Kale blinked his eyes, unsure if he had heard correctly.
"What?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion as he stared at the two figures before him.
Sitting across from him was Jaren, the disciple who had summoned him—twenty years old, clearly unimpressed by Kale's presence. Beside Jaren sat Elder Sylra, her wrinkled face creased further by an amused grin that made Kale feel even more out of place.
"Look, kid, don't get any ideas," Jaren said, exhaling sharply. "You were recommended by Elder Myrra."
"Oh, come on, Jaren," Elder Sylra interjected with a chuckle. "Wouldn't having a kid like him along be fun?"
Jaren groaned, pressing his palm to his forehead. "Elder, this is an investigation," he emphasized, raising his voice slightly. "TO THE LAKE OF MIST!"
Sylra waved him off dismissively, her tone light and nonchalant. "Oh, relax. Those beasts will just be meat by the end of the day anyway. What's the harm in making it interesting?" She leaned back casually, as though the entire world were her personal playground.
Then, without warning, she turned her piercing gaze toward Kale. "By the way, Kale, why not switch to swords? You'd fare better than clutching that spear like a walking stick."
Kale froze, caught off guard by the sudden question—and the underlying suggestion. With everything else swirling in his mind, switching weapons felt like the last thing he needed to think about.
"Elder…" Kale began hesitantly, trying to process the weight of what she'd said. "Are you serious right now? We're heading into a deadly mission, and you're asking me to change my weapon?"
Sylra shrugged carelessly. "It's only the basics. Swordsmanship has its advantages over spears when dealing with certain threats."
Kale frowned, shaking his head firmly. "A direct teaching is reserved for your direct disciples, Elder. Not someone like me."
But Sylra wasn't listening anymore. She had already shifted her attention back to Jaren, who looked equally exasperated but seemed accustomed to her antics. They exchanged words, completely ignoring Kale as though he were invisible.
Kale sighed deeply, rubbing his temples as a dull headache began creeping up on him.
With a dismissive wave, Elder Sylra finally addressed him again. "Go pack up your things. We'll set out tomorrow." Her tone carried no room for argument, and just like that, Kale was dismissed.
•---•
Back in his quarters, Kale slumped onto the edge of his cot, gripping his head as another sharp pang of pain shot through his skull.
"Why me?" he muttered under his breath, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Augh… these damned old women don't even care about the lives of their disciples. The first dojo got nearly wiped out because of that incident, and now they're sending us to investigate the Lake of Mist, for shits and giggles?"
The Lake of Mist wasn't just any ordinary location, it was labeled a danger zone for good reason. Tales of strange creatures, unpredictable weather, and eerie phenomena surrounded it. Even seasoned seekers avoided venturing too close. Yet here he was, being sent there with little explanation or preparation.
Kale let out a long sigh, trying to steady his thoughts. There was no point dwelling on it now. Whether he liked it or not, he was going.