The sky was unusually clear today. Bright blue, not a single cloud. A light summer breeze moved the leaves gently and carried the scent of flowers. The air was warm, but not heavy. Behind the massive mansion, which was too big to take in with just one look, the gardens stretched out. Stone paths, perfectly trimmed hedges shaped like animals, blooming trees in soft pastel colors. Everything looked peaceful. Like a painting. But today, that peace was just background.
In the deeper part of the garden, a bit past the fountain and between two paths, there was a training yard. Not too big, but perfectly flat. Surrounded by a low stone wall covered in ivy. A place made for practice, for sparring, for letting off steam. Cedric and his youngest brother, Evander, stood facing each other. Both were holding metal swords—real blades, sharp, but with an enchantment said to stop them from hurting on contact. At least, that's what people claimed. The enchantment worked… until it didn't.
Evander was breathing a little heavier. A few years younger, but you couldn't really tell at a glance. Softer features maybe, a bit less sharp around the eyes, but the same tall and lean build. Both wore plain clothes—linen shirts, loose pants. At first glance, they didn't look like fighting gear, but the fabric was special. Didn't restrict movement at all. Comfortable and functional.
Evander lifted his sword and pointed it toward the bench near the wall where Vivienne sat. Aiden, just two years old, was on her lap, eyes fixed on the sparring ring. He hadn't said a word in his life so far, not once. His gaze, though, was sharp—too sharp for his age.
"You still have time to back out, before you embarrass yourself in front of a child," Evander said with a grin.
Cedric looked at him calmly, almost like he felt sorry for him. He didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Silence was enough.
Evander didn't wait. He took a short breath and rushed forward. His figure blurred for a moment—like the wind had passed through that spot. To anyone who wasn't trained, it might've looked like he vanished.
But Cedric was ready. He braced his right leg, turned left, and raised his sword. The blades clashed with a sharp sound. The hit was strong, but brief. Metal struck metal, a spark flew and died instantly.
Cedric ducked low and swung at Evander's knees. Evander jumped sideways just in time, the blade cutting through the air right near his calf. If it were a real sword, he might be on the ground already.
"Close one," Evander muttered, spinning to strike from above. Cedric stepped back and blocked with one arm, using his shoulder to push him away.
This wasn't just a fight between two brothers. There was more under the surface. You could feel the tension. Like both of them were testing something more than just technique. Their movements were precise, but also… strange. Some of the swings felt guided by instinct—or something else entirely.
Cedric closed the distance and struck three times quickly. Evander blocked two, the third hit him in the ribs. He grunted but didn't step back. Instead, he tried to sweep Cedric's legs, but Cedric spun around and landed softly, barely making a sound. Their eyes met for a second. No smiles this time.
Vivienne watched in silence. Aiden clung to her hand, eyes wide, like he was seeing something nobody else could. Maybe he could see the flow of aether. Maybe he felt something beyond what others did. No one really knew what went on in his head. Aiden was born different. Always quiet, always still. No one knew why.
On the training ground, the pace was picking up. Cedric was faster now, but it didn't look like normal footwork. There was something about the way he moved, like dancing almost. Evander's strikes had changed too. They felt off. Like he was skipping steps, reacting to Cedric before he even moved.
Sometimes the blades didn't even touch, but both of them flinched like they did. Other times, they clashed so hard that dust rose off the stone floor. And now and then… there was something else. The air shimmered between them, just slightly. Like a ripple, a line you could barely see.
Cedric moved his hand in a strange way—one that had nothing to do with swordplay. Evander staggered, took a step back. Then another. He didn't fall, but he looked surprised.
"That wasn't fair," he growled through clenched teeth.
"Life isn't fair," Cedric said, then came at him again.
And this time, it wasn't even. Evander was good—fast, skilled—but Cedric started to control the fight. His strikes were weirdly smooth, like each limb moved separately but in sync. Evander tried to keep up, but it got harder every second.
Then Cedric jumped back, spun midair, and landed with his blade pointed right at Evander's throat. He froze. The tip of the sword hovered barely a finger away from his skin.
Silence. Just the sound of leaves rustling in the wind.
And then… a small voice.
"Wow," Aiden said.
One word. Simple, short. But it hit harder than the fight.
Both brothers turned their heads.
Vivienne covered her mouth with one hand. Her eyes glistened. She looked at her son, then at Cedric.
Aiden smiled, just a little. Like he understood something. Like he'd been waiting for this.
Cedric looked at him for a few seconds. And for the first time in a long while… he actually smiled.