One sunny day, Lone was going about his usual chores,
"A short distance away, Taro and Rek—sons of respected monks—were plotting mischief."
they came out of abush and shouted
"Hey, summonless freak!" Taro sneered one afternoon. "Why don't you summon something? Oh, wait—there's nothing there!"
Lone stood still, his broom clutched in hand, eyes low.
Rek raised a glowing summoner's gem. The firebird burst forth in a flash of red and gold, circling above.
"Let's see if he can take a little heat!" Rek shouted.
The flamebird dove.
But it never reached.
A cold wind slashed the air. A low, icy growl followed.
A shimmering frost-wolf lunged out of nowhere, intercepting the firebird with a snarl that froze the ground beneath it. The air hissed. The flamebird shrieked and vanished back into its gem.
Taro and Rek stumbled back, faces pale.
From behind the wolf, a boy with spiked black hair stepped forward. He was older than Lone, with sharp eyes and a calm demeanor.
"That's enough," he said. His summon stood by him, blue mist curling from its breath.
"Who are you?" Taro demanded.
"Name's Thorn," the teen said flatly. "And I hate bullies."
They ran, leaving silence in their wake.
Lone stared at the ice wolf, then at Thorn.
"You... stopped them," Lone said, voice small.
"Didn't do it for thanks," Thorn muttered, glancing away. "I used to live here. Thought I'd visit. Saw a fight. Didn't like it."
"Your summon…" Lone whispered.
"Frostbite," he said. "He listens…" Not because I control him, but because he trusts me."
Lone blinked. The word 'trust' felt foreign.
"How… do you get a summon to trust you?"
"By trusting yourself first."
Thorn stood.
"Summons don't answer noise. They answer heart. Speak to the world like you mean it—and maybe, just maybe, someone will answer."
And then he left
That night, the wind whispered through the temple garden. Lone sat beneath the ancient prayer tree where hundreds had tied hopes onto paper ribbons.
He stared at the sky, at the stars blinking like distant watchers.
He thought of Taro and Rek. Of Frostbite. Of Thorn's words.
He had no summon.
No strength.
No legacy.
Just a name, and silence.
But for the first time, silence didn't feel empty. It felt waiting.
He looked at his hands again—still small, still calloused. But they didn't shake anymore.
He took a deep breath.
And for the first time, he spoke his decision aloud.
"I'll find mine. Even if I'm alone… I'll make them hear me."