The sun rose gently over the horizon, casting a golden hue across the training center. The morning air was crisp, brushing softly against Keith's face as he stood by the window in his small room. He hadn't slept well. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of the demon—and the lifeless bodies of his parents—haunted him.
But something was different today. The dull ache in his chest was still there, but beneath it was something else. A strange weight in his gut. A flicker of something he couldn't quite name.
Resolve, maybe.
A soft knock echoed on his door. "Keith, you awake?" came a familiar voice.
It was Ethan.
Keith opened the door to find the blonde-haired boy grinning at him. "Come on, let's get breakfast. We've got orientation today."
Keith blinked. "Orientation?"
"Yep. Mistress Graves—sorry, Eleanor—announced it last night. For all the new recruits," Ethan said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Today, we get a tour of the center, hear the rules, and get our temporary schedule."
Keith nodded slowly and followed Ethan down the hallway.
As they descended the stairs, Keith noticed more of the boys he had seen the day before. Some of them glanced his way, others ignored him completely. There were all kinds—tall, short, confident, nervous. Everyone had their own baggage, Keith figured. He wasn't the only one here with a painful past.
The cafeteria was filled with chatter and clinking dishes. Keith took his food quietly, following Ethan to a small table in the corner.
"You should eat up," Ethan said between bites. "They say once training starts, you'll miss these calm mornings."
Keith wasn't sure what to say. He poked at his food for a while, then slowly began to eat. The taste wasn't great, but it filled him.
After breakfast, a loud bell rang across the building.
"That's our cue," Ethan said, standing up.
The new recruits were all gathered in the courtyard outside the hostel. A mix of boys and girls stood in lines, separated but equally curious. The girls, Keith noticed, were being led from a different building nearby—a second hostel that mirrored the one he stayed in. Everyone looked around, some chatting nervously, others sizing each other up.
Then, Mistress Eleanor appeared.
Dressed in a simple black uniform with the silver insignia of the Demon Hunter Association—a wolf's head marked by a vertical blade through the center—she stood before them with her hands behind her back. The moment she arrived, the murmurs died down.
"Welcome," she began, her voice calm but commanding. "You are all here because fate has taken something from you. Your homes. Your families. Your safety. And now, you stand at the edge of a new path."
Her eyes scanned the crowd, briefly locking onto Keith's.
"This is the Dawnfire Training Center—one of many across the world. We train warriors. Hunters. Survivors. Those who have no noble lineage, no bloodlines filled with ancient power—but who still possess the courage to stand."
A quiet energy pulsed through the recruits.
"Over the next few months, you will be tested. You will learn about demons. About the power system. About how to fight and how to survive. Some of you will awaken. Some of you will not."
She stepped closer.
"If you awaken, your training truly begins. If you don't, you will be given the choice: return to civilian life in a controlled sector—or stay as support staff within the association."
Keith's fingers curled slightly. He didn't want to be support. He didn't want to sit behind the walls while the demons roamed free. Not after what he'd seen. Not after what they'd taken from him.
"You will be paired with a mentor, and every week you will undergo trials designed to bring out your potential. In time, if you prove yourselves, you may be selected for a field team… like the group that rescued Keith."
Whispers rose. Some of the recruits turned toward him. He looked down, wishing for a moment he could disappear.
But Eleanor silenced them with a glance.
"Your first lesson begins tomorrow morning. For today, you'll be assigned your schedules, uniforms, and a tour of the facilities. Dismissed."
As the crowd began to disperse, Keith stood still for a moment.
Ethan nudged him. "Hey, you okay?"
Keith nodded, his expression unreadable.
"Good," Ethan said. "Because I have a feeling this place is going to be way tougher than we thought."
As they walked back toward the hostel, Keith looked over his shoulder toward the training fields in the distance—rows of dummies, obstacle courses, sparring rings. A place meant to forge warriors.
A place that would either break him… or make him strong enough to get revenge.
He didn't know which yet.
But for the first time since that terrible night, Keith had something to hold onto.
A purpose.