The Forsaken Child

  In a world where only the strong survive, where the sound of swords is the only law, and where power alone determines a man's fate, there is a land ruled by a single truth:

  Those without strength… do not deserve to live.

  This is Wynx, the land of the Children of the Blade—a ruthless people who believe that life is nothing but an endless battlefield, where the weak have no place.

  Every child born here carries a sacred mark on their forehead, a symbol that determines their destiny:

  Crimson Red: The mark of absolute power, the chosen elite.

  Glowing Silver: The warriors of the elite, those with the right to lead.

  Pale Steel: The lowest rank of warriors, the weakest of the tribe.

  And finally… those born without a mark?

  They are seen as nothing but mistakes—a disgrace to existence itself.

  ---

  Chapter One: A Curse Without a Name

  On a bitter winter night, a woman struggled against the pain of childbirth, her cries shaking the walls of the small hut. The darkness swallowed everything, silence suffocated the air—until a soft cry pierced the cold night.

  "It’s a boy!"

  But the midwife's joy quickly turned to shock.

  She froze, staring at the newborn’s forehead…

  Nothing.

  No mark.

  Her hands trembled as she quickly wrapped the infant in cloth, trying to hide the truth. But it was already too late.

  A tall man stood before her, his eyes as sharp as blades, a sword glinting in his grip. He was Ricardo, the tribe’s second-in-command—one of the fiercest men in Wynx.

  He looked at the child and spat on the ground.

  "This is not my son. This is a curse. This… is a mistake."

  The mother’s voice trembled, but she clutched her baby tightly, tears streaming down her face.

  "He is your son! How can you—?!"

  Ricardo raised his sword high, his voice as cold as steel:

  "This child does not deserve to live. I will bury him with my own hands."

  But before he could strike, a deep voice cut through the air:

  "Stop, Ricardo."

  It was the Elder, the tribe’s leader. Though old, his presence was enough to silence everyone.

  His gaze fell upon the infant, unreadable and distant.

  Then, he spoke.

  "You will not kill him. But he will never be one of us. Send him to the Forgotten Quarters. He will live as a servant to the warriors."

  And so… the tale of the boy who belonged nowhere began.

  ---

  Chapter Two: Where Tears Are Not Heard

  Deep within the tribe, beyond the broken walls, there was a place known as the Forgotten Quarters.

  It was a graveyard for the living—a place where unwanted children were discarded, raised as servants, used as training dummies, and rarely… survived.

  Joe grew up in hunger, beatings, and humiliation.

  He learned not to ask.

  He learned not to make mistakes.

  He learned that crying meant nothing.

  One day, as he picked up a stale piece of bread from the dirt, an angry voice rang behind him.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  "How dare you, you filthy rat?!"

  A hard kick sent him crashing to the ground.

  Above him stood a towering boy, his face scarred, his eyes burning with hatred.

  "The forgotten do not eat. The forgotten do not live."

  Then the blows came.

  Joe lay motionless, his body aching. But his eyes remained open, filled with something they had never held before…

  Defiance.

  As he stared at the stars above, he whispered to himself:

  "When I turn ten… I will escape. I will find a world that does not know this cruelty."

  ---

  Chapter Three: The Legend of the Dragon’s Land

  In the shadows of the Forgotten Quarters, among the rotting huts and the discarded souls, there was an old man unlike any other.

  He was no mere servant or cruel overseer—he was a sage, exiled after his kingdom fell into oblivion.

  His name was Volsh, and he looked as if he had crawled out of ancient myths—a long beard, eyes drowning in secrets, and a voice that whispered of lost ages.

  The other children mocked him, calling him the Mad Hermit.

  But Joe did not see a madman.

  He saw a window into another world.

  One night, as the wind howled through the crumbling wood, Joe sat beside Volsh, staring at the fire dancing before them.

  "Volsh, is it true? Is the world beyond these walls only filled with swords and blood?"

  The old man chuckled, his voice rough with age.

  Then, he leaned in and whispered:

  "There is one place… unlike anything you know, boy. A place not ruled by strength, but by fire."

  Joe’s eyes widened.

  "What is it?"

  "The Land of Dragons."

  Joe’s breath caught in his throat.

  "The Land of Dragons?!"

  Volsh nodded slowly and pointed at the sky, where the moon hid behind drifting clouds.

  "Every person in this world is born with a mark that decides their fate. But there are creatures who bear the greatest mark of all… the dragons. Their marks are not mere symbols—they are living flames, burning upon their foreheads, granting them power beyond any sword."

  Joe swallowed hard, his mind painting images of giant creatures soaring through the sky, their foreheads glowing with fire.

  "They say that whoever tames a dragon… becomes stronger than any warrior, even if they were born without a mark."

  For the first time in his life… Joe did not feel weak.

  He felt hope.

  He had found his purpose.

  "How do I get there, Volsh?"

  The old man smiled, but there was sorrow in his gaze.

  "Everyone who tried… never returned."

  But Joe did not care.

  "If that is my journey… then I will walk it to the end."

  ---

  Chapter Four: The Leap into the Unknown

  The night was moonless.

  Behind him, the shouts of the guards grew louder.

  Ahead of him, a cliff, with nothing but darkness below.

  Joe stopped for a moment, staring into the void.

  "Is this… my end?"

  But he had no choice. He had nothing to lose.

  Then, without hesitation… he jumped.

  "Are you insane?!" a voice screeched above him.

  A gray parrot flapped its wings frantically, diving after him.

  But iThe Forsaken Child

  In a world where only the strong survive, where the sound of swords is the only law, and where power alone determines a man's fate, there is a land ruled by a single truth:

  Those without strength… do not deserve to live.

