Another morning, Vynn had woken earlier than usual. Still groggy, he sat up in bed, gathering his thoughts, his eyes searching the room for his shirt. He slipped it on before pulling open the window. The sun was just beginning to rise, its faint rays catching his face, one half illuminated, the other swallowed by shadow.
Suddenly, the door burst open with a loud crash, as though something had been slammed against the wall. The sound rattled him.
"Have you woken up, Vynn? Huh? What're you doing, staring at the sun in your underwear? Hurry up and get ready, we're leaving soon."
Vynn scowled, pointed his finger toward the intruder. "Ever heard of knocking, you big gorilla? And what's with slamming my door at this hour? If I recall, we still have two hours before we leave!"
His sister only shrugged, a mischievous grin on her face. "Yeah, I know. I just wanted to make sure you were up. Too bad I was late. It would've been hilarious if I'd woken you the way I used to when you were little."
"You think I don't know that? That's exactly why I woke up earlier than usual. Bad luck for you I won." He let out a laugh, the kind that bordered on villainous mockery.
"Enough, you two." A stern voice drifted in from the hallway.
Sera appeared, broom in one hand, apron tied across her waist. Her eyes flicked disapprovingly between them. "Why are you idiots screaming so early in the morning? And you, Master Vynn, why are you still in your underwear? Put something on before you catch a cold."
Vynn finally snapped. "Unbelievable. First, the two of you invade my room without permission, then you criticise my clothes? Out. Both of you, out!" He shoved them lightly back with his hands and slammed the door shut in their faces.
Only Leyla lingered outside, momentarily staring at the door. Her expression softened into confusion. "What's wrong with him?"
I bathed and went down to the living room, where my mother sat sipping tea near the burning fireplace. The table was covered with flowers in a tall vase, their colours bright in the firelight. She looked up, her gaze softening as she invited me to join her.
I moved quietly and sat beside her. It was almost silent, the only sound the crackle of the fire. Warmth from the flames seeped into my bones, chasing away the morning's chill. I poured myself some tea, letting the fragrant steam drift toward my face.
We sat together in that gentle quiet, the silence stretching, making me comfortable. Then, my mother spoke, her voice low but clear.
"You know, Vynn, the only thing I ever regret is not giving birth to you." She paused, turning her cup in her hands. "You were so small when I found you. You looked at me with those black eyes of yours—as if you could see straight into my soul. I took you in. Made you part of our family. I truly feel you're my own son."
She hesitated, the firelight flickering over her face. "If you'd been born into this family, maybe your destiny would have been different. Maybe you'd have better control over your vessel, or maybe you would have been born with a Lord Vessel. But all I really want is for you to survive in this world, even if one day, I can't be here with you. Don't think you're powerless just because you're not born with a lord vessel, I truly believe you will become someone great in the future."
She paused before saying this, "After all, you are my son".
The flames popped softly, the warmth more comforting than ever. I glanced at my mother, her words settling inside me, both heavy and hopeful. For a moment, I didn't need to answer; just being there, sharing the quiet between us, was enough.
My sister came inside "Oh, what are you both talking about?" she interrupted the silence.
"Nothing," my mother replied gently. "I was just saying my goodbyes to Vynn. Leyla, teach him well. Go on now—be on your way. I'll be here, waiting to see your progress, Vynn."
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During the previous night
Far away on the eastern front of the Vaylen Kingdom, the air felt heavy with tension inside the grey stone walls of the old castle. Torches flickered against the cold walls. At the head of the long table sat a man clad in a crisp white and yellow military uniform. His shoulders were squared and his eyes sharp.
The man in white broke the silence with a hard question. "How long do you think this war will last? For how many more years must we fight before this nightmare ends?"
No one answered right away. Finally, a younger officer cleared his throat and spoke carefully, measuring every word. "General, given our present condition, our numbers are thinning. We are running dangerously low on both soldiers and supplies to hold this castle. But what puzzles me most is how the Demorai keep getting new resources. After the brutal conflict two years ago, we thought their advances would have stalled." His hands clenched tightly on the edge of the table.
The general's eyes narrowed. "That war didn't break them, did it?" Another officer joined in, her voice grim. "No, sir. The battle two years ago at Stormwatch should have crushed their spirit and ended this war—but it only slowed them. Stormwatch Fortress, that fortress has never fallen, in the history of Vaylen. Until that day, we believed it was unbreakable. But the Demorai came within inches of destroying it."
