Night was yielding its reign, while dawn announced itself majestically on the horizon. The sun emerged with an intense crimson that, in a magical instant, transformed into a deep blue. However, shadows stubbornly persisted in the city, as if the moon refused to abandon its nocturnal domain.

  Vixkard remained seated before the great bonfire, meticulously feeding the flames with pieces of dry firewood he had arranged beside him. He felt the heat penetrate his pores while precisely dosing the exact amount of fuel necessary to keep that dancing fire alive.

  Suddenly, the silence was broken by heavy footsteps coming from the house. They stopped beside him, accompanied by such a resounding crash that it seemed as if a boulder had fallen in that very place.

  "I only heard your footsteps; did your father not come?" asked Vixkard without turning.

  "No, he collapsed exhausted on the bed, and I didn't have the heart to wake him. Our battle was extremely grueling," responded Thamuz, observing the serene profile of the old man.

  "It doesn't matter. I already performed this conversation once with him when he was barely a novice in the shamonak. What's truly significant is that you are here," affirmed Vixkard, throwing another fragment of dry wood into the fire, which crackled intensely.

  "What exactly are we going to do?" inquired Thamuz, with respect and curiosity in his voice.

  Vixkard slowly stood up, shaking the dust that had adhered to his clothing. With a measured gesture, he indicated to Thamuz that he should also rise.

  "Tell me, young Thamuz, what have you thought of my training methods?" asked Vixkard.

  Thamuz noticed that Vixkard was directing his words toward the left side, when in reality he was to the right of the old man. With gentleness, Thamuz approached and softly placed his hand on Vixkard's shoulder, respectfully turning him so that the blind old master could orient himself correctly toward him.

  "I have found them extremely demanding, but at the same time they have helped me to clearly identify what my deficiencies were," confessed Thamuz, turning his body to face the heat of the bonfire again. "Thanks to that, I am learning to gradually eliminate those shortcomings."

  "Yes, like that time when you almost threw a tantrum because you couldn't break the bonkam," recalled Vixkard, bringing a hand to his chin with a thoughtful gesture. "I may be blind, but I am able to perceive people's emotions with remarkable precision."

  "I see," murmured Thamuz, observing the weathered features of his master from the corner of his eye. "How did you lose your sight?"

  Vixkard turned his head slightly, as if the prominent scar that crossed his eyes were a window through which he could contemplate his disciple.

  "It's a long story," said Vixkard, putting his hands in his pockets. "Have I ever told you about my wife?"

  Thamuz was startled to hear Vixkard mention his spouse. Although he already knew the story from his father, he yearned to hear it directly from the one who had lived it firsthand.

  "No, I've never heard or been told about your wife," he lied, with a tinge of shame that filtered through his voice.

  Vixkard sat down slowly on the ground, his forehead beaded with sweat due to the heat of the bonfire. Thamuz imitated his gesture, drawing up his legs to shield himself from the night cold that contrasted with the heat of the fire.

  "Before time ravaged my body, I was the most powerful shamonak fighter on this planet," began Vixkard. "I made mountains tremble with my blows and my muscles constituted an impenetrable fortress, but..." —he made a significant pause— "my iron character was pierced by something as simple yet powerful as love."

  "I suppose that love was your wife, wasn't it?" inquired Thamuz, leaning slightly toward the old man.

  "Yes, completely. Our gazes crossed during an exceptional combat," confirmed Vixkard, supporting his arms behind him to touch the ground and inclining his head toward the starry firmament. "It was the second most challenging confrontation of my entire life. It involved fighting against a subordinate of a world conqueror, Atlas was the conqueror's name, as I recall. That adversary used an extraordinarily singular combat technique; he moved his hands as if they were waves and remained motionless in his position. I would approach to hit him, but invariably he would throw me to one side or knock me down, as if he possessed supernatural powers."

  "My father told me about that confrontation," commented Thamuz. "But if you say that was your second most difficult combat... what was the first?"

  Vixkard listened attentively to his words and threw more wood onto the fire, fanning the flame until it grew imposing before them.

  "The greatest combat of my existence has been fighting against the loss of my wife, my beloved Ellie Benavides," confessed Vixkard with a tone imbued with melancholy. "She was as beautiful as the resplendent flowers of the twin mountains. Her character was as sweet as wedding celebration cake, but above all, her love for me represented the most valuable thing I had known in this world."

  There was an eloquent pause after Vixkard's last words. Silence enveloped the atmosphere until the old man decided to resume his tale:

  "Sometimes I believed I had died to awaken in the afterlife, with a woman like her being the reward after a life devoted to fighting and violence. But it rejoices me to know that all those experiences were authentic," he made another prolonged pause. "Until a mysterious illness took her from my side. Each day she grew worse; she weakened and strength gradually abandoned her, but the smile never disappeared from her face. Even after her departure, she died in her bed, holding a photograph where we appeared together, in the place where we met for the first time."

