Years went by in a similar manner. Ahrden learned and absorbed every bit of knowledge he could get his hands on, while he practiced from dawn till nightfall honing his skills like his life depended on it. He bettered himself in every way, while simultaneously coping with all the hardships that he had to endure. He had no reference, no others to whom he could measure himself, but that did not bother him; he knew that the day would come when all of his skills would be put to use. He was right about that; he just didn't expect it to come so soon.
It was in the afternoon when Ahrden arrived home from the library. His father was in a bad mood due to some unusual sightings of Velintenal soldiers. Nothing was publicly announced yet, and Ahrden was surely not let in on the latest developments, but rumours spread about a possible invasion of their capital. The promising students of the older years who were already exceptionally skilled in their classes took extra trainings to further prepare them for a possible attack.
William had been under a lot of pressure, because this was the first real threat he faced as a general, and both Rose and Ahrden had felt it lately. On this particular day, Ahrden had gone to the library at dawn and spent the entire day there. When he came home, he wasn't sure what to expect, but the situation was worse than ever.
When Ahrden entered the house, he saw his mother, who had just begun helping his husband take off his armour in the living room, but when they saw him, they both stopped, and William barked at his son.
'Look who just came back! The mage who'll save us all! Did you have fun reading books in the safe cover of the bookshelves? Did you? I sure hope you did because the rest of us are preparing to risk our lives in the coming conflict to save our nation and the ones who can't defend themselves: the women, the children and of course my son Ahrden.'
'I can fight when...'
'I'll lock you up with the women and the children in case of an attack because if I couldn't make a man out of you, I'll at least stop you from killing yourself.'
'You can't lock me up…' Ahrden said in a quiet voice but stopped when his father started towards him.
'What do you mean I can't? What can you do about it? A decent warrior at your age would at least have the guts to challenge his father when his honour is in question.'
'Let's duel then. Father,' Ahrden said, and he walked around his father and headed out into the garden.
'What do you mean you...' his father started, but Ahrden just kept on walking. 'Face me when I'm talking to you boy!' William shouted, but Ahrden was already outside by then.
He walked to the end of the garden, where he turned around and waited for his father to follow him. He didn't have to wait long for his father to emerge in the back door with his sword Duskedge in one hand and his helm in the other.
'If you really want to duel me boy, let's fight. At least I'll fix your delusion about being able to fight, and you'll be lying in the hospital long enough that all the nations will have plenty of time to attack us before you can even walk again.'
Ahrden would have cared about what his father was saying, but his attention was drawn to Duskedge. Before the Choosing, his father talked a lot about it but never actually showed it to him, and after the ceremony, it was as good as gone from his life. Now he was able to look at it for the first time, and it was marvellous. He had seen the hilt many times before, but it was the blade that caught his attention. All the way from the handle till the middle of it, deeply etched runes ran along it that radiated potent power. Ahrden remembered the stories his father told him about it, like how it never dulled, but he always thought that they were exaggerations. Now that he was able to look at it and examine the runes on them, some of which he had actually learnt about, he was baffled at how powerfully enhanced the blade that his father wielded was. Ahrden could feel the presence of arcane in the sword, and he even felt it calling him.
'Choose your weapon and stop wasting my time!' his father shouted, which pushed Ahrden out of his trance, back to focusing on him.
'I'm a mage, remember? I don't need a weapon.'
'That's right, how could I ever forget that.'
Rose was standing by the door and watching the events unfold with growing worry in her eyes. Ahrden's father tossed the helm on the ground, grabbed Duskedge with both hands and charged. Ahrden was curious about how serious his father was taking the duel, so he decided to test it right at the beginning. He shifted into a duelling mage stance and remained motionless while he gathered the arcane forces to him and prepared his spells.
His father raised his sword above his head, and when he was within striking distance, he brought it down on Ahrden. The blade wouldn't have hit him in the head, but it would have dug into his shoulder if not make him lose the entire arm. Ahrden got what he wanted, and he didn't know how to feel about it.
