Blades of Desire

Prince Keiran lay on the field, exhausted. His chest heaving as he caught his breath. Dawn had barely broken when he arrived, and now, hours later, he was utterly drained. Yet, he couldn't help but laugh, he was pleased with his progress.

It had been a month since the attack. A month since the female assassins, sent by Vesper, had attacked him and his brother. That encounter had shaken Keiran to his core. It wasn't just the near brush with death, it was the realization that he had been nothing more than a burden. Weak. Helpless. A liability. He had hidden behind Kaius, relying on his brother's skill to protect him. The memory of that helplessness gnawed at him, igniting a determination to ensure he would never feel so useless again.

Determined to change, Keiran had been training tirelessly, arriving at the training ground as early as possible. Alone, he honed his swordsmanship, perfecting strikes and practising forms. Occasionally, Kaius would join him, offering guidance and sharing techniques. His brother's experience was invaluable, showing him strategies to wield a blade with precision and effectiveness.

One such session had left a lasting impression on Keiran.

"Keiran," Kaius had said, his tone firm yet contemplative, "to wield a sword properly, to truly master it requires more than just skill. Do you know what it takes?"

Keiran, eager to prove his understanding, answered confidently, "To become the best, you must have an unyielding determination to make others bend to your will. To persevere even when the odds are against you."

Kaius had smiled, his approval evident, but he said nothing. Instead, he suddenly lunged, his sword aiming sharply for Keiran's hand. Startled, Keiran barely managed to raise his blade in defence. The force of the strike left him shaken, and although he deflected the blow, it wasn't clean. A shallow cut bloomed on his hand, stinging as he tightened his grip on the hilt.

"What was that for?" Keiran shouted, glaring at his brother as he inspected the wound.

Kaius had then asked, "Why did you shield yourself instead of letting the blow fall?"

"Because I need my hands, obviously! Why did you do that?" He asked again.

Kaius remained calm, his voice steady as he replied, "To wield a sword with mastery, Keiran, you must first learn to love yourself above all else. The instinct to protect your own life, your body, is what drives you to fight with everything you have. That cut? It's a lesson. The essence of war is survival, and the surest way to ensure your survival is to end your enemies before they end you. When you face an opponent, you have only two choices: kill or be killed."

The weight of Kaius's words had lingered in Keiran's mind ever since. Each time he lifted his sword, the truth of it resonated deeply. The drive to improve wasn't born out of hatred for his enemies but out of a fierce will to live, to thrive in a world where only the strong could survive.

Today, as he lay on the field, drenched in sweat, Keiran knew he was changing. Each session brought him closer to becoming the warrior he needed to be. He would no longer cower behind his brother. Instead, he would stand as an equal, capable, determined, and ready to face whatever came his way.

He was recently appointed as the chief commander of the royal army, a decision that marked a profound turning point in his life. Gone were the days of reckless behaviour and the constant string of disappointments he brought to his father. This new responsibility forced him to shed his boyish impulsiveness and embrace the mantle of a leader, a prince who could command respect and inspire loyalty.

Keiran's life had changed completely. His father's faith in him, though unexpected, was not misplaced, and he was determined to prove himself worthy of the honour. Every waking moment was now devoted to preparation, not only for the title he bore but also for the future that loomed on the horizon. He knew that war with Marlenia was inevitable. When that day came, he would stand beside his brother, Prince Kaius, ready to lead the kingdom's forces into battle. The thought both terrified and motivated him, pushing him to train harder and forge himself into a warrior capable of commanding an army and protecting his people.

But there was another reason, one far more persona,l that fueled his transformation: Vesper.

It wasn't Vesper herself who had come to assassinate him and Kaius, but the two deadly female warriors she had trained. Their attack a month ago had been a masterclass in precision and lethality. The two women moved like shadows, their strikes ruthless and unrelenting. Even now, Keiran could remember the cold, calculating way they fought. Unfazed, disciplined, and almost untouchable.

He had heard the stories about Vesper long before that night. Her reputation preceded her, whispered across kingdoms. Vesper was a warrior of unmatched skill, a legend in her own right. She wasn't just a fighter; she was a tactician, a leader who moulded others in her image. Those two assassins had been extensions of her will, trained by her hand.

The encounter had left a mark on Keiran, not just on his body but on his pride. It had exposed the glaring weaknesses in his skills and forced him to confront the truth: he was woefully unprepared for the reality of their world. Only the strong survived, and if he didn't change, he wouldn't last long when war finally came.

Now, his ambition extended beyond simply surviving. He wanted to meet the standards Vesper had set, not to honor her, but to surpass her. He didn't just want to become a great warrior; he wanted to become one of the greatest, a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. If he ever crossed paths with Vesper or her warriors again, he would be ready.

Every swing of his blade, every drop of sweat on the training ground, was a step closer to that goal. He would earn his place, not just as the commander of the royal army but as a man who could stand against anyone, even the likes of Vesper and emerge victorious.

As Keiran lay still on the ground, his chest rising and falling in exhaustion, a sudden cold pressure against his neck jolted him back to awareness. His eyes snapped open, and he froze, realizing a blade was pointed directly at his throat.

His first instinct was to reach for his own sword, but a quick glance confirmed his weapon was just out of reach, leaning against a nearby training dummy. His mind raced