A third officer nodded slowly, his voice low with tension. "I have never seen such force in battle. There was one among the Demorai ranks who fought like a demon. He led the charge from the front, cutting through our defences like they were nothing."
"It took three of ascendants fighting together to bring that man down," the first said, voice tight with grim respect.
Suddenly, the man at the head of the table slammed his fist down, making the wooden board tremble. "Enough! Stop glorifying the enemy! We know the truth about that battle, but we are forbidden to speak of it. How many times must I repeat myself before you idiots learn to follow orders? Maron!"
"Yes, General," came the quick, sharp reply. Maron, a grizzled officer, stood at attention, sweat gleaming on her forehead under the torchlight.
"What of supplies?" the general demanded. "What of the men? We are running short on both. If this continues, this castle will not hold much longer."
"I have deployed all available reserves and also sent a letter for more supplies and manpower" Maron began, but before she could finish, the sharp clang of castle bells filled the hall.
Instantly, panic seized every face. "To arms! To your posts!" the general shouted, rising swiftly.
All officers left the room, the general grabbed his sword from its scabbard, the steel ringing clear, and he felt a chill crawl down his spine. The hall was suddenly silent again, except for the shadows.
Turning sharply, he found no retreating soldiers, no enemy, just the dense darkness pressed tight against the stone walls, swallowing all light. But his instincts screamed: something was coming.
Before him, a colossal form took shape, nine feet tall, the shadow's shape impossible to fully see but impossible to ignore. It stretched across the hall like a living nightmare.
"What is this? Who are you?" the general demanded, raising his flaming sword, the heat lighting up the corners of the dark room.
He swung his blade, burning threads of fire licking the edges of the dark figure as it rippled and shifted, swallowing flame like water.
"Speak," he ordered, voice shaking slightly, "What do you want?"
The shadow suddenly shifted and started morphing before his eyes, the twisted shapes of his wife and daughter appeared trapped within its grasp.
His breath caught in his throat as tears blurred his vision. "No! What have you done? I swear, I will send you to hell!"
He charged, sword blazing with fiery energy, but the shadow crushed his wife's broken body with one crushing hand. Blood sprayed, hot and red, across the halls and over his armour.
His knees buckled as madness filled his heart. "Please don't hurt my daughter! I will give you anything secrets, military locations, just let her go!"
The shadow tossed his daughter's body toward him like a rag doll. He caught her, cradling the small, limp form against his chest.
"Daddy?" came her soft, innocent voice. "What am I doing here? I was playing with Mommy…"
Relief flashed in his heart. "You are safe, sweetie. l'll get you out from here."
"But where's Mommy?" as she was saying, her face was ripped open, blood splattering across the general's cloak and face, he was stunned for a moment by seeing the horrifying image of his daughter life lifeless body.
His rage exploded. "You monster! I will burn you to ash!"
He unleashed a wave of flame that tore through the room, but the shadow laughed in a cold, cruel, hollow sound that filled the hall with echoes of dread.
"Come, try me", it taunted
He charged again, but with a flick of shadowy fingers, the darkness wrapped around him, tearing him limb from limb in an instant.
Blood pooled at the general's feet, and both his hands were cut open and torn apart, and his forehead was sliced open.
Suddenly, the doors burst open, and Maron stumbled in, breath ragged. "General! The Demorai have launched their assault! The battle is upon us!"
She froze, horror-stricken, as she saw the ruined hall, the blood, the broken bodies, and in the middle of that a pitch black abyss of the shadow standing as the last witness in the flickering flames.
"Who are you?" Maron stammered, her heart pounding. "I have to retreat. This is a disaster!" Maron started running towards the exit.
The shadow vanished into thin air, silent as the grave and followed Maron.
"What's happening? Where is the general? Where is Maron?" came urgent voices from the battlefield.
"We need him. We cannot fight without him."
They rushed to the chamber but found only ashes and spilt blood.
"What happened here? Where is the general?" one of them asked, panicking
Suddenly, a slow drip of blood fell from the ceiling.
They looked up and saw a horrifying scene which sent a chill into both of them.
"That… that is Maron, blurrf " one whispered, his voice trembling as he vomited.
Maron's mangled body hung from the ceiling, her hands and legs were turned around her, and her inner parts were hanging out. Her face was twisted beyond recognition—pain frozen in eternal silence, both of them retched in horror.
"We must leave. Now," another said, fear sharp in his tone.
Both of them bolted for the exit only to be stopped.
A dark shadow blocked their way.