Conviction?

Qing's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and curiosity coursing through him. "But Grandpa Bai, I've only seen you hammer away all day. When did you have time to learn how to master a sword?"

Bai's weathered face etched with lines of regret and sorrow. His eyes, once fierce and determined, now held a profound sadness as he gazed upon the gleaming blade in his hands. With a cloth-stained crimson, he gently wiped away the remnants of battle.

"Ah, Young Qing, there is much you have yet to learn about my past. Before I became a good blacksmith, I was a fighter."

Grandpa Bai sighed, the weight of his past burdens evident in his weary demeanor. As he continued to wipe the blood from the blade, his gaze turned inward, lost in the sea of memories that washed over him. With each stroke of the cloth, his regrets resurfaced, a reminder of the lives he had taken in his days as a warrior.

"I was once a general, Qing," Grandpa Bai began, his voice tinged with melancholy. "Long ago, I walked the path of the sword, honing my skills and seeking to protect those I held dear. But in the pursuit of glory and honor, I pushed myself and ultimately failed the people I held most dear."

"I eventually realized the true cost of wielding a blade," Grandpa Bai continued, his voice tinged with remorse. "The pain we inflicted... "

"I had deviated from my original path. Me and my comrades lusted for too much power and eventually many were consumed by our greed. We should all separate and retire when we aren't needed, but choose to use our name and fame to accomplish a task that we simply could not."

"I turned away from the path of the sword and devoted myself to the craft of blacksmithing, a form of atonement for my past."

"If only I had just retired,"

"Grandpa Bai, what was your original path?"

Was Grandpa Bai always a blacksmith or was he just a swordsman? Who was 'we'? Grandpa Bai's past was getting more and more mysterious as he continued on with his mindless mumbling.

"I'm sorry, Young Qing,"

"Forget what happened tonight and let's head back to the camp,"

Qing's curiosity burned even brighter, his mind buzzing with questions. As Grandpa Bai's voice trailed off, a sense of yearning to uncover the truth enveloped him. He wanted to understand the depth of Grandpa Bai's past, the secrets that lay hidden beneath his weary facade.

But Grandpa Bai's expression remained somber, his eyes filled with regret. With a heavy sigh, he stabbed his blade on the ground, as if trying to bury the memories along with it.

As they made their way back to the camp, the forest seemed to echo with the whoos of the owls. Qing couldn't shake off the feeling that there was so much more to Grandpa Bai's story, waiting to be unraveled.

The campfire crackled and cast dancing shadows, illuminating the weary faces of their companions. Grandpa Bai settled down by the fire, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames. Qing sat beside him, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

"Grandpa Bai," Qing spoke softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of respect and intrigue. "Who were you before? Who were 'we'?"

Grandpa Bai's gaze remained fixed on the dancing flames, the flickering light casting a somber glow on his weathered face. The crackling fire seemed to mirror the turmoil within him, as if urging him to reveal the secrets he had long kept buried.

With a heavy sigh, Grandpa Bai turned his attention to Qing, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and determination. The lines on his face deepened, etching a map of his troubled past.

"I was just a simple soldier in a small platoon on a journey to protect the kingdom and uphold justice. Each of us was skilled in our own right, honing our abilities to become pillars in our own right."

"We all learned some of us learned magic, some of us mastered it. While others mastered the blade."

Qing leaned closer, captivated by the glimpse into Grandpa Bai's past. The crackling flames seemed to dance with anticipation, as if eager to reveal the untold tales of valor and sacrifice.

"We were a diverse group, bound by a common purpose," Grandpa Bai continued, his voice resonating with a hint of nostalgia. "Mages, archers, swordsmen, and healers, we stood united against the forces that threatened our kingdom."

A flicker of pride gleamed in Grandpa Bai's eyes, momentarily overshadowing the sorrow that had plagued him earlier. Memories of camaraderie and shared victories seemed to breathe life into his weary spirit.

"When we finally finished protecting the kingdom, we finally achieved peace." Grandpa Bai continued, his voice tinged with regret. "We faced unimaginable challenges, how to run a kingdom built by the blood of warriors. We were warriors not philosophers, we didn't understand the basics of how to build a kingdom up."

"We were skilled in the arts of combat, but ill-prepared for the responsibilities of ruling," Grandpa Bai's voice wavered with a mix of remorse and frustration. "In our pursuit of justice and protection, we failed to recognize the complexities of governance. The kingdom we had fought so hard to defend needed more than just warriors; it needed wise leaders and administrators."

A somber silence enveloped the campfire as the weight of their past actions settled upon them. Qing felt a profound sense of empathy for Grandpa Bai and his comrades, understanding that their intentions had been noble, yet their lack of foresight had led to unintended consequences.

"I realized that our strength on the battlefield did not translate to the realm of governance," Grandpa Bai continued, his voice filled with a tinge of resignation. "In the end, we made grave mistakes, and the kingdom suffered for it."

"Some of us turned to Spectral beings that devoured the lives of their loved ones and then themselves. While others just left the kingdom they worked so hard to protect in the hands of the corrupt."

Grandpa Bai's eyes met Qing's, a mixture of regret and determination shining within them.

"We, a pantheon of warriors who once stood as heroes, were humbled by our shortcomings. It was then that I made the decision to step away from the path of the sword and dedicate myself to the arts."

Qing's eyes widened, his mind reeling with the revelations that unfolded before him. The weight of their past mistakes and the devastating consequences of their actions hung heavily in the air. Grandpa Bai and his comrades had been thrust into a world of unimaginable challenges, and the choices they made had shaped the destiny of the kingdom they once fought to protect.

The realization that some of them had succumbed to darkness and others had abandoned their responsibilities left Qing with a mix of sadness and admiration for Grandpa Bai's decision to seek redemption through the art of blacksmithing.

"You and your comrades faced unimaginable trials," Qing murmured, his voice filled with compassion. "The burdens you carried, the mistakes you made... I can't imagine how heavy they must have been. But I will make a difference. "

*Yawn*

As the campfire slowly burned down, Qing and Grandpa Bai sat in quiet contemplation. The embers glowed with warmth and possibility, casting a soft light upon their faces.

"That's what she once said," Grandpa Bai looked at the fire with remorse."They bur…"

The campfire slowly dies, Grandpa Bai sat in quiet contemplation. Watching Qing slowly fall asleep.

"Never, forget your conviction young Qing," Grandpa Bai watches as the embers slowly die in front of them.

"Never, forget your conviction even in the darkest times,"

He carries the sleeping Qing back into their tent.

"Never, for forget your conviction even in the face of death,"