The Chosen of Tengri(Fate Stay Night)

The steppe stretched endlessly under the vast night sky, the stars above glowing faintly in their fixed positions. The constellations seemed to whisper promises of strength, yet they offered no guidance, no answers.

Shirou stood at the center of a wide circle of earth that had been carved into precise, deliberate shapes—spirals, lines, and concentric rings. Weapons of all kinds surrounded the circle: spears, axes, bows, and blades, each arranged as if waiting to be claimed.

"This isn't just a battlefield" Shirou muttered, glancing at Genghis Khan, who stood nearby. "It feels... different."

"It is" Genghis said, his tone measured. He gestured at the circle. "This is the forge of understanding. A place where those who seek strength learn the essence of their tools—and of themselves."

Shirou's brow furrowed. "Tools?"

"All weapons are tools" Genghis explained, stepping closer. "Swords, spears, even the bow. Each is an extension of the wielder's will, a means to shape the world around them. But without understanding, they are nothing more than lifeless steel."

Shirou glanced at the weapons surrounding him. "So... I have to learn how to use all of these?"

"More than that," Genghis said, his gaze sharp. "You must understand them. Their purpose, their strengths, their limitations. Without that knowledge, you will never wield them properly."

Genghis motioned for Shirou to step into the circle.

Shirou obeyed, his boots crunching softly against the packed earth. As he entered, he felt a subtle shift in the air—a faint hum that resonated in his chest.

"Start with the bow" Genghis said, gesturing to a long, curved weapon resting on a nearby stand.

Shirou picked it up carefully, running his fingers along the polished wood. It felt sturdy yet flexible, the string taut beneath his touch.

"What do you see?" Genghis asked.

Shirou hesitated, frowning. "It's... a bow. What else am I supposed to see?"

Genghis sighed, his expression turning stern. "You're looking at the surface. That will not suffice. A true warrior sees what lies beneath. Now, close your eyes."

Shirou obeyed, shutting his eyes and focusing on the bow in his hands. At first, he felt only its physical presence—the weight of the wood, the tension of the string. But as he focused, something deeper began to emerge.

"It's... flexible" Shirou murmured. "But strong. The wood bends, but it doesn't break. The string holds the tension, even when it's pulled tight."

"Good" Genghis said, his tone softer now. "A bow's strength lies in its balance. Flexibility and tension working in harmony. Without one, the other is meaningless."

Shirou opened his eyes, looking at the bow with new understanding. "So, what now?"

"Now you test it" Genghis said, stepping back. He pointed toward a distant target—a small stone set on a rise, barely visible in the dim light. "Draw the string. Let the weapon speak for itself."

Shirou raised the bow, his movements hesitant at first. He nocked an arrow from the quiver lying nearby, pulling the string back until it felt like it might snap.

"Don't force it" Genghis said sharply. "A bow responds to control, not brute strength. Find the balance."

Shirou adjusted his grip, focusing on the tension in the string. He took a deep breath, steadying his aim, then released.

The arrow flew true, striking the stone with a sharp crack.

Shirou blinked in surprise, lowering the bow. "I hit it."

"You listened" Genghis said simply. "That is why you succeeded. A weapon will always tell you what it needs, if you are willing to hear it."

The next trial was a spear.

Genghis handed Shirou the weapon, its long shaft smooth and cool beneath his fingers. The blade at the tip gleamed faintly in the starlight, its edge razor-sharp.

"A spear is the weapon of distance" Genghis said. "It extends the reach of the warrior, keeping enemies at bay. But it is not invincible. Its strength can become its weakness."

Shirou twirled the spear experimentally, the weight of it unfamiliar. "What do you mean?"

"Overreach" Genghis said, his voice firm. "A spear's length can be its greatest flaw if the wielder fails to control it. The moment you lose balance, the weapon becomes a liability."

He gestured to a series of dummies arranged in a rough circle around them. "Strike them. Quickly. But remain in control."

Shirou moved through the exercise, his strikes fast but clumsy. The spear wobbled in his hands, its length making it difficult to maintain his footing.

"Focus!" Genghis barked. "You are not fighting the weapon. It is an extension of you. Trust it."

Shirou gritted his teeth, adjusting his grip. He slowed his movements, focusing on each strike. Gradually, the spear began to feel like a part of him, its weight and length no longer a hindrance.

When he finished, the dummies were scattered across the ground, their wooden frames splintered.

"Better" Genghis said with a nod. "But not enough. You will need more than this if you are to survive."

The trials continued through the night, each weapon presenting its own challenges. Genghis guided Shirou through each one, his words sharp and unyielding but never cruel.

As the stars began to fade, Genghis stood before Shirou, his expression unreadable.

"You've begun to understand" he said. "But understanding is not mastery. That will come in time."

Shirou frowned, exhaustion heavy in his limbs. "How much time?"

"As long as it takes" Genghis said simply. He gestured to the weapons scattered around them. "These are tools, nothing more. But the will behind them—that is what determines victory. Do not forget that."

When Shirou woke the next morning, his hands felt raw, as though he'd spent hours wielding heavy tools. The details of the dream were gone, but as he picked up a broom to sweep the floor, it felt oddly familiar in his grip, as though it, too, could be a weapon.

And when he practiced with his wooden sword later that day, the movements came faster, sharper, more fluid than ever before.