A dream.
I am having a dream.
Dreaming of the good old times when my father used to take me for rides on horseback.
We would ride through the green valleys and along the steep cliffs overlooking the uncharted sea.
The sea roars far below us, boundless and blue. We'd talk and laugh so loudly as we rode.
The kind of father-son relationship most long for, but never get.
I too, once had such a bond with my father.
Once upon a time, at least.
Oh, how I yearn for those days, for even as I dream, I know this is nothing but a fantasy.
A fantasy of a time long past.
A time when I was still something in his eyes.
Now, I am nothing to him but a reminder of his own "shortcomings," as he likes to call them.
But that is a story for another day.
The dream fades as my mind stirs awake.
My consciousness returns, and the putrid smell of smoke and burning wood immediately assaults my nostrils, and my lungs burn.
Then comes the noise.
Shouts, screams, the clash of steel, the crack of magic ripping through stone. and grunts.
All mixing together into an incomprehensible rumble.
Somehow, I make out a few words.
"Fire!"
"Under attack!"
"Close the gate!"
"The city has been taken!"
I jolt upright, fully awake.
My eyes snap open to a haze of grey.
My room is filled with smoke.
I cough once, twice, then grab a piece of cloth to cover my nose before bolting out into the hallway.
Not even bothering to grab a tunic for my bare upper body.
"Young Master!"
"Kaitlin!" I call out to my loyal bond, who's already running toward me.
"Come, Young Lord! The Lord asked me to get you to safety!"
"What's going on, Kaitlin?!" I shout, but my voice drowns in the tide of panicked cries. Servants and guards rush past.
My eyes linger just long enough to see a dozen mages casting a wide-area water spell, trying to put out the massive fire tearing through the east wing of the castle.
"We're under attack! You must escape before they lay siege to the castle!"
"Who—?"
"It's the King's army! They're attacking!"
My eyes widen in horror. The cold feeling of dread seeps into my chest. The king's army, why?
"Let's go! A few wyverns are waiting outside in the keep!"
"But my mother and father—?"
"They're fighting on the front lines, my lord! They've been holding them off for the past twenty minutes!"
Twenty minutes.
We were attacked twenty minutes ago… and no one thought to wake me until now!?
Anger boils inside me. Was I truly that worthless in their eyes? So weak that even my presence was seen as a burden?
I close my eyes briefly, shutting out the chaos. Then a hysterical laugh escapes my lips.
A broken, hollow sound.
Kaitlin grabs my arm. "We have to go—"
She doesn't finish.
The walls and the air around us brighten suddenly — not gold-yellow like sunlight, but crimson, bathing the stone walls in blood-red light.
Then
bang!
A flaming sphere crashes into the wall beside us, shaking the entire corridor and throwing us both off our feet.
My head slams against the floor.
Pain explodes through my skull, and a high ringing floods my ears.
The world sounds far away, muffled.
When I finally open my eyes, I see two familiar figures leaning over me — or maybe just one.
"Young Lord! Wake up!"
My vision clears slowly.
I clutch my head and grimace, forcing myself to stand.
"We have to go, now!" Kaitlin yells, pulling at my hand. I can only follow her through the smoke-filled halls, coughing as the stench of burning wood and flesh lurches in my chest.
We finally reach the door to the stables.
Kaitlin stops, still gripping my wrist tightly — so tightly that pain shoots up my arm.
She turns to face me, holding my cheeks in her hands.
"Listen," she says, her voice trembling. "Your father and mother went into battle knowing this was a fight they couldn't win."
I freeze.
"Their goal — whatever it is — all I know, I was tasked with getting you to safety. We'll take two wyverns and fly north, toward the Beastmen's domain. Your sister is in the academy at the capital — she'll be taken as a prisoner, but she'll live. We'll regroup from there, I pro—"
Woosh!
A sharp hiss cuts through the air. And from the corner of my eye, I make out a blur of energy aimed at my head.
I could barely see it, let alone react to it.
Kaitlin moved first — vanishing in a blur of motion, appearing in front of me with mana coalescing in her palm.
She conjured a barrier, but—
Bam!
The projectile pierces straight through it, through her hand, through her chest — and out her back.
It doesn't stop there; the spear's momentum drives her body into mine, the tip catching my shoulder as we're both hurled into the wall.
"Ahhhh!!!"
Pain.
I felt a lot of pain.
It radiated from my shoulder, where the projectile had pierced, to every single cell in my body.
I scream in agony.
My shoulder is pierced clean through.
Kaitlin groans, struggling to pull the spear out of us both.
We hang limply against the wall until she finally yanks it free, and we collapse onto the floor.
Blood gushes from the gaping wound in my shoulder, pooling beneath me. I try to cover it with my hand, useless.
The wound is too wide, the pain too sharp for me to think straight.
Through my blurred vision, I see Kaitlin dragging herself up.
Wearily, with great difficulty, like it was taking every bit of strength she could muster not to fall back to the ground.
Then I see it.
Her chest is torn open, where her heart should be, there's only a hollow cavity, the blood vessels and flesh around it twitching faintly.
And yet, she's still trying to stand.
Gods, the sight was heart-breaking.
My stomach lurches.
I choke back bile and unshed tears well up in my eyes.
She spots me and stumbles forward, but her body is failing her. I force myself toward her — and meet her halfway as she collapses again.
"Are you all right, Young Lord?" she breathes weakly.
It doesn't take her long to find the hole in my shoulder, her hands trembling as she checks my wound.