in fear from wild pigs. You are not worthy of travelling with me".

Rafil heard his father's voice. He opened his eyes to see he was standing in middle of a forest, his father along with a man was standing in front of him. The man was smiling looking at him, as if spiting him. Condemning him for running in fear.

"You are a coward. You are weak. You are good only for becoming fodder for others who are stronger than you" the man said, as he smirked. Tears were rolling down his cheeks by now, clouding his vision.

"I won't run. I promise. I will never even cry. I will become stronger. Take me with you Pa. Don't leave me. Don't leave me. I promise."

Rafil's father shook his head in disappointment. "I won't accept you like this. You are the Rafil I know. You are not my son." Rafil by now had fallen to his knees, his breath coming in sobs. Tears now had completely blurred his vision.

"Hahahah, what are you crying for child. I will call you son from now on. You are my son now. Call me father or pa or whatever you prefer. Come on son, we have dinner to prepare" said the man next to his father.

Rafil rubbed his eyes and through a slit he dared to open he saw man with a face devoid of flesh, and eyes with blood dripping from it. His father looked at him with contempt, and then turned his back on him as he walked away. The man with blood falling from the sockets in his skull, neared towards him.

Rafil squealed in terror as he backed away. The man bend towards him, extending a hand with insects crawling on it. "You still run in terror from me? Looks like you need to be taught about the laws of the world once again. Come Rafil. Let's go." The man grabbed Rafil's hands and pulled him by force.

Rafil just shook his head trying to bite back his sobs. The man's teeth rattled and he smiled, like a skull could smile "Rafil...."

"Rafil! Get up child! Get up!"

Rafil jerked up in terror, his eyes darting blindly around him, trying to find the man. His breath was coming in gasps, his heart racing frantically. He was lying on a cot in a small room with no windows, dimly lit by a candle burning in a corner. An old man with wispy hairs was standing beside him, frowning at him. "Where am I? Where is my Pa?" said Rafil looking for answers in the man's dark brown eyes.

"You don't have a Pa. You don't exist any more. From now on you are nobody, a shadow, vestige of the living world. Keep that in your mind, it will help you stay alive" said the man in a heavy coarse voice, tossing a pile of clothes to him. "Put them on. From now on they are your skin. Don't take them off."

Rafil looked at the heap of clothes in his hands. They were a pair of dark grey breeches and a shirt, all tailored for him. The shirt had an insignia of a three headed snake imprinted on it. With a start Rafil realised that he was sitting naked in front of the old man. His cheeks flushed and he quickly got dressed.

The old man clicked his tongue in annoyance, waiting for Rafil to finish. After Rafil was done, wearing the clothes, his heart calming down but his mind racing, looking for answers, the old man said "Call me Master from now on. Hear what I say carefully. Commit it to your memory. Repeat it in your mind after I am gone till you can hear me in your mind, saying it all over again. You are not to question me. You are not to speak to me, or to anyone else unless I say so. You are dead to the world now. The world will ignore you, look past you without sparing you a glance. But you are not to do the same. You will see everything, notice everything, glean every detail from your surroundings and retain it to your memory.

"Now follow me. No, stop don't question me. You are not to ask questions from me. If you want answers, discern it from what you observe from your surroundings. Yes, good now follow me. The room we just left behind is the room that you will live in. Yours is but one of the hundreds of room in the estate. The estate is very large and there is a lot of space for you to find for your solitude if wish to find it. You may leave the building in which you are housed, but you are to neither leave the eastate, nor enter any of the other buildings until I say so. There are guards posted everywhere so try to follow my instructions. Your food will be delivered to your room at the seventh bell in the morrow and at the fourth bell in the noon. You will be with me from half a bell past the seventh bell in the morrow to the first bell in the noon. What you will do in that time will be up to me to decide. From the first bell to the fourth bell in the noon you are to clean my room, the place we are headed, and the corridor we have just left behind. You are to do this without getting caught by the red robed people who walk these corridors the. At the seventh bell at dusk, you will come find me. We will discuss ... particular subjects that we need to" the man said monotonically, looking straight ahead as walked. Rafil was forced to follow him and listen to him. He hoped that the man would reveal some things to him.

