Okay Lets Start From The Beginning

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The city of Vale was never quiet: the chatter of the people, the noises of the cars, and the howling of the wind. The lights in this city were so bright that they can light the entire city. Even on the blackest of nights. The city is always awake no matter what time.

"Vale the city that never sleeps," on top of one of the tallest buildings in Vale stood a young boy. He was in his teens, overlooking the busy streets of Vale near the edge of the roof.

He can feel the harsh windy breeze blowing onto his peachy complexion, his reddish hair being fluttered, the coolness and harshness of it flowing past him. He inhaled and exhaled, sighing "I don't know if I can do this..." The boy muttered in a worried tone. He looked down, then he tensed and his nerves tingled. He slowly walked backward and accidentally fell on his back. Lying on the cold hard ground and deeply sighed in frustration.

The boy clenched his hands against his forehead and sighed in frustration. The boy relaxed, dropping his hands away from his face, he looked up towards the black sky and stared at the broken moon.

"I wish I had the courage and bravery of the huntsmen from the stories. I wish I can be like them," The boy got up still on the ground contemplating, lost in his thoughts. "I have these strange powers and I don't know how to use them," he quietly said. "I want to be a huntsmen but I don't know if I'm ready," The boy doubted his abilities thinking he wouldn't amount to anything.

Then he remembered a particular memory that stuck to him ever since he was a kid, a conversation between him and his grandfather. "Grandpa?"A soft, young, energetic voice rang through his mind, he can see the memory now playing before him. The person he was speaking to responded but the voice was more elderly and full of experience, wisdom, and tiredness. "Yes, Flynn?" he answered back. "How do people become a good huntsmen?" The boy asked with genuine curiosity.

The elderly figure smiled got up from his chair, walked towards the boy, and lowered himself to match the boy's height. He simply patted his head and spoke with a soft gentle voice "Flynn. To become a good huntsman. Is to have four qualities. Bravery, selflessness, kindness, and finally perseverance!" The elderly man responded but the boy looked at his grandpa with confusion. Selflessness? Kindness? Why do you need those things to become a huntsman! It didn't make any sense to the young boy.

"Uhhh grandpa, I don't think that's how people become a good huntsman!" The elderly man tilted his head. "Oh? Alright, Flynn. Then tell me. What do you think makes a good huntsman? Hmmm." The boy pondered for a bit before speaking. "Their strength, a cool weapon, oh and a powerful semblance!"

The elderly nodded his head listening to his grandson with great intent. "Yes, those are excellent points! But it's not necessarily true. You don't need those things to become a good huntsman." The boy looked at his grandfather again and this time he tilted his head and listened.

"Allow me to explain! Sure strength is a good quality. But over time you will wither and age. Instead having experience and knowledge is a greater asset to have! A weapon is useful. But what if you lose that weapon or what if it was damaged. How do you fight now?" Then he pointed his finger to his head. "No, the greatest weapon in one's arsenal is the mind without that you got nothing." He took a deep breath before continuing. "And a semblance! You don't necessarily need a semblance to become a good huntsman. If you did have a semblance, it's about how you use it weak or strong. Let's say you have a weak semblance right? Well, you learn how to use it master its strengths and weaknesses then adapt to them! Making that once "weak" semblance a strong one."

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