  Thamuz opened his eyes immensely upon hearing the mention of the photograph, recognizing that it was probably the same one he had glimpsed in Vixkard's room days before.

  "I think I've seen that photograph," he commented cautiously. "Just when I was walking through the corridors on my way to the training yard."

  With the mere mention of the image by Thamuz, a faint smile appeared on Vixkard's face, who turned his head to face his disciple.

  "She was an extraordinarily beautiful woman, don't you think?" he asked with nostalgia.

  "Yes, I have seen few women in my life, but she appeared to be the most beautiful I have ever seen, without detracting from my mother, of course," Thamuz pointed out, with a hint of irony when referring to his mother.

  Vixkard laughed softly at that comment, lightening the mood. The weight of the story seemed to gradually vanish from Thamuz's mind.

  "Tawnylon inherited from me that predilection for that type of women: petite and with an aura of innocence around them, but who would not hesitate for an instant to protect what they treasure most," explained Vixkard, contemplating how the fire slowly consumed itself. "Because the most precious thing for her, besides me, was our daughter, who had been born just a few months before the illness took her mother."

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  "What is she like?" asked Thamuz with genuine innocence.

  "Why do you ask? Are you interested?" responded Vixkard with a mocking tone.

  Thamuz blushed slightly, letting out a nervous laugh while crossing his arms defensively.

  "It's simple curiosity, old man. I don't think I'm ready for a relationship yet," he responded, looking sideways at his mentor.

  "You're right. Besides, she is too old for you, she's approximately one hundred and fifty years old," explained Vixkard, raising one finger on his left hand and five on his right to gesturally represent the number.

  "Definitely too old for me," commented Thamuz with a resigned sigh. "By the way, where is she now?"

  "She is outside the cities, very far away, to be exact, she is in another city, the city of Yumekan. When my wife died, I retired from combat and all the metropolis's problems to dedicate myself exclusively to caring for her, away from malevolent people who intended to harm me," explained Vixkard, running a hand through his gray hair. "It was the best decision I could have made. Now she is happy; she married a shamonak fighter with a noble heart, loving. They have given me several grandchildren whom I have instructed, not in such a rigorous way as I do with you, but rather to introduce them to the world of this extraordinary form of combat."

  "Then, it must have been an extraordinary experience to be able to care for your daughter, something so small and vulnerable that required all your attention," commented Thamuz, with genuine interest.

  "Yes, but don't think everything was simple for me," confessed Vixkard, drawing his legs toward his chest. "I still harbored a growing anger inside me. I struck with all my strength Bonkam pillars much more imposing than those you have contemplated in your life. I had faced ferocious beasts, I had even participated indirectly in various wars waged between kingdoms. I didn't align myself with any side, I simply charged against any obstacle that stood in my way, until one day, something took away my gift of sight."

  "What happened?" asked Thamuz, with intensified curiosity.

  "Two hundred years ago, when King Khumulak and the sovereign of Yumekan, whose name was Domerin Adaptus, unleashed a bloody battle between their domains, they employed shamonak fighters everywhere, of great caliber and power. Even the most outstanding soldiers of both kingdoms, with their swords and sharp weapons, could not rival them. It was a balanced confrontation, but King Domerin was gradually losing ground. Your father was a fundamental pillar in that conflict, but, in a desperate act, Domerin resorted to using wild beasts," Vixkard threw a fragment of dry wood into the fire, watching how the flames devoured it voraciously. "Just as you see the wood succumb to the fire, so were the hosts of King Khumulak gradually subdued. The wild creatures that Domerin had summoned were beings that could hardly be considered native to this planet. They were called Krugerons, beasts that reached ten meters in height and five in width. They stood on two extremities and their claws... by Azhamat, their claws were like perfect blade lances. They could discharge a swipe and send twenty soldiers flying with them. Not even the shamonak fighters could inflict damage on them, as their skin was protected by practically impenetrable scales."

  "They seemed invincible adversaries," reflected Thamuz, thoughtfully resting a hand on his chin. "But if the city still stands, then it means they managed to devise some strategy to contain them."

  "Indeed. It cost the lives of numerous soldiers and shamonak fighters, but we discovered that high temperatures could weaken the scales of these creatures, making them so malleable that they could be pierced by swords and the impacts of fighters. However, King Khumulak's troops were severely depleted; the numbers had considerably decreased and barely a couple of thousand remained. So your father decided to approach me to request my aid. They were completely desperate," continued Vixkard. "Initially I refused for various reasons, perhaps because I refused to directly involve myself in such conflicts or simply out of obstinacy. But your father helped me understand that it could constitute a magnificent opportunity to channel all that anger that nested inside me, to finally free myself from it."

  "What strategy did they conceive with you integrated into their ranks?" inquired Thamuz, leaning forward with expectation.

  Vixkard slowly raised his arm and pointed toward the other side of a mountain, where a colossal rock formation with a cavity in its interior could be glimpsed.

  "Do you see that giant mountain with a hole inside it? That's called a volcano. Inside it harbors various rock formations and a lethal substance known as magma, similar to water, but with the capacity to incinerate everything," explained Vixkard as he lowered his arm and clenched his fist tightly. "The plan consisted of me remaining inside the volcano, thanks to my body being able to resist those extreme temperatures, while the soldiers and shamonak fighters of King Khumulak lured the krugerons inside. The screams and the sound of flesh being torn that I heard were indescribable. I even wanted to abandon everything and leave, but I had made a promise to your father and was determined to fulfill it. So I stood firm and watched them descending from the top of the volcano's mouth. They came one after another, those krugerons, authentic nightmares incarnate that pounced on me as soon as they spotted me. In the first encounter, I limited myself to dodging their attacks; I was unaware if the volcanic heat affected them, until several minutes passed and I decided to test our theory."

  "Did it work?" interrupted Thamuz, unable to contain his impatience.

  "Of course it did. It worked extraordinarily well. I delivered the first blow and the scales detached like water from one of them. I immediately understood that they were already weakened, so I unleashed all my fury against them. At first they came one by one, then two by two, later three by three, up to groups of five, but invariably they succumbed to my onslaughts, carbonizing from the heat and vanishing into the air. Until I heard a thunderous roar. From the summit emerged the most enormous krugeron I had ever contemplated. It tripled the size of average specimens; its skin exhibited a crimson reddish hue and its scales possessed a distinctive color: immaculate white. It charged against me and we fought with unusual ferocity. I felt as if my soul was detaching from my body, convinced that each instant could be the last. Finally, I managed to perforate its chest with the most devastating palm strike I have executed in my entire existence. However, the krugeron managed to deliver a final blow, directly to my eyes. But before sinking into total blindness, I was able to observe how its body disintegrated due to the heat, leaving me plunged into eternal darkness."

  "What happened afterward? If you're still alive, they obviously rescued you," inquired Thamuz, absorbed in the story.

  "Indeed. I only remember that multiple hands transported me and later I woke up in what I perceived to be a bed. I couldn't visualize anything, only absolute blackness. I startled instantly, but fatigue and injuries inflicted by those creatures prevented me from moving. I heard your father's voice informing me that King Domerin's hosts had been completely annihilated, offering their capitulation in exchange for ceasing hostilities. Your father left after verifying my stability, but when I was about to succumb to sleep, I perceived a voice," Vixkard adjusted his garments and extended his hands toward the dying fire. "It was a melodious voice, so sweet that it could cause me cardiac shock. The voice of a woman whose identity I never knew. Every time I addressed her, she responded naturally. I longed for our conversation to be prolonged eternally, but exhaustion overcame me and my eyelids closed inexorably, while I felt how my body began to surrender. The person behind that angelic voice seemed to also abandon the room, but not before pronouncing words that radically transformed my perspective."

  "What were those words, if it doesn't bother you to share them?" asked Thamuz, with curiosity and caution, fearful of disturbing his mentor.

  "Learn everything, live everything, and enjoy everything. Don't be an ignorant who believes his world revolves exclusively around a single thing," recited Vixkard, each word impregnated with profound nostalgia. "I trust that these teachings may also prove valuable to you, young Thamuz."

  They were seemingly simple phrases that perhaps couldn't be immediately understood by Thamuz, but he treasured them in his memory for constituting an invaluable advice from his master, which had served him at a crucial moment of his existence. The young man sketched a smile and exhaled slightly.

  "I greatly value those words, master. However, I have a doubt," manifested Thamuz. "Why did you return to the city if you enjoyed a full life alongside your daughter? You could have remained there and delighted in the presence of your grandchildren, instructed them, and contemplated them developing as formidable shamonak fighters. Why move here to train me without major complications? We didn't even have a formal introduction; I burst in destroying your wall and woke up in deplorable conditions. Is it simply a matter of destiny or is there an underlying motivation?"

  Vixkard kept his gaze fixed on the fire until he turned his face toward Thamuz, dedicating a slight smile to him before getting up and heading toward the interior of the dwelling.

  "That obeys a promise I made to myself a long time ago and, although my life has experienced transformations, the commitment remains unalterable. I won't reveal it to you for now, but the moment will come when you will understand the nature of that promise," he pronounced while firmly resting his hand on Thamuz's shoulder, releasing it afterward to ascend the steps toward his abode. "I suggest you rest for today, young Thamuz. Feed yourself adequately and do what you consider opportune. Tomorrow we will resume the exercises I have taught you to exhaustion, until a new challenge arises for you."

  With these last words, the bonfire extinguished completely.