Battles aren’t always fought with magic or swords. Sometimes, they’re fought with wit, especially when it involves siblings who take their duties far too seriously.

“Hey, Alex! Where are you off to?” A high-pitched voice cheeped up just as I stepped outside my house. For a moment, I thought maybe everything was indeed going as planned.

I turned my body sideways. Darn it! Why do I keep running into my siblings today? Is something bad going to happen to me, or what?

“I was just on my way to your house,” my brother Alistair added as he caught up with me. Honestly, with his scrawny frame, you’d think he might float away if a gust of wind hit him just right.

“And why’s that?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“For your magic lessons, obviously. And don’t even think about skipping out this time.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Can’t you chill for once?”

“Not happening! Professor Wallenby has tasked me with training you, and I take my duties seriously.”

Ah, Professor Wallenby. Our family wizard had been living with us for as long as I could remember. He was a clever old coot with a sharp tongue and an even sharper wit. His quarters were on the east side of the estate, buried under a mountain of weighty tomes and mysterious relics.

“Come to think of it, Alistair. What made Professor Wallenby pick you for this task?”

“Hmm…” He tapped his chin like he was deep in thought.

“Well?” I nudged him.

“Because I’m a reliable person?”

“Nope.”

“Because I’m smart?”

“Not that either. You know a ton of theory, but can’t cast a spell yourself.”

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not belittling my brother here. It’s just that one of the reasons my sword skills were still sitting in the novice stage and my spellcasting was practically non-existent probably had something to do with this dude.

“All right, I give up. Why then?”

“How should I know? But Professor Wallenby knows. Why don’t you go ask him, and I’ll wait… right here.”

“Okay, don’t move a muscle.” He pointed a finger at me before scurrying off.

And here I thought I couldn’t get out of this. Sometimes, it was just too easy to mess with my siblings, especially this one.

It wasn’t even a minute before my path was blocked again. This time by a tall, burly man with a rugged appearance. His broad shoulders and muscular build made him look like he could take down a dozen men without breaking a sweat. His beard, streaked with gray, and his sharp eyes missed nothing.

This person was Warden Grinwald, the head sword trainer for the Stormbourne household, a man of few words but many scars. His leather armor, worn and battered, seemed like a second skin.

“Master Alex. Where are you off to?” His deep voice rumbled like distant thunder.

Seriously? This is the second time today I’ve been asked the same question.

“Just heading to town, Warden,” I sighed. “And I’ve told you a hundred times already, you can drop the honorifics when you speak to me.”

“All right, Alex,” Grinwald smiled. “So, why are you going to town? Don’t tell me you’re off for a drinking session.”

“Not this time.” I shook my head and explained the situation as briefly as I could.

“I see,” Grinwald stroked his beard. “Well, since you’re going to beat up an old man, let’s have a sparring match to warm up your muscles.”

“Hmm…” I squinted at him.

“Come on, Alex, spare me having to lie to your dad this one time.”

“All right.” I nodded, and the two of us headed to the nearest training yard.

After selecting the wooden blade from its holder, I pointed out my obvious shortcoming. “No magic, ‘cause I still can’t cast yet.”

“Everyone knows that, Alex,” Grinwald grinned, and we took our positions. “Ready?” he asked, his stance relaxed but poised for action.

“Ready.” I tightened my grip on the sword hilt.

Grinwald and I started circling in silence. Neither of us moved as we waited for the other to make the first move. His eyes shone like a hunter tracking its prey. I knew not to take him lightly.

Leaping ahead, I directed a snappy blow to his side. Grinwald easily fended it off, countering by casually deflecting my attack with a wave of his hand. Before I had time to regain my composure, he followed up with an attempt to hit me on the shoulder. I just managed to stop the blow. But my arms shook with the force of it.

“Too slow,” Grinwald commented. “You’re hesitating.”

Trying to push back, I began a series of quick slashes, hoping to catch him off guard. But Grinwald glided, lightly stepping and blocking all my blows. Those few minutes of battle felt like an hour-long tap dance. Grinwald wasn’t even remotely winded, but I was panting like a warthog.

I needed to find an opening, some way to break through his defenses. I feinted to the left, then quickly shifted to the right, aiming for his ribs. But Grinwald saw through my move, catching my blade with his and twisting it out of my hand. The sword clattered to the ground, leaving me defenseless.

“I surrender.” I raised my hands.

“You’re too predictable, Alex,” Grinwald’s voice steady. “You rely too much on your speed and agility. In a real fight, that won’t always be enough. Anyway, on a positive note, you’ve mastered the swordsmanship basics.”

“Is that something I can brag about to the students at the academy?” I mustered a smile.

Grinwald laughed. “Mastery of the basics is a good start, but remember, there’s always more to learn.”

I shook my head and chuckled. “Point taken.”

After thanking Grinwald for the spar, I returned the sword to its holder and headed toward the main gate.

A shadow crossed my shoulder as I walked through an archway, prompting me to glance back. I looked toward the shadow’s source but found nothing, just the nearby building’s shadow cast by the sun. On instinct, I looked down and prepared for anything that might strike from below. By ‘anything,’ I was, of course, referring to the feline creatures that roamed the estate, especially Nibbles, who had a habit of following me.

Nothing. The cobblestone tiles spanned deeper toward the main gate.

Ah, yes. This was where Grand-Uncle Logan had met his tragic end. He had fallen from his horse here and broken his neck. A sad tale, indeed. No matter. Delayed any longer, I’d miss my chance for revenge. I turned on my heel and hastened my pace, passing through the smaller inner courtyard of the estate.