Ahrden could feel the runed sword much better the closer it got, and he easily pushed it further away from him with a slight movement of his wrist. When Duskedge missed Ahrden, he could see the surprise on his father's face. He had not witness Ahrden do magic before, so everything unnatural came as a shock to him. He knew where he aimed, and he saw that Ahrden didn't move, yet his blade had not gone where he intended it to go.
William quickly recovered and brought the sword around in a sweeping motion, but Ahrden expected him to do that, and he ducked under the strike. He saw his father kick out towards him, but he had enough time to teleport to the other side of the garden.
The experienced warrior's instincts told him where he was, so he whirled around to face him, but he could not comprehend how this came to happen. He was about to charge again when Ahrden cast the spell that would bring Duskedge to him. The sword flew up at eye level, pointing towards Ahrden, but William could hold onto its hilt. Instead of charging, now he put all of his effort into trying to prevent his weapon from escaping his grasp and to his credit, he was able to hold onto it. Ahrden strained from the effort he put in the spell, but he could not tear the sword from his father's grasp. When he let up, both of them caught their breath for a moment.
Ahrden reached out with his power and felt the thick roots and wines that lived under their garden. He said the incantation out loud, which made them bend to his will. In the next second, roots shot up from the ground and seized his father's ankles and right hand that had the sword in it. He reacted instantly to the threat he had never seen before and tried to tear himself free from the bonds. When he saw that he couldn't, he tossed the sword to his other hand and, in seconds, cut off all the roots that held him. This gave Ahrden the idea and, with renewed strength, brought up more vines that seized hold of him. This time he aimed them towards his left hand, but none could reach it before being cut in half.
Ahrden let up with the spell and saw that his father was already running towards him. He immediately cast his next spell and started forming a dense ball of arcane power, which he would launch at his father when he came close enough. William saw what was happening, and although he didn't know what it meant, he knew that he had to interrupt what his son was doing. Reaching down for his smaller knife, he threw it at Ahrden while he was still far away from him. Ahrden saw it and had to stop the entire spell to stop the blade. He could have just pushed it off course, but he was afraid that it might hit his mother behind him.
In the next instant, his father was already in front of him and brought the sword down on him, this time aiming for his head. Ahrden held up his hands and, with the help of the runes on the blade, stopped it just shy from his face. William was again confused about what had caused his sword to stop, but he quickly yanked his sword free from whatever held it and struck again. Ahrden moved his open palms to where the blade was aimed towards and blocked the attack and the one that came after that.
After a few more attacks, his father stepped back and prepared for another strike, but one that would hopefully overpower whatever had been blocking his strikes so far. Ahrden used this time to erect a dome around himself and closed his eyes to cast his next spell. He knew that the sword was infused with magic, but no arcane power was channelled into it, so he suspected that the shield would hold without him further feeding it. When William brought down the sword, it hit the invisible shield, which flared up brightly as it repelled Duskedge backwards with great force. This sent William helplessly stagging back, allowing Ahrden to hit him in the chest with the arcane missile he had been conjuring. This, too, wasn't enough to knock the warrior off his feet, but it weakened his grasp enough that when Ahrden called the sword to him again, it caught him off guard just enough so that he could not keep his hold on it.
When Ahrden closed his fingers around the hilt, he felt a union he had never felt before. Duskedge was the crown jewel of their long line of warrior family, yet it felt so right in Ahrden's hands that he could not believe that it was crafted for a warrior. Arcane power seeped down from his hands into the hilt then into the blade. The runes lit up one by one in a bright blue colour then the blade itself started to shine. The weapon hummed as Ahrden moved it around, unable to believe how light it felt in his hand. He moved it with ease as if it guided itself, knowing what Ahrden wanted. A great number warrior masters wielded this sword before him, but Ahrden was the first who was able to tap into the knowledge of the blade rather than to force his own on it. He felt powerful before, but now he was unbeatable.
