Flashback...
"Top of every test."
"Most valuable player in archery, swordsmanship, and combat."
"The teachers' favorite."
"The ideal man in every woman's eyes."
"Handsome, well-built, tall. Respectful to elders."
"Born into an elite family."
That was Dayesh's life before he was thrust into the role of head general, leading a group tasked with suppressing the enemies that threatened Caelumn.
Many women tried to gain his attention. Some even had their families approach his, hoping to arrange a marriage. Yet among all those who tried, none ever caught his interest.
His focus remained fixed on one thing alone. His duty.
Dayesh was raised in a world filled with expectations. There was never anything ordinary about the way he grew up.
Even as a child, it was already clear to everyone that he carried something different within him. It was not just his physical strength, but the way he carried himself, the way he thought. He was quiet, yet when he spoke, his words carried weight. He was disciplined, but never cruel without reason.
His family was one of the most prominent in Caelumn, a lineage known for its service, its strength, and its unwavering loyalty to order. Because of this, a simple life was never an option for him.
He was expected to be the best. And he became exactly that.
At an age when most children were still learning how to hold wooden practice swords, Dayesh was already being trained with real weapons. He was not neglected, far from it. He was guided by skilled instructors, hardened warriors, and even his own father, a man whose name carried respect on the battlefield.
"Strength alone is not enough," his father would often say. "You must have a mind that does not waver."
And so, that was what they forged within him.
He did not simply become good.
He became perfect, at least in the eyes of others. But behind all the praise, there was something no one seemed to notice. He had never learned how to live for himself.
At the academy, no one could surpass Dayesh. From written examinations to combat drills, he always stood at the top. Yet he never boasted, never sought recognition. To him, every achievement was simply another step toward meeting what was expected of him.
"You did it again, Dayesh!"
"Don't you ever get tired?"
"How do you even manage all of this?"
These were questions he heard countless times.
But his responses were always the same. A small nod, or a faint, polite smile. Not because he did not care. But because he did not know how to be anything else.
The attention from women never escaped him.
Every time he walked through the academy halls, he could feel eyes following him. Whispers filled the air, even if he could not make out every word.
"That's him…"
"He's so handsome…"
"I wish he would notice me…"
Sometimes, they would approach him directly.
"Dayesh, would you like to walk with me later?"
"Or maybe… join us for a while?"
And every time, he would decline.
Not because there was someone else in his heart, but because there was no one at all.
To Dayesh, relationships were responsibilities. And if he could not give his full attention, his full commitment, then it was better not to begin anything at all.
One evening, he stood alone at the training grounds, the world quiet except for the faint sound of wind brushing against the targets.
He drew his bow.
Released.
One arrow. Then another. Then another.
Each one struck the center without fail.
Perfect.
And yet, there was no satisfaction.
"Still not enough," he murmured under his breath.
He did not know what he was searching for.
Only that something was missing.
The path to becoming head general was not handed to him easily. Even with his unmatched skill, the responsibility was too great to give without trial.
So they tested him. Not just his strength, but his ability to lead.
He was placed in simulated battles, tasked with commanding his fellow students in strategic exercises. It was there that people began to see another side of him.
Dayesh was not just a warrior.
He was a leader.
He did not shout. He did not intimidate. Yet every word he spoke carried certainty.
"We move through here."
"We wait for the right moment."
"No one gets left behind."
And in every battle, they won.
But there was one incident he could never forget.
A simulation that felt far too real.
One of his teammates was severely injured due to a mistake made by another member. In that moment, Dayesh saw something he had rarely witnessed.
Fear.
Not just in the eyes of others.
But in himself.
If it had been a real battle, someone would have died.
From that day on, something within him changed. Being good was no longer enough.
He had to be flawless. There was no room for mistakes.
As time passed, his reputation solidified. He became known as one of the most reliable warriors in Caelumn.
And eventually, the day came.
"From this moment forward, you will serve as head general."
He simply nodded.
No celebration. No visible emotion. But deep within. He knew this was only the beginning.
Before the chaos, before the decisions that would reshape his life. Before he would meet the one who would challenge everything he believed. Dayesh was a man who seemed complete in the eyes of others…
But was not whole within himself.
There were nights when sleep refused to come. Not because of fear. But because of silence.
He was used to the noise of training, the clash of steel, the echo of commands. But when he was alone in his room, with nothing but stillness surrounding him, something surfaced.
His own thoughts. "What is it that I truly want?"
It was a question he could never answer.
Because since childhood, he had never been taught how to dream. Only how to fulfill expectations.
One afternoon, while walking through the gardens of his family estate, he paused.
Laughter
It caught his attention.
A group of children ran across the open space, their voices light, carefree, untouched by the weight of responsibility.
No expectations. No burdens.
Just the present moment.
He watched them for a while.
And for the first time, there was a faint ache in his chest.
Not envy.
But something deeper.
A quiet longing for something he had never known.
"Dayesh."
He turned at the sound of his mother's voice.
"Do you ever get tired?"
It was such a simple question, yet he found himself unable to answer immediately.
Was he tired?
He did not know.
Because to him, exhaustion was something to ignore, not to acknowledge.
"No," he replied shortly.
But his mother only smiled, a knowing smile, as if she understood something he could not yet admit.
"Rest is not weakness." He said nothing in return.
Because in his world, rest had always been seen as a flaw. And so, he continued.
He kept fighting. He kept striving for perfection.
He kept fulfilling every duty placed upon him—
Until the day came when all of it would be tested.
A day that would show him that.
Not every battle can be won with strength and discipline alone.
And not every heart can remain closed forever.
Before Jauna, Dayesh was a warrior, a leader.
A symbol of excellence.
But more than anything, he was a man who had never learned how to live for his own heart.