Grinwald used to say to me, “In battle, your mind must be a fortress, your body a blade. Both sharp, both unbending.”

Can you imagine walking into a scene straight out of a nightmare? Corpses everywhere, enough to make anyone sick to their stomach. The stench of blood and death was thick in the air, almost choking me.

And these weren’t just any bodies. These were people I knew. People I’d shared meals with, laughed with, and trusted. Some of them were family, others had been loyal servants who took care of us, and the guards who had sworn to protect our family. Every one of them was reduced to nothing more than lifeless, broken forms sprawled across the ground.

It was a sight so terrible it made my breath hitch in my throat, and I could feel the sadness clawing at my chest, making it hard to breathe.

How could this have happened? How could anyone have done this to them?

I glanced upward at the top of the stairs that led to the grand mansion door. That was when I saw him.

My first opponent.

A lone Silverlion, the worst of the worst, just casually yanking a bloodied sword from the body of someone lying on the ground.

The body was so mangled that I couldn’t immediately tell who it was, but the fear in me screamed that it could have been someone I held dear.

For a second, I thought it was my brother, Alistair, who had just been killed in cold blood.

“Alistair!” I cried out, dashing forward without thinking, my legs carrying me faster than my mind could process. But I skidded to an abrupt halt when I saw the Silverlion descending the stone staircase, the blood-soaked sword still gripped in his hand.

His face was a grotesque mask of death, smeared with blood, and his expression was pure malice. His eyes had lost any trace of humanity, like they were hollow, dead. The man wasn’t just a killer, he was a monster. He moved with a strange, unnatural slowness, his body a little hunched, dragging himself forward with each step.

His right arm was sluggish, but his grip on the sword was firm, as if the weapon was the only thing keeping him standing.

Rage surged within me, a searing heat spreading from my chest to the tips of my fingers. This man had just taken my brother’s life, or so I thought. And now he was coming for me.

By the way he carried himself, I could tell the Silverlion wasn’t a magic swordsman, though I wasn’t about to underestimate him. I would soon find out the full extent of his abilities. I prayed it wouldn’t be with his blade buried in my heart. This fight was surely going to be one to the death.

“Another one, ready to die,” he taunted. “I guess it’s my lucky night. I get to kill another stubborn Stormbourne.” A maniacal laugh escaped his lips.

I snapped into battle mode. “Come on then, you Lysander dog! Let’s dance. You will soon find out what a true Stormbourne is made of.”

“A kid like you?” he mocked, laughing. “You’ll never defeat me.”

I gritted my teeth. Laugh all you want, bastard. Just wait. Even when I’m battered and bloody, I’ll keep coming at you.

On that chilly night, with the moon as my witness and the stars promising greatness, my onerous journey to becoming transcendent began.

I stood face to face with a killer. He was motivated to kill, while I was determined to defend my family’s honor and avenge my brother’s death.

We clashed. I knew instantly the Silverlion wasn’t at his full strength. He had an internal injury somewhere. His movements slowed, but his strength and experience were leagues beyond mine. Our swords met with a deafening clang, and every strike sent shocks through my arms.

Flashes of my training with Grinwald came to mind. “Use your opponent’s strength against them,” he had taught me. “Stay light on your feet, and never let them see your fear.”

Easier said than done when a madman with a blade is trying to hack you to pieces.

My opponent’s blows kept coming like relentless waves, but I stood firm, like a cliff by the ocean. Although there were times I fell to the ground, escaping death each time, I rose to my feet to meet his blade again and again.

I can almost hear Grinwald’s voice in my head, guiding me through each move. “Stay calm, Alex. Use his anger against him.”

I did my best to follow his advice, using my opponent’s sluggishness to my advantage. I struck when he was off balance and dodged when he overstretched.

Then came one particular clash. His sword arced down with a force that sent me sprawling. The impact jarred every bone in my body. As I rolled to avoid his follow-up strike, I could see the frustration in his eyes. He was used to overpowering his opponents quickly, but I wasn’t giving in that easily.

I got back on my feet, feeling the burn in my muscles and the taste of blood in my mouth. Every time our blades met, it felt like my hands were about to give out.

The battle resumed like a never-ending squall. Neither of us gave up. It was brutal and exhausting. My breaths were ragged, each one a struggle. There was a moment when he almost got me, his sword slicing a thin line across my cheek. The sting of the cut brought me back to my senses. I had to stay focused. This wasn’t just about me. It was about everyone I cared about.

Then I saw it. An opening.

I guess I’ll get to live another day. Or maybe another hour.

My shout of “This is for my brother!” rang out as I rushed forward and thrust my blade into the Silverlion’s chest, feeling the resistance as it pierced through his flesh.

The two of us stood there, staring at each other. He was impaled by my blade while I refused to pull it out, letting his life drain away. With his eyes wide in shock, he let out a last gasp of air before collapsing to the ground.

