Another dawn is yet to break on the great Valoryn Empire, yet Zephyr's heart remained clouded about what lay ahead. Gazing out the window, he lost himself in thought—his wavy dark blue hair messy, his radiant face marked by an unease no light could touch.
The scream pierced the silence of the castle halls, sending a shiver down Zephyr's spine. Only in his late teens, yet already trained in swordsmanship for years, he raced toward the sound with a mix of dread and instinct. His dark blue hair clung to his forehead, and his emerald-green eyes glimmered with a mixture of fear and determination. The black Aura surrounding him, streaked with hints of dark blue, throbbed with his heartbeat, responding to the rising tide of anger and grief.
When he reached the source of the scream, Zephyr froze outside his uncle Belthar's chamber. A cold dread ran through him—he knew the kind of man his uncle could be, but nothing could have prepared him for this.
He flung the door open. Aria lay sprawled on the floor, her bloodied apron torn and smudged from the struggle. The marks on her skin told the story of a fight no one should endure. Just days ago, she had moved through the castle halls with quiet diligence, carrying trays and tidying rooms with careful, practiced grace. Now, that spark of determination and resilience was extinguished.
"Ar-Aria…?" Zephyr whispered, his voice cracking, almost swallowed by the heavy air. He stepped closer, dread clawing at his chest. "A-Aria… please… no…"
Belthar stood in the center of the room, the candelabra in his hand dripping with crimson. Zephyr's chest tightened, a storm of rage, hatred, and revulsion crashing through him. The air smelled of iron and fire, heavy with the weight of unspeakable cruelty.
Zephyr's hands trembled as he unsheathed his sword, black Aura surging along the blade, the dark blue streaks reflecting the flickering candlelight. His rage fueled his Aura, thrumming like a heartbeat as he focused all his energy. He lunged at his uncle, every strike precise and fast, testing the defenses of the man who had caused so much suffering.
Belthar smirked, stepping aside with unnerving ease. "What's your problem, brat?" he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Just because you're my nephew doesn't mean I won't strike you. An elder's duty is to keep the youth in line."
Zephyr tightened his grip, his chest heaving. "I… I won't let your cruelty go unanswered, Belthar!" he growled. "Not today!"
The clash of steel rang again, sparks flying as the two fought. Minutes stretched, muscles burned, and sweat stung Zephyr's eyes, yet his focus sharpened. He began to predict Belthar's movements, reading the subtle shifts in his stance, the twitch of a shoulder, the glint of his eyes. With a swift, precise strike, Zephyr's blade connected with Belthar's cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.
Belthar staggered back, eyes blazing with fury. "You insolent brat!" he spat, his voice thick with rage. "How dare you strike me! Do you think you've learned enough to face me? I am your superior in every way—blood, skill, and power!"
Zephyr's hands shook, but not from fear—he could barely contain the storm of rage and grief inside him. "You… you monster!" he spat, his voice cracking. "I will stop you, Belthar!"
Belthar sneered, wiping the blood from his cheek. "Bold words… but words alone won't save you!" He lunged, parrying Zephyr's next strike with practiced precision, his movements smooth, almost effortless. "You've learned a few tricks, but raw anger is a dangerous teacher… and you, my boy, are still a student."
The chamber seemed to shrink around them—the candelabra, blood, and broken furniture a silent testament to the violence that had already erupted. Zephyr could feel the weight of every strike, the pressure of every dodge, and the hum of his Aura pulsing in sync with his heartbeat. The black and dark blue shimmered along his sword as if feeding on his fury, lending strength to his every move.
The clash continued, sparks scattering across the stone floor. Slowly, Zephyr began to anticipate Belthar's attacks with more precision. A shift in his uncle's stance here, a subtle turn of his shoulder there—he read them all. Finally, with a burst of calculated speed, Zephyr's blade struck Belthar squarely on the cheek. The taste of blood and the crackle of Aura filled the room.
Belthar's eyes widened in shock, then flared with uncontrollable fury. "You dare—!" he roared, advancing with renewed ferocity. "Insolent boy! I will crush you for this insolence!"
Zephyr braced himself, black Aura swirling violently around his blade, dark blue streaks twisting like lightning. "I… I won't let you hurt anyone else!" he shouted, every word shaking with emotion.
Belthar lunged with deadly speed, aiming a strike straight at Zephyr's heart. But before the blade could reach him, a sudden force knocked it aside. Zephyr stumbled back, eyes wide in shock. Someone—someone else—had intervened, leaving Belthar momentarily off-balance.
The room held its breath. Sparks of Aura and bloodstains glimmered in the flickering candlelight. Zephyr's chest heaved, his emerald eyes scanning the hall, heart pounding. The battle was far from over, yet a new variable had entered the fray—and the outcome of this confrontation had just shifted.