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

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

I turned sideways and there stood my brother Alistair, frowning like a dog that’s been scolded for doing absolutely nothing wrong.

Damn 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,” 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, bro?”

“Not happening! Professor Wallenby has tasked me with training you, and I take my duties seriously,” he replied, placing his hands on his hips.

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 tucked away on the east side of the estate, buried under a mountain of tomes and strange relics.

Now that I think about it, I never really understood why he chose Alistair to tutor me in the first place.

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

He tapped his chin like he was trying to channel the answer straight from the heavens.

“Hmm…”

“Well?” I gave him a little nudge.

“Because I’m a reliable person?”

“Nope.” I shook my head slowly.

“Because I’m smart?”

“Not that either.” I snicker. “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 are still stuck in the novice stage and my spellcasting is almost non-existent probably has something to do with this dude.

“All right, I give up. Why then?”

“How should I know?” I shrugged. “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 got blocked again. This time, it was a tall, burly man with a rugged look. His broad shoulders and muscular frame made him seem like he could take down a dozen men without breaking a sweat. His beard, streaked with gray, and his sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing.

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

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

Seriously? That was the second time today someone had asked me the same thing.

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

“Okay, Alex,” Grinwald smiled. “So, why are you going there now? Don’t tell me you’re off for a drinking session.”

“Not this time,” I replied, then filled him in as briefly as I could.

“I see,” Grinwald said, stroking 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 made our way to the nearest training yard.

I picked a wooden blade from its holder and pointed out the obvious. “No magic, ‘cause I still can’t cast yet.”

“Everyone knows that, Alex,” Grinwald grinned as we took our positions. “Ready?” he asked, his stance relaxed but clearly alert.

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

Grinwald and I started circling each other in silence, waiting for someone to make the first move. His eyes gleamed like a hunter locked onto prey. I knew better than to underestimate him.

Then I struck first. I leaped forward, aiming a sharp blow at his side. Grinwald deflected it effortlessly, just casually waving my attack aside.

Before I could recover, he followed up with a hit to my shoulder. I barely blocked it, and the impact made my arms tremble.

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

Trying to push back, I launched a series of quick slashes, hoping one might catch him off guard. But Grinwald moved with that same calm precision, stepping lightly and deflecting every strike like he had all the time in the world.

Those few minutes of fighting felt like an hour-long tap dance routine. The old warden wasn’t even breathing hard, but I was panting like a warthog.

And right there, in the middle of all that clumsy flailing, I realized something. I’m not just outmatched. I’m completely out of my depth.

I had to find an opening, anything to break through his defense. I faked left, then shifted quickly to the right, aiming for his ribs. But Grinwald read me like a book. He caught my blade with his and twisted it clean from my grip. It clattered to the ground, leaving me completely exposed.

“I surrender.” I raised my hands.

“You’re too predictable, Alex,” Grinwald said, not holding back. “You lean too much on your speed and agility. That will not always save you in a real fight. Still, on the bright side, you have nailed the basics of swordsmanship.”

“Is that something I can brag about at the academy?” I asked, forcing a smile.

Grinwald laughed. “Mastering the basics is a solid start. Just remember, there is always more to learn.”

I shook my head and let out a chuckle. “Point taken.”

After thanking Grinwald for the spar, I started toward the main gate. My arms were still a little shaky, but my pride had taken the real beating.

A shadow crossed my shoulder as I walked through an archway, making me glance back. I searched for the source but found nothing, just the shadow of a nearby building cast by the sun. On instinct, I looked down, ready for anything that might lunge from below.

By “anything,” I meant the feline creatures that roamed the estate. Especially Nibbles, who had a habit of tailing me for no good reason.

Nothing. Just cobblestone tiles stretching toward the main gate.

Ah, yes. This was the spot where Grand-Uncle Logan had met his tragic end. He’d fallen off his horse and broken his neck right here. A sad tale, indeed, but I had no time to dwell. If I stalled any longer, I’d miss my shot at revenge. I turned on my heel and picked up the pace, crossing through the smaller inner courtyard of the estate.

The century-old fountain ahead was hard to miss. It had been commissioned by one of the Stormbournes to breathe life into the otherwise austere courtyard. It showed a man, sword in hand, caught mid-charge. Flower beds and small trees surrounded it, adding some much-needed color to the gray space.

An old gardener was tending to the plants nearby. I also spotted two other figures in the courtyard. Aiden, my eldest brother, and Lucian Stormbourne, Marquess of House Stormbourne. Also known as our dad.

My father was clean-shaven, his features sharp and chiseled. A firm jaw, high cheekbones, and a straight noble nose. His blue eyes ran deep, shaped by years on bloody battlefields. His hair was short, silver streaking his temples like war medals earned in time.