Ahrden directed his other hand towards the wooden shack they had in the garden. He murmured the spell that tore off its wooden door and tossed it to the side like it was nothing. In it lay all the weapons his father had. In the middle stood a wooden stand and from it hung all of William's primary weapons, namely; a mace, a pair of short swords, a long sword, a polearm and a whip. Ahrden wrapped his power around the stand and threw it next to where his father stood. The wooden frame broke to pieces with all the weapons falling on the ground, yet his father could still not will himself to move.
'Choose your weapon and stop wasting my time!' Ahrden spoke firm and with authority in his voice.
William looked at his son with mixed emotions, but before any one could crystalize into something final, his warrior instincts kicked in and snapped his head back into the duel. He walked over to where his precious weapons lay scattered on the grass and picked them up one by one. He took each into his hands; weighing them and examining them as if to check if all the throwing damaged them or not. Then he thrust each weapon into the ground with their hilt pointing upwards. All except the whip and the mace which he just placed on the ground.
Once he was done, he took a few steps back and looked at his work with his back towards Ahrden who did nothing while all of this was going on. William looked back over his shoulder at his son as if to weigh him up, thinking about what the best weapon would be against him. He then turned back towards the row of weapons and headed for the short swords which upon closer examination looked more like daggers to Ahrden. He picked them up and faced his son.
Ahrden would have preferred if he chose any of the other ones as the first weapon, but there was nothing he could do now. The daggers were definitely longer than a rogue's blade, but still shorter than a standard sword such as Duskedge. His father was notorious for his speedy martial style, and these weapons only enabled him to showcase it even more. Ahrden understood that one cut from those blades would be enough for him to be unable to continue, so he couldn't afford a single mistake.
When Ahrden saw that his father didn't move, he started walking towards him, and when he neared him, William began towards him too. It was scary to meet his father head-on at what he was best at, but Ahrden had Duskedge, which soon proved to be an invaluable asset. Ahrden could have chosen the mage way to fight this duel; he could have kept his distance at all times, he could have used ranged spells and ended the fight before his father could even touch him. But that was not the point. Ahrden wanted to make a statement here. He spent all of his time buried in books, yet he wanted to prove to his father that despite all that, he could beat him even at his own game. Before learning about the true nature of Duskedge, there wasn't a feasible way to do this, but now the tables have turned. Now he fully intended to see his plan through.
Their blades met in a deafening collision that reverberated so hard it made Rose step back from where she stood. Ahrden was lean, athletic and tough due to his father's rigorous trainings, but he was not built or trained to be a warrior. His arms were not adequate to withstand such a collision, yet he held on, and he held on with ease. All the arcane power surging through him gave his body unnatural strength and resistance, which was further enhanced by the magical properties of Duskedge. The combination of these two enabled him to hold his ground against the best there was. His father.
William broke the contact first after, to his biggest bewilderment, he couldn't overpower his son. He then went into a furious dance of precise, powerful and deadly attacks. William had years and years of training, mixed with plenty of real-life experience on his side, yet he could not get through Ahrden's defences. What Ahrden had was none other than Duskedge, which had infinitely more years of training and experience imbued into its very fabrics, and Ahrden's magic was able to unlock it. Ahrden was the means through which the blade could act and act it did. It knew everything William was doing and was planning on doing, and thus it could block and counter all of his attacks. All the techniques, all the moves and strikes that William knew were used and taught by those who wielded Duskedge. Through the runes this knowledge was locked inside the mystical weapon waiting to be released.
It took William some time to realize that he wasn't able to defeat his son by merely outfighting him because he simply couldn't for reasons he didn't understand. It didn't stop him though from unleashing a series of expertly executed attacks that Ahrden either blocked, evaded or countered with techniques William knew was distinctly unique to their family. William couldn't keep up with the speed with which Ahrden was moving and lost his balance on the last strike, which caused him to step back. This he extended with a few more paces, putting some distance between the two of them. When he did, he charged at Ahrden and leapt from afar with both blades raised high above his head.
Ahrden lifted Duskedge to block the incoming attack, but this time instead of letting the blade guide him, he focused and channelled even more arcane power into the blade. The blue hue strengthened around the metal, and it started humming louder. Ahrden turned the blade towards his incoming father and prepared for what came next.