I panted for breath. A strange mix of horror and grim satisfaction coursed through me. I had killed a man for the first time in my life. It felt surreal, like I was outside my body watching it happen. But I knew one thing for certain; I would have to do it again if I was going to save my family.

Enough rest.

I needed to check on the body the Silverlion had slain earlier, ready to face the grief of losing Alistair.

But as I got closer, I stopped short. It wasn’t Alistair. It was another Stormbourne with an unmistakable round belly.

How the hell did I mistake my skinny brother for a fat dude?

I left Uncle Ned’s body without checking his pulse and pushed through the shattered doors of the mansion. They hung tattered and wide open, like the gates of hell inviting me to enter. Inside, I knew the battle was far from over. I had to find Aeryn and Alistair.

When I stepped into the lobby, I had no inkling what I was in for. The place, once grand and magnificent, had turned into a raging inferno. Flames were everywhere, licking up the curtains and walls like they had a personal vendetta.

The paintings of my ancestors, those stern, disapproving faces, were melting away right before my eyes. It was creepy, just like in my dream. Their eyes seemed to follow me, as if they were saying, “As usual, you’re bloody late again, you cursed Stormbourne,” before they disappeared into the fire.

Smoke filled the air, making it hard to see and even harder to breathe. I coughed, trying to clear my lungs as I took in the devastation around me. Bodies were scattered across the marble floor like crumpled rags.

Some were Silverlion soldiers, others were our guards, and a few were just unfortunate servants caught in the crossfire. My heart felt like it was being crushed as I noticed my Uncle Sam and his wife among the fallen.

I rushed over to them, but it was too late. They were gone. I closed their eyes and whispered a quiet sendoff.

In moments like these, you realize how fragile life really is. One minute, you’re having dinner with your family, and the next, you’re closing their eyes for the last time.

I resumed my search, hoping against hope that Aeryn and Alistair weren’t among the dead. The lobby was just the beginning. I moved through room after room, darting through the corridors. Fear and desperation riveted my heart. I even checked the kitchen, only to find more bodies. Not a single soul was left alive.

My quest finally ended in a smaller dining room of the mansion.

There, lying close to each other on the floor, were Aeryn and Alistair.

I ran to them and knelt down. Aeryn’s breathing was faint, but Alistair was completely still, a sword lying by his side. I placed my fingers on his neck, hoping to find a pulse, but there was nothing. I was devastated. My brother was dead.

I turned to Aeryn, cradling her head in my lap. Her eyes fluttered open, and she managed a weak smile when she saw me.

“Alex, you’re alive,” she whispered.

“Aeryn, hold on,” I tried to keep my voice steady. “I’m here.”

She coughed, her body shuddering with the effort. “Alistair tried to protect me. He was so brave.”

Tears blurred my vision. “I’m so sorry, Aeryn. I should have been here. I should have done something.”

Her hand weakly grasped mine. “Don’t blame yourself, Alex. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

We gazed at each other for a moment, our fingers clasped together, the sounds of battle and destruction around us fading into the background.

“Stay with me, Aeryn. Don’t leave,” I begged, but I could see the light fading from her eyes.

“I’m proud of you, little brother,” her voice now a whisper. “Keep fighting. For all of us.”

Those were her final words. Aeryn breathed her last breath and closed her eyes. I held her close, tears streaming down my face. I had lost both my siblings in a matter of moments. The pain was unbearable. My throat constricted, and a horrible ache threatened to consume me.

I gently placed Aeryn’s head back on the floor and stood up, wiping my tears away. I knew I had to keep moving. I had to find Aiden. He was on the roof, fighting for his life.

Just as I was about to leave, a sound at the entrance to the dining room caught my attention.

An injured Silverlion soldier staggered in, dragging his left leg. He leaned against the wall for support, a sick grin spreading across his face when his eyes met mine.

“Oh, there’s one more Stormbourne I get the pleasure of killing,” he sneered.

“Yeah, that’s what your buddy said earlier, and I drove a blade into his chest,” I shot back, a surge of confidence and strength rushing through me, unexpected but welcome.

Without a shred of hesitation, I charged forward, my sword raised high.

The Silverlion barely had time to react.

I jumped, bringing my blade down with both hands. He raised his sword to block, but my blow was too powerful. His weapon was knocked aside, and my sword struck deep into his shoulder. He stumbled backward, and I wasted no time, thrusting my blade into his chest.

Down he went, his eyes wide with shock. He couldn’t believe he’d been taken down by someone much younger than him.

“That’s for Aeryn and Alistair.” I felt the words like a burn in my chest. My anger slowly simmered down.

I glanced back at my brother and sister, offering a silent farewell before heading toward the stairway that led to the mansion roof. I knew exactly where it was. I’d been there countless times before. And I knew I had to keep fighting, no matter the cost.