His name carried weight far beyond Valoria. People called him the “Tempest Blade,” the first magic swordsman in three hundred years to reach the Transcendent stage. That’s the highest level of swordsmanship, in case you’re wondering. His skill with a blade was the stuff of legend. In battle, he moved like a storm. Fast, unpredictable, and brutal. He’d led countless campaigns for the kingdom, stomping out threats, foreign and domestic. I’d wager he’d never have to pay for a drink anywhere in the world.

Ahh, if only I could switch places with him. I’d be lounging with barmaids on my lap, golden ale pouring straight into my gaping mouth. Imagine minstrels singing tales of my epic brawls with the Beverage Wardens, those pesky buzzkills assigned to keep underage drinkers from getting their sweet, boozy fix in public. Now that’s how you go down in history.

My glorious daydream came to a screeching halt the moment my father’s eyes locked onto mine. I hurriedly looked away, muttering a silent prayer. “Please don’t let him see me—”

“Alexander.”

Even from that distance, his voice cracked across the courtyard like thunder.

I spun around and jogged over. Once I reached him, I came to a stop and bowed. “Yes, Pop… er, I mean Dad… wait, I mean Sir.” I shut my mouth fast, regretting every word choice in that sentence.

“Where are you off to?” His gaze pinned me like a bug under glass.

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

“Good,” he said with a nod. “I want you to continue your training until the day before you leave for the academy.”

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

“Good,” he said again, still eyeing me like a hawk. “I’m hosting a farewell gathering for the family this evening. I expect you to be there.”

“Huh? What farewell gathering?” I asked, totally confused.

His expression tightened. Definitely not impressed by my cluelessness.

Thankfully, Aiden stepped in like the big brother he was. For real, this is exactly what an older sibling should do.

“I’m sorry, sir, it’s my fault. I forgot to tell Alex about your trip.” He turned to me and added, “The king summoned all the high nobles to Tuvia. Our parents are heading to the capital tonight, along with Alice.”

Bless you, Aiden. I wanted to thank him right then and there for dragging me out of this awkward mess. He probably had mentioned it to me before, but I must’ve forgotten. Most likely because I was drunk at the time.

A fact about me. If you’ve got something important to tell me, better do it before seven in the evening.

I shifted my attention toward my father and nodded, letting him know I understood. But inside, I winced. I already knew I’d have to plaster on my best smile for tonight’s family gathering.

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

“Understood, sir,” I said with a quick nod.

The silence that followed dragged on just long enough to make things weird. I jumped at the chance to excuse myself. “May I be excused now, sir?”

“Very well, you may go,” my father replied with a nod.

“Thank you, sir.” I turned on my heel and jogged away, keeping the same pace I’d used when I first approached them. Once I was far enough, I slowed to a casual walk.

I pushed the whole awkward exchange with my father and Aiden out of my mind. There was still the matter of tracking down the old man and delivering a one-sided beating.

But I was still inside the estate when a voice called out from behind me.

“Alex, where are you off to?”

Why does this question keep following me around like a stray cat?

Turning to the voice, I saw my mom walking up with one of her handmaidens. Both were carrying baskets full of apples.

“I’m going to town for a while, Mom. Some old man gave me something last night, and now I’m returning the favor.” Yep, and that favor was gonna be a solid punch to the jaw.

“On foot?” She gave a glance in the direction I was headed, which clearly wasn’t toward the stables.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

Another fact about me, it’s not like I don’t know how to ride a horse. It’s just that my butt always ends up sore after even a short ride.

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

That’s my mom, always in tune with what I’m thinking before I even say anything.

I stepped forward, and she gently pulled my head down with one hand, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

We stood in silence for a beat. Then she suddenly blurted, “Alex! Did you drink last night? I can still smell the ale.” She gave me a light shove and wrinkled her nose like something had died.

That’s my mom again. Her nose works like a bloodhound’s.

“But I brushed my teeth three times,” I protested. That was a lie. I only brushed once. I brought my sleeve up to my face for a quick sniff, even though I’d already changed clothes. “Are you sure it’s not my shirt?”

Sometimes I wonder, do regular drinkers give off some kind of booze aura even when they’re not drinking?

“No, the smell’s coming from your mouth. And don’t let your father catch you,” she warned, eyes narrowing with that classic mom look.

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

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

“I’m hurt, Mom!” I squinted at her with a fake pout. “What makes you think I won’t be back to see you off later?”

“Yeah, right,” she said, and both she and the servant giggled at my attempt to be charming. “Bye, dear,” she added.

I shook my head, smiling at her reaction. “Okay, bye Mom.” I gave a quick wave and trotted off toward the main gate.