The sun shimmered on the surface of the river, casting glints of light across the crystal-clear water. Valka walked carefully through the underbrush, gathering medicinal herbs in a small wicker basket. Her sharp eyes scanned the landscape, trained to spot useful plants hidden in the forest's depths.
Suddenly, an unfamiliar sound broke the calm.
"Is that… crying?" she murmured, frowning.
She pushed aside a few branches and stumbled upon an unexpected sight—a baby, wrapped in rags, crying on the riverbank. His skin was cold, and his damp brown hair clung to his forehead. But what struck her most were his mismatched eyes—one gold, the other red.
"How is that even possible…?" she whispered, feeling a pang in her chest.
Without hesitation, she scooped the baby into her arms and wrapped him in her cloak. Despite the cold and the fear, the child stopped crying and clung to her, as if sensing safety in her warmth.
That night, in their home deep within the forest, Valka showed the child to her husband, Valarr.
"You're not actually thinking of keeping him... are you?" Valarr asked, concern written all over his face.
"Someone's probably looking for him. Besides, we don't know the first thing about raising a child," he said firmly.
But Valka, cradling the boy in her arms with eyes full of tenderness, replied without hesitation:
"We're keeping him."
Valarr sighed, staring at the boy now sleeping peacefully in a blanket. He wasn't a man of many words, but in his eyes, it was clear he had already accepted him.
"Alright… we'll try. Gael. That'll be his name," he murmured.
Eight years passed since that night.
Gael had grown up living a simple life in the forest, helping Valarr chop wood at the sawmill and exploring the surrounding woods with his dog, Fenrir. But one day, while carrying logs, Fenrir began barking furiously at the treeline.
"What is it, buddy?" Gael asked, setting the logs down.
The dog bolted into the woods, and without thinking, Gael followed.
Before he knew it, he was surrounded by dense vegetation. He was lost.
"Damn…" he muttered, sweat trickling down his temple.
Meanwhile, village guards patrolling nearby informed Valarr that a beast had been spotted roaming the forest.
Valarr immediately turned, scanning his surroundings—but Gael was nowhere to be seen.
"Shit… Gael!" he shouted.
Back in the forest.
The air grew tense. Something was watching him.
Two glowing eyes gleamed from the bushes. A massive boar with razor-sharp tusks burst from the undergrowth, breathing heavily and staring Gael down.
The boy was barely bigger than one of its tusks.
Frozen in fear, Gael's body refused to move.
The boar snorted, then charged.
"Gael!" a thunderous voice echoed through the forest.
Just before the tusk reached him, a towering figure emerged from the trees and struck the beast with a crushing blow.
It was Valarr.
"Back off!" he roared, his fist still raised.
Gael fell backward and watched in awe as his adoptive father fought the monster with bare hands. Valarr's punches were brutal, echoing in the air—but the beast was incredibly resilient.
"Tsk… This could take hours," Valarr growled, cracking his knuckles.
"What's an old boar doing in these woods?" he wondered aloud.
"Guess I'll need a new strategy."
Gael watched as Valarr repeatedly struck the boar's tusk until it finally snapped. With a swift motion, he used the broken tusk as a weapon and drove it deep into the creature's skull.
The boar let out a final cry and collapsed.
Gael's heart pounded in his chest. He had never seen anything like it.
"How... how do you know how to fight like that?" he asked, eyes wide.
Valarr remained silent for a moment. Then, with a heavy sigh, he said:
"The truth is... your father used to be a hunter for the Inquisition."