Lyriq Raveline-The Time Swordsman

"Who are you?" Lyriq asked again, his voice sharper this time, curious yet cautious.

The man didn't answer.

Instead, he lowered himself to Lyriq's eye level, his gaze piercing yet unreadable. "Do you want to learn swordsmanship?"

Lyriq blinked, confused. Swordsmanship? He already knew it—or at least, he remembered it. The muscle memory wasn't there yet, but the instincts, the strategies, and the killing intent... those were ingrained in him from his previous life.

Why me? he wondered. Surely my older siblings Cedric, Kain, even the cousins must have trained with him before. Or is this different? Is this offer just for me?

His grip on the splintered wooden sword tightened. "Why should I learn swordsmanship from you? Are you my father's knight? A royal aide?"

The man smirked slightly. "No. I am a wandering traveler. I happened to stop by your estate on my way to the western front. I have trained many swordsmen over the years. Some have become legends. Others… forgotten, Like you, they were offered a choice. Think of this moment not as fate, but as fortune. You're getting an opportunity. Whether you take it or not is yours to decide."

"But… why me?"

The man straightened and looked at the sky. "Because you're thinking. Most people wait for instructions. You observe, deduce, react. A swordsman must not only train his body but sharpen his mind. I can't promise to teach you flashy tricks or glowing blades. But I will show you how to fight, how to think, and how to survive in a world where talent alone means nothing if you aren't willing to bleed for it."

Lyriq was silent.

The wind whispered across the courtyard. His young face was unreadable, but inside, he was conflicted. This man, whoever he was, had noticed something no one else had. Not his siblings, not his parents. Not even the guards who bowed to him daily.

Then the man asked, "Have you ever thought about your future?"

Lyriq raised an eyebrow. This man's insane. I'm only Seven.

But the question dug into him.

"Children should have dreams," the man continued. "Dreams that keep them moving forward when everything else is against them. You are a noble. Most dream of becoming king, or a peaceful life in luxury. What is your dream?"

Lyriq thought long and hard. He remembered the battlefield, the scars on his old body, the betrayal, the loneliness. All of that had led him here—to a new life where he was just another child among ten others. Forgotten. Fed. Ignored.

He looked up and said, "I don't have a dream yet. But… I want to be recognized."

The man's eyes flickered with interest. "Then you must become someone worth recognizing. That means talent. Discipline. Sacrifice. Can you give those things?"

"I'll do whatever it takes," Lyriq replied.

The man's tone changed. "Then understand this: to reach that path, you must be willing to give up everything that distracts you—comfort, safety, even family. Nothing worth having comes without sacrifice."

Lyriq's expression shifted. He hadn't spent much time with his family anyway. His father and uncle were kings, occupied with affairs of state. His brothers and cousins trained and played. Only his mother, Veronica, truly looked at him like he mattered. Could he give even that up?

The man stood. "Think carefully. I'm leaving in two days. You'll find me in the borderhouse of your kingdom."

"Your name…" Lyriq called out. "You never told me your name."

But the man didn't answer.

He turned and walked away, his dark cloak fluttering like a shadow in the wind.

****

Later that day, Lyriq asked the guards. "Who was that man?"

None knew.

"He carries a royal badge," one replied. "A mark from the core kingdom of Meredica. No one has the authority to question him. Not even our king."

"How is that allowed?" Lyriq asked, bewildered. "What if he's a fraud?"

"The badge is a royal badge and the person who posses that badge are certainly strong"

Lyriq frowned. The logic seemed flawed. Just because the badge was real, didn't mean the man was trustworthy. But still… that strength. That awareness. That surgical skill in combat. That was real.

The mystery grew deeper.

And what about time? Lyriq thought.

He had felt it slow down. Almost stop. The world paused while he moved. That couldn't have been normal. Was it his ability? Or something the man did?

He had no answers yet. Just more questions.

But one thing was certain,he needed permission.