The century-old fountain ahead was a prominent feature, commissioned by one of the Stormbournes to liven up the courtyard. It depicted a man, sword in hand, poised for battle. Surrounding it were flower beds and small trees, adding much-needed color to the otherwise austere space.

An elderly gardener tended the plants. There were two other figures in the courtyard. Aiden, my eldest brother, and Lucian Stormbourne, Marquess of House Stormbourne, and our father.

My father was clean-shaven with strong, chiseled features. A sturdy jaw, high cheekbones, and a straight noble nose. His blue eyes appeared deep, marked by years of battlefield experience. His hair, cut short, was tinged with silver at the temples.

His reputation extended far beyond the borders of Valoria. Known as the “Tempest Blade,” he was the first magic swordsman in three hundred years to reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship, the Transcendent stage. His mastery of the blade was legendary. In battle, he moved like a storm. Swift, unpredictable, and devastating. He had served the kingdom with unwavering loyalty, leading countless campaigns against various threats, both foreign and domestic. I bet he’d never have to pay for a drink in any tavern anywhere in the world.

Ahh, if only I could trade places with him. I’d be lounging with barmaids on my lap, golden ale pouring straight into my gaping maw. Imagine minstrels serenading me with ballads about my heroic battles against the Beverage Wardens, the notorious buzzkill tasked with stopping underage drinkers like me from getting our tipsy fix in public. What a way to go down in legend.

My fantasy was cut short when my father’s eyes locked onto me. I glanced the other way, silently praying. “Please don’t let him see me—”

“Alexander.” Despite the considerable distance between us, his voice rang out like a thunderclap.

I spun around and jogged toward him. As I neared, I came to a stop and bowed. “Yes, Pop… er, I mean Dad… wait, I mean Sir.” I swallowed hard, clamping my lips shut.

“Where are you off to?” My father’s gaze pinned me in place.

“Uh… I just finished sparring with Warden Grinwald and… I was going to freshen up.”

“Good,” my father nodded. “I want you to continue your training until the day before you leave for the academy.”

“I will, sir,” I replied with a firm nod.

“Good,” he repeated, his eyes still stern. “I’m hosting a farewell gathering for the family this evening, and I expect you to be there.”

“Eh? What farewell gathering?”

My father’s expression hardened, clearly unimpressed by my ignorance.

Luckily, Aiden came to my rescue, as he always did. And by the way, that was what an elder brother should do for his younger sibling in any circumstance. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s my fault. I forgot to inform Alex about your trip.” He turned toward me and continued, “The king has summoned all the high nobles to Tuvia. Our parents are heading to the capital city later this evening, together with Alice.”

Thanks, dude. I wanted to voice my appreciation to him for saving me from this sticky situation. He most likely had mentioned the matter to me, but I couldn’t remember it, probably because I was drunk at the time.

A fact about me is that if you want to tell me something important, better do it before seven in the evening.

I shifted my attention toward my father and nodded, showing him I understood the matter. But inwardly, I winced, knowing I’d have to put on my best smile for the evening’s festivities.

“When I’m gone, Aiden will be in charge of all the family affairs,” my father added.

“Understood, sir,” I acknowledged.

Noticing the long pause coming from both of them, I quickly relieved myself of this uncomfortable situation. “May I be excused now, sir?”

“Very well, you may go,” my father nodded.

“Thank you, sir.” Turning on my heel, I began jogging away at the same pace as when I approached them earlier. Once I had created a fair distance between us, I slowed down into a casual walk.

I brushed off the meeting with my father and Aiden, shoving it to the back of my mind. I still had to track down the old man and be involved in a one-sided beating. But as I was still on the estate, a voice called out from behind.

“Alex, where are you off to?”

Why did the same old question keep following me around wherever I went?

Turning to the caller, I saw my mom and one of her female servants, each holding a basket of apples, approaching closer.

“I’m going to town for a while, Mom. There’s an old man who gave me something last night, and now I’m returning the favor.” Yep, the favor I was talking about was my fist.

“On foot?” She glanced in the direction I was heading, which was not toward the estate’s stables.

“Yep,” I nodded.

Another fact about me is that it’s not that I don’t know how to ride a horse. It’s just that my butt always hurts after riding, even over a short distance.

My mom motioned for me to come closer. “Come here, Alex. I want to give you something, just in case you’re late returning to see me off to Tuvia.”

That’s my mom, always knowing what’s on my mind.

I stepped closer, and she gently brought my head down with a hand before kissing my forehead.

A moment of silence passed before she burst out, “Alex! Did you drink last night? I can still smell the ale!” She gave me a light shove, her nose crinkling in disgust.

That’s my mom again. Her sense of smell was like a bloodhound’s.

“But I brushed my teeth three times,” I lied. It was really just once. I brought my sleeves closer to my face for a sniff, even though I’d already changed out of last night’s attire. “Are you sure it’s not coming from my clothes?” Sometimes I asked myself. Do frequent drinkers have an aura of alcohol enveloping them even when they aren’t drinking?

“No, the smell comes from your mouth. And don’t let your father catch you,” she warned, her eyes narrowing.

I blew out a sigh. “Yeah, I know that. That’s why I don’t stand close to him.”

My mom smiled. “Okay, Alex. I’ll see you again before you leave for the academy.”

“I’m hurt, Mom! What makes you think I won’t come back to see you off later?”

“Yeah, right,” my mom and the servant giggled at my remark. “Bye, dear,” she added.

I shook my head, amused at her reaction. “Okay, bye Mom.” I waved as I trotted off toward the main gate.