The things that the old man was saying were numerous, and it was hard for Rafil to keep up and retain all of it in his memory. He felt baffled by the place he was suddenly thrust in, without his father. But just as the old man had started speaking, Rafil had thought of his father and the last thing that he had said to him. I will be waiting for you. Rafil felt helpless and defeated. His father had left him. Yet at the same time he also felt hope. His father would be waiting for him. Calming his heart and mind, Rafil tried to ignore everything around him and went through the runes in his mind, trying to focus his attention.

Rafil didn't see the slap coming and fell to the ground under the blow. "Listen to me when i am talking you" said the old man scorning at Rafil. Rafil felt anger bubble up in him and as he lifted up his eyes meeting with the dark brown eyes of the old man, trying to defy him. Seeing this the old man grinned at Rafil. Rafil felt a dread pass through him like he had never felt before. For him, it was as if someone was pressing him to the ground trying to squish him. Sweat sizzled on his skin, instantly vaporising as it was formed. For a moment, Rafil saw an image of a laughing half rotted skeleton behind the old man's head. As soon as he felt the pressure, it was gone.

Even though the pressure was there for only a second, Rafil could still feel its effects. His chest hurt badly but he did not cry. He had promised his father he won't cry. He gulped as he tried to push himself up by his hands, only to feel a terrible agony jolt up his right hand. He fell again holding his right hand where it hurt. He held his cries by biting his lips. His eyes were moist and almost welled up, but he did not cry.

Seeing this the old man said "That was your first time. Three broken ribs and two broken bones in the arm. You are considered punished. Next time you try to defy me, you won't be let off so easily. Now come follow me. We may not have a sister of Freya with us, but we still have got quite a few tricks up our sleeves."

"Yes Master" Rafil managed to say in a shaking voice. He then got up and trailed after his Master, trying his best to pay heed to his Master's words.

Rafil could feel himself changing. He paid more attention at what others were, what they were wearing, how they walked, how they skirted around him. He barely spoke any more, and it helped him calm and focus his mind. Though his master made him do menial tasks; washing clothes, cleaning the floor, carrying messages and other odd errands, he also taught Rafil many things.

He taught him how to discern what people were trying to hide. He used to order Rafil to lurk in the shadows of his room while he entertained guests. after the guests were gone, Rafil would be entitled to reveal to his Master what he had gleaned of the guest from hearing his words and tone. If Rafil cold not get some worthwhile information, or wrong information, he would be striked with the flat of the blade of a wooden sword ten times.

He taught him how to focus more clearly. Rafil would have listen a to particular voice in a chorus of voices and repeat to his master what the voice had said. The punishment for failure was the same.

Rafil was also taught to read and write different languages of the Trale continent. Since none of them were as complicated as the runes his father had taught him, it was quite easy for Rafil to do so. In a span of three months, Rafil had mastered three languages to a proficient degree.

Yet the thing that Rafil longed for the most had yet to be taught to him. He was still not being taught the way of the sword. Once when his Master was in a jovial mood, he had asked Rafil to speak his mind. Rafil had then asked that when will he be taught the way of the sword. His Master stared at him for a few moments, then laughed for a while. He had then ordered ten flats of the wooden blade for him for his 'curiosity'. Even then, Rafil did not let up the idea for the way of the sword. After spending months with his Master, he had learned a very important thing.

His Master was terrifyingly strong. People, all the 'guests', cowered and grovelled before his Master. If he had to get strong, then his Master was the only way available to him right now. He had to grab every chance that he could at becoming stronger. After all, his father was waiting for him.

On another point, after 26th I will be posting from my phone. I would probably need a proofreader. If there is anyone in the readers who is confident about his grammar and vocab, and is willing to volunteer to proofread for me the please pm me. Thanks in advance :)