When his father brought the short swords down, Duskedge cut through them like they were made of some cheap metal. This unprecedented event took William by surprise, who tumbled forward without the anticipated counterforce from Duskedge. Ahrden was expecting this and got out of William's way by turning sideways to evade him as his father came down and Ahrden continued in a walk until he reached the prepared weapons.
Without looking behind him, Ahrden walked up to the polearm and pulled it out from the ground. He then turned around and saw his father throwing the two hilts, that remained from the short swords, onto the ground some distance away, already facing him. Ahrden lifted the polearm and threw it at him as hard as he could, aiming at his father's body. William charged before the weapon even reached him. He expertly caught the incoming weapon, and in the next second, Ahrden was already busy evading his attacks.
Ahrden quickly learnt that this wasn't a favourable matchup for him either. The long reach of the polearm and his father's skilled manoeuvring prevented him from doing anything but defend. Neither of them tired, and his father kept on attacking until Ahrden devised a plan to stop the one-sided onslaught, knowing that this could only lead to him making a mistake, which would instantly end the duel.
William thrust the spear towards Ahrden's head, which he battered aside with Duskedge, then he did the same with the subsequent two attacks. After that, he too swung the sword in an arch just to break the fluent dance of his father. As he did, he immediately jumped backwards, putting some distance between them, then with ease, Ahrden threw Duskedge up into the air.
His father was clearly perplexed by the move and looked up to check if it was going to come down on him or not. Ahrden waited and kept his arcane grasp on the sword as it spun in the air. When William saw it was safe to engage, he skipped ahead and thrust the weapon towards Ahrden's face; who, was waiting for it and with a swift motion, got both his palms up and placed it around the blade but far away from it. He let out a vast amount of arcane energy from his palms in the form of a swirling blue mist which filled the space between his hands and trapped the polearm as it tried to dig through it. The tip of the blade stopped just shy from Ahrden's face, but once it stopped, it was firmly planted in the arcane grasp.
As confused as William was, he just kept on yanking the handle of the polearm, trying to get it free. If anything, this served to make the master warrior completely forget about Duskedge, which by now was on its way down. Ahrden didn't look up because he could feel the sword coming down, and while he kept his hold on the polearm, he directed Duskedge above the polearm's handle.
When Duskedge came down, it cut through the polearm like it was nothing. The sword sank deep into the ground, while William staggered backwards from the sudden loss of resistance but kept his footing. Discarding the broken weapon, William charged towards Duskedge. Ahrden waited for him to get closer, and just before he could reach the handle, Ahrden released the energies he had gathered. The spell hit his father square in his chest and sent him flying backwards. Upon contact with the ground, he started sliding all the way to the stairs that lead to the back door of the house. Rose stood over him with worry in her eyes, but the warrior paid no mind to his wife. The well-known rage overtook William's logical thinking, and as he jumped to his feet, he was about to charge at Ahrden unarmed, but he didn't have to do that. When he got up, he felt and heard the loud collision as the mace crushed into the ground next to him.
William didn't even flinch, let alone look at the weapon. He kept his eyes on Ahrden even as he reached down and lifted the heavy weapon with ease. He always considered the mace to be a guilty pleasure of his, a weapon which wasn't particularly useful on the battlefield, but he just loved using it. When he charged towards his son, this pleasure showed on his face, which Ahrden could see, and it filled him with some worry.
No matter how much power Ahrden channelled into Duskedge and no matter how much he had strengthened himself, his sword was battered away each time it collided with the mace. He could not effectively block a single blow from his father and from the first moment he was on a retreat. It took some time for his father to swing the weapon each time, but so did for Ahrden to get the sword up in time before the next blow. With constantly losing ground soon, they had passed the point where the remaining weapons were planted into the ground, and Ahrden felt the other side of the garden near. He decided that this could not go on.
