Valdrik Fortress stood beneath a winter sky that seemed reluctant to melt. The air cut like a sharp blade, and the snow, hardened by endless nights, crunched beneath the guards' boots. Within the walls, however, the most dangerous chill wasn't the one blowing from the north, but the one that wound through the corridors in the form of glances, whispers, and silences laden with poison.
Kevin and Kelvin Blizzard had returned from their last mission with their hands stained with other people's blood, and not all of it belonged to the enemy. That patrol had been a routine mission, but along the way, they found traces of a dark incursion and a hostile group far superior in number and strength than they had been warned. The mission had been a success thanks to pure instinct and determination, but no one in the fortress ignored that it had been more of a trap than a duty. In the training room, Kevin wielded his sword with movements that seemed to flow like water, his mana vibrating along the blade. Kelvin, across from him, wielded his own with the same skill, though his style was more ferocious, almost predatory. The clash of steel resonated like a war drum.
"You keep opening your left guard too wide," Kevin said, knocking his brother's weapon away with a precise twist.
"And you still think everything is solved with patience," Kelvin retorted, delivering a slash that nearly grazed Kevin's neck. "Not out in the open."
Garron Martrek, the weapons master, watched from the sidelines with his arms crossed. His hard, battle-hardened gaze seemed to measure every movement, every breath.
"It doesn't matter how sharp your swords are if you don't know when to draw them," he finally snarled. "Next time someone tries to send you to your death, you'd better see them coming before they surround you."
Martrek's words were not casual. Everyone knew that within the fortress there were hands pulling the strings against the Blizzards.
That night, as the snow swirled against the battlements, three men gathered in a veteran captain's chamber. The door was closed, and candlelight cast long shadows across the map spread out on the table.
"Lord Varyn favors them too much," said one, a man with a gray beard and grim gaze. "And Martrek trains those lads as if they were heirs to the Northern throne itself."
"I've heard rumors that their mana is... different," added another, as thin as a dagger. "If they continue to excel, there will be no knight who won't follow them."
"That's why we must lure them out before it's too late," declared the captain, marking a section of the map beyond the icy passes with a finger. "There are routes that even the most experienced dare not patrol." If we send them there... the cold, or whatever lives there, will do the rest. The three shadows leaned over the map, sealing a silent pact.
In the following days, Kevin and Kelvin noticed the change. Some apprentices who had previously greeted them now gave them only a cold nod. Others, younger, avoided them, as if afraid their mere presence would bring them misfortune.
A small scuffle broke out on the parade ground when one of the veterans, a burly man named Rhogar, mocked the Snowdrifts' last mission.
"I heard they ran more than they fought," he said with a crooked smile.
Kelvin took a step forward, but Kevin put a hand on his shoulder.
"If you want to check, we can repeat it outside the walls," Kevin replied calmly, though his blue eyes left no room for doubt.
Rhogar didn't reply, but the tension hung like an invisible edge.
In the main hall, Lord Varyn Valdrik listened silently as his advisors presented reports on patrols, supplies, and training. Though he said nothing, his gaze lingered more than once on Kevin and Kelvin, who stood in the background, bearing the posture of soldiers who knew their time to act had not yet come.
Lord Varyn was no stranger to rumors or movements in his own house. He knew there were those who feared the twins as much as they admired them. And if he had learned anything in his years of command, it was that fear and admiration, together, could be more dangerous than any enemy beyond the stone wall.
As the session ended, Lord Varyn gestured for them to come closer.
"An important mission will arrive soon," he said quietly, so only they could hear. "It will not be easy. It will not be fair. But it will be yours."
Kevin and Kelvin exchanged a brief glance, as they always did before accepting a challenge.
The pieces of the game were beginning to move, and although they were still far from the title that would one day resonate in the mouths of bards and soldiers, the path towards it was being woven, step by step.