  This is Wynx, the land of the Children of the Blade—a ruthless people who believe that life is nothing but an endless battlefield, where the weak have no place.

  Every child born here carries a sacred mark on their forehead, a symbol that determines their destiny:

  Crimson Red: The mark of absolute power, the chosen elite.

  Glowing Silver: The warriors of the elite, those with the right to lead.

  Pale Steel: The lowest rank of warriors, the weakest of the tribe.

  And finally… those born without a mark?

  They are seen as nothing but mistakes—a disgrace to existence itself.

  ---

  Chapter One: A Curse Without a Name

  On a bitter winter night, a woman struggled against the pain of childbirth, her cries shaking the walls of the small hut. The darkness swallowed everything, silence suffocated the air—until a soft cry pierced the cold night.

  "It’s a boy!"

  But the midwife's joy quickly turned to shock.

  She froze, staring at the newborn’s forehead…

  Nothing.

  No mark.

  Her hands trembled as she quickly wrapped the infant in cloth, trying to hide the truth. But it was already too late.

  A tall man stood before her, his eyes as sharp as blades, a sword glinting in his grip. He was Ricardo, the tribe’s second-in-command—one of the fiercest men in Wynx.

  He looked at the child and spat on the ground.

  "This is not my son. This is a curse. This… is a mistake."

  The mother’s voice trembled, but she clutched her baby tightly, tears streaming down her face.

  "He is your son! How can you—?!"

  Ricardo raised his sword high, his voice as cold as steel:

  "This child does not deserve to live. I will bury him with my own hands."

  But before he could strike, a deep voice cut through the air:

  "Stop, Ricardo."

  It was the Elder, the tribe’s leader. Though old, his presence was enough to silence everyone.

  His gaze fell upon the infant, unreadable and distant.

  Then, he spoke.

  "You will not kill him. But he will never be one of us. Send him to the Forgotten Quarters. He will live as a servant to the warriors."

  And so… the tale of the boy who belonged nowhere began.

  ---

  Chapter Two: Where Tears Are Not Heard

  Deep within the tribe, beyond the broken walls, there was a place known as the Forgotten Quarters.

  It was a graveyard for the living—a place where unwanted children were discarded, raised as servants, used as training dummies, and rarely… survived.

  Joe grew up in hunger, beatings, and humiliation.

  He learned not to ask.

  He learned not to make mistakes.

  He learned that crying meant nothing.

  One day, as he picked up a stale piece of bread from the dirt, an angry voice rang behind him.

  "How dare you, you filthy rat?!"

  A hard kick sent him crashing to the ground.

  Above him stood a towering boy, his face scarred, his eyes burning with hatred.

  "The forgotten do not eat. The forgotten do not live."

  Then the blows came.

  Joe lay motionless, his body aching. But his eyes remained open, filled with something they had never held before…

  Defiance.

  As he stared at the stars above, he whispered to himself:

  "When I turn ten… I will escape. I will find a world that does not know this cruelty."

  ---

  Chapter Three: The Legend of the Dragon’s Land

  In the shadows of the Forgotten Quarters, among the rotting huts and the discarded souls, there was an old man unlike any other.

  He was no mere servant or cruel overseer—he was a sage, exiled after his kingdom fell into oblivion.

  His name was Volsh, and he looked as if he had crawled out of ancient myths—a long beard, eyes drowning in secrets, and a voice that whispered of lost ages.

  The other children mocked him, calling him the Mad Hermit.

  But Joe did not see a madman.

  He saw a window into another world.

  One night, as the wind howled through the crumbling wood, Joe sat beside Volsh, staring at the fire dancing before them.

  "Volsh, is it true? Is the world beyond these walls only filled with swords and blood?"

  The old man chuckled, his voice rough with age.

  Then, he leaned in and whispered:

  "There is one place… unlike anything you know, boy. A place not ruled by strength, but by fire."

  Joe’s eyes widened.

  "What is it?"

  "The Land of Dragons."

  Joe’s breath caught in his throat.

  "The Land of Dragons?!"

  Volsh nodded slowly and pointed at the sky, where the moon hid behind drifting clouds.

  "Every person in this world is born with a mark that decides their fate. But there are creatures who bear the greatest mark of all… the dragons. Their marks are not mere symbols—they are living flames, burning upon their foreheads, granting them power beyond any sword."

  Joe swallowed hard, his mind painting images of giant creatures soaring through the sky, their foreheads glowing with fire.

  "They say that whoever tames a dragon… becomes stronger than any warrior, even if they were born without a mark."

  For the first time in his life… Joe did not feel weak.

  He felt hope.

  He had found his purpose.

  "How do I get there, Volsh?"

  The old man smiled, but there was sorrow in his gaze.

  "Everyone who tried… never returned."

  But Joe did not care.

  "If that is my journey… then I will walk it to the end."

  ---

  Chapter Four: The Leap into the Unknown

  The night was moonless.

  Behind him, the shouts of the guards grew louder.

  Ahead of him, a cliff, with nothing but darkness below.

  Joe stopped for a moment, staring into the void.

  "Is this… my end?"

  But he had no choice. He had nothing to lose.

  Then, without hesitation… he jumped.

  "Are you insane?!" a voice screeched above him.

  A gray parrot flapped its wings frantically, diving after him.

  But it was too late.

  The forgotten child had vanished into the abyss.

  And so…

  His new chapter began.

  His journey to the Land of Dragons had begun.

  His legend had begun.

  …To be continued.

  t was too late.

  The forgotten child had vanished into the abyss.

  And so…

  His new chapter began.

  His journey to the Land of Dragons had begun.

  His legend had begun.

  …To be continued.