After he directed another blow away from him, Ahrden started casting a shield around himself instead of readying his sword again. His father noticed it yet paid no mind to it as he brought down the spiked metal head of the weapon right over Ahrden's head. The blue shield flared up brightly and sizzled as the weapon's spikes penetrated the shield, but the remainder of the weapon was stopped by it. Ahrden could feel the heat from the spikes inside his shield as they glowed white from the resistance of the arcane energies at play.
William brought the weapon back and attacked again and again, battering at the shield as he would on an actual battlefield. The first few attacks were the hardest to withstand for Ahrden, but afterwards he could strengthen the shield enough to make it hold for short while against whatever non-magical strike came without him needing to actively channel more arcane into it. After he felt safe inside, he sunk Duskedge into the ground and started casting an arcane ball of energy between his palms. His father noticed it but could do nothing against it as he was occupied with tearing down something that operated on different rules than he or his mace and, for that reason, stood above him and his weapon.
After a hefty blow, Ahrden took the shield down and shot his father in the chest, sending him flying again. William crashed into the ground with a loud grunt but rolled to his feet in the next instant. He was used to leading armies, not being tossed around like a trainee, yet he could handle this better than any other. Midway standing up, he picked up the whip which lay right next to him and instantly brought it around his head, readying it for his next attack.
With this one weapon, Ahrden felt he cheated. When he first saw the whip, he knew that that was the one weapon that could easily get through his defences. Against that, he only had the shield, which he could obviously use, but he thought of something better. Before he had thrown the polearm towards his father, he cast a small enchant on the tip of the whip so that he could easily locate it no matter how fast it travelled. This enabled him to stand there confidently as he waited for the attack.
When it did come, the speed astounded him. He'd have had no chance of stopping or even locating the spike filled leather strap without the enchant, and even with that, he was barely able to get a hold on it. With both hands extended forward, he stopped the metal tip of the whip just as it was about to hit him on his forehead. After a second of pause, he said the spell out loud, and the entire whip, save the handle, burst into flames and was reduced to ash in a matter of seconds.
William threw the handle away with pleasure. This was no weapon of a real warrior, and he only chose it to get it out of the way. Now that there was only one, he walked next to it and closed his fingers around the broad, two-handed longsword. Ahrden did the same with Duskedge.
For the first time ever, father and son acted in perfect unison. They both pulled the blades free from the ground and looked each other in the eye. Ahrden couldn't read him; no matter how successfully he had in the past, he couldn't do it at that moment.
When they charged at each other they did so simultaneously.
William cried out in his fiercest battle cry he could muster, while Ahrden made his first battle cry ever, which felt more natural than anything else. They both leapt while bringing their swords up and over their heads, and neared each other in this deadly manner. When they collided, it was a spectacle to behold.
William was stronger than his age would suggest, but Ahrden was faster with his smaller weapon that felt like an extension of himself. For the first time, he was in full offence. Ahrden slashed, thrust and cut with Duskedge guiding his every move that each move belonged to one of his ancestors. The blade shone brightly as it kept on battering the wide and heavy blade his father was wielding. Through arcane; Ahrden put so much power into his attacks, while further enhancing Duskedge, that it chipped away small pieces of the long sword. That sword that William wielded, was also of the highest quality, but it stood no chance against what Ahrden possessed, especially with all the arcane that was flowing through it. William could do nothing but defend against the attacks his son was throwing at him. He saw how the metal pieces were flying everywhere after each attack, and it was something he had never seen before. His powerful arms started to grow weary, and he could not understand how his son was able to keep on attacking, especially the way he did. Throughout his life, the general had been in duels where he met his equal or were even outmatched, but now he couldn't even keep up with the pace at which the attacks were coming.
Blue flames were glowing in Ahrden's eyes, and he could not be stopped. The two-handed long sword got so damaged that it almost resembled a saw now rather than a blade which further fuelled Ahrden knowing that it couldn't withstand much more. In his last few attacks, Ahrden could not contain the energies inside him and he screamed, letting out the excess pressure while giving more power to each of his blows. The metal fragments that were flying everywhere increased in size as the onslaught continued and William questioned if he could keep blocking much longer what came his way.
