The advanced training Marcus promised began the very next morning, despite the continuing storm that had transformed Silverfang's usually cheerful streets into rivers of mud and debris. Bete arrived at the guard facility to find the space completely rearranged—practice dummies had been moved to create an open circle in the center of the room, and strange symbols had been chalked on the floor in patterns that seemed to shift and move when he wasn't looking directly at them.
"You're certain about this?" Marcus asked without preamble as Bete entered. "Once we begin, there's no returning to the simple sword lessons we've been doing. What I'm about to teach you will change you permanently, and not all of those changes will be pleasant."
Bete nodded, trying to project more confidence than he felt. "I'm ready."
"No, you're not," Marcus replied bluntly. "No one is ever ready for what this process entails. But you're determined, and sometimes that's enough."
Marcus gestured for Bete to sit in the center of the chalked circle. As he settled into position, Bete noticed that the symbols around him seemed to pulse with faint energy, creating a sense of being surrounded by something both protective and dangerous.
"The first thing you need to understand," Marcus began, "is that strength always demands payment. Every power you gain, every ability you develop, every advantage you acquire—all of it comes at a cost. Sometimes that cost is obvious, like the time and effort required for training. Sometimes it's more subtle, like the way combat skills change how you see the world around you."
"What's the cost of what you're teaching me?"
Marcus was quiet for a moment, considering how to explain concepts that most people spent years learning to understand.
"The techniques I'm about to show you draw on your werewolf heritage in ways that will accelerate your physical and mental development. You'll become stronger, faster, and more capable than you could through normal training. But you'll also become more aware of danger, more suspicious of potential threats, and more willing to use violence to solve problems."
"That doesn't sound so bad."
"Doesn't it?" Marcus asked with a sad smile. "Let me tell you about my party leader, a woman named Aria who was one of the most gifted warriors I've ever known. She could fight a dozen enemies simultaneously and emerge without a scratch. She could read combat situations like a scholar reads books, seeing patterns and opportunities that were invisible to the rest of us."
Marcus began moving around the circle, his steps tracing patterns that seemed to match the chalk symbols on the floor.
"Aria was also incapable of trusting anyone completely, even her closest friends. She saw potential betrayal in every conversation, tactical disadvantages in every relationship. The same abilities that made her nearly invincible in combat made her nearly incapable of experiencing simple human connection."
Bete felt a chill as he began to understand what Marcus was implying. "You're saying that getting stronger will make me more like her?"
"I'm saying that power changes you, often in ways you don't anticipate or desire. The question you need to ask yourself is whether you're willing to accept those changes in exchange for the ability to protect what you care about."
Before Bete could respond, Marcus retrieved one of the glowing crystals from the table and held it up so that its light played across both their faces.
"This is a focus stone, created by combining natural crystal with concentrated magical energy. When properly used, it can help awaken dormant abilities in those who possess supernatural heritage."
"What kind of abilities?"
"Enhanced physical capabilities beyond what normal werewolf transformation provides. Improved magical sensitivity that will allow you to sense supernatural threats. And most importantly, access to what we call 'battle instinct'—the ability to read combat situations and respond appropriately without conscious thought."
Marcus knelt beside the circle, placing the crystal on the floor within Bete's reach. "But there's something you need to see before we proceed. Something that will help you understand exactly what you're choosing."
From his pocket, Marcus withdrew a small mirror—not the silver glass that most people used, but something that seemed to be made of polished black stone.
"This is a truth mirror," he explained. "It shows not just your physical appearance, but the essence of who you are at the deepest level. Before you commit to this path, you should see yourself as you truly are now, so you can understand what you might be giving up."
Bete took the mirror hesitantly and looked into its dark surface. Instead of his normal reflection, he saw something that took his breath away—himself, but somehow more vivid and alive than any normal mirror could show. His eyes held warmth and curiosity, his smile carried genuine joy, and there was something about his overall expression that spoke of innocence and trust in the fundamental goodness of the world.
"That's who you are right now," Marcus said gently. "A boy who believes that problems can be solved through effort and good intentions, who trusts that the adults around him will keep him safe, who sees danger as an adventure rather than a threat to everything he loves."
Marcus took back the mirror and stored it carefully. "After we complete your training, that boy will be gone forever. You'll still be you, but you'll be a version of yourself that has been shaped by the knowledge of how easily everything precious can be destroyed."
"Is that what happened to you?"
Marcus nodded slowly. "I was once someone who believed that courage and determination could overcome any obstacle. I thought that heroes always triumphed and that good would always find a way to defeat evil. Then I watched my friends die because I wasn't strong enough to protect them, and I learned that sometimes being good isn't enough."
"Do you regret becoming stronger?"
"I regret the necessity that made strength required," Marcus replied. "I regret living in a world where eight-year-old children have to choose between innocence and the ability to protect their families. But I don't regret the choices I made or the power I gained, because without them, even more people would have died."
Marcus stood and moved to the edge of the circle, his expression becoming formal and ritualistic.
"This is your last chance to choose a different path, Bete. You could still be evacuated with the other children. You could still have a chance to grow up slowly and naturally, without the burden of premature responsibility. Are you certain this is what you want?"
Bete thought about Mira's trusting smile, about Grandmother Elsa's gentle wisdom, about his parents' love and protection. He thought about the creatures that were even now stalking through the storm outside, planning the destruction of everything that gave his life meaning.
"I'm certain," he said firmly. "Whatever it costs, whatever I have to give up—I can't live with the possibility that my family might die because I chose safety over strength."
Marcus nodded, though his expression remained grave. "Then we begin. But remember this moment, Bete. Remember who you were before we started, so that you don't lose yourself completely in who you're about to become."
As Marcus began the complex process that would awaken Bete's dormant abilities, the young boy felt as if he was standing at the edge of a cliff, about to jump into an abyss from which there would be no return. But even as fear gripped his heart, determination burned brighter.
He would pay whatever price was demanded. He would become whatever he needed to become. He would sacrifice his innocence, his childhood, and his simple faith in the goodness of the world if that's what it took to keep his family safe.
The lesson in loss had begun, and by the time it was finished, eight-year-old Bete Loga would understand that sometimes the greatest sacrifice a protector could make was not their life, but their ability to see the world as a place where protection was unnecessary.
The storm continued to rage outside, but inside the training facility, a different kind of storm was beginning—one that would transform a determined boy into something far more powerful and far more dangerous than anyone could have imagined.