Ahrden had Duskedge above his head and brought it down on the defensively positioned longsword, which painfully clung under the attack. Ahrden brought the sword back up and attacked again. He kept on repeating this, putting more and more momentum in each of the swings knowing that any one could break the longsword in two.
Duskedge was above his head again, and what felt like the last time he brought it down on his father. Instead of blocking it, William twisted the longsword and directed his son's attack sideways. This made Ahrden lose his balance when the momentum brought him after the sword, but he recovered quickly, and with the Duskedge already high up, he turned to face and slash at his father again. However, he could not turn all the way because the armour-clad fist of his father came crashing into the side of his head, and he blacked out in that instance.
--
When Ahrden woke up, he immediately knew that something was off. He lay in a bed he didn't recognize. When he opened his eyes at first, he could not place where he was at all. The bed itself was in a vast room, which looked more like the inside of a cave than a building. His body felt recharged, yet oddly weak, while he couldn't even feel where his father had hit him, although that one punch was enough to knock him out of that arcane-charged state immediately. He felt a weird taste in his mouth, one that he had never felt before and as such could not place.
He felt multiple things wrong with his situation and had absolutely no idea what the explanation behind it could be. When he sat up, he felt even stranger; his muscles moved as if they haven't been in use for a long time now. Felinda was immediately by his side, and when he looked at her, his heart started beating incredibly fast.
'No,' was all Ahrden could say.
His vision became fuzzy as he turned his head to examine where exactly he was. His biggest fear came true upon realizing that he was in the public shelter of Belentedor, where the women and children went when the city came under attack.
His nation was attacked.
The very capital of the Polenteus nation was besieged.
By now the space was almost empty, with only a few people left carrying crates out of there. Felinda and Ahrden were the only ones this far into the cavern, with only him lying in a bed. Ahrden turned towards his nightstand and saw an entire cluster of flasks, all empty and without using his arcane senses; he could tell that they once contained that odd-tasting substance which was in his mouth.
Ahrden's chest was rising and falling violently; his breathing was becoming laboured.
Ahrden knew that it wasn't her decision, yet he still felt more betrayed than ever.
'How could you?'
The old woman was on the brink of crying.
'My parents?'
She could not hold it in any longer. She burst into tears like she was never going to stop crying. She could not bear the look Ahrden gave him. She got up and ran away, crying loudly with everyone still present at the entrance watching her as she ran out.
Ahrden remained sitting on his bed, feeling the pressure rise within him.
His mother was dead.
The bed closest to him suddenly broke in half. Ahrden didn't even notice the loud crack, which reverberated through the closed space, as his feelings manifested into actual arcane might.
His father was dead.
Beds started snapping in half starting from where Ahrden was, and it spread ever further from him. The people still there ran at the first sight of what was happening.
His mother was dead.
One after the other, the flask on the nightstand exploded, showering its glass shards everywhere.
His father was dead.
The very walls of the cavern started shaking; cracks appeared and ran along it while smaller bits and pieces were falling from it.
He had no parents left.
When he materialized, he was between two coffins. He was in the city's graveyard with people digging holes and others lowering the coffins in them. In the back, a large crowd stood, with almost every member crying. The caskets he saw were more than he could count, and a lot already must have been underground.
Ahrden placed his hands on the coffins and felt what he wished never to feel in his life. He began crying, and in the same instant, the rain started falling. He cried, and he did not move. The workers didn't dare to approach him even after all the other coffins were already underground.
When Ahrden calmed down, it was pitch black, and the rain was still falling. Only a few people remained in the graveyard. He carefully placed the coffins into the hole that was already dug his parents and buried them with the piles of earth that stood next to each. He used magic naturally, he didn't think about it, he just did what he believed would ease his pain.
Ahrden stood up. He swore never to fail again at saving those he loved.
The promise felt late and thus useless. He didn't love any besides those he just lowered into the ground, save maybe Felinda. Making such promise felt little more than trying to rationalize his failure. Yet me made that promise not wanting to think about what he would do when the time came, and he actually failed again in a similar way.
From the graveyard he walked to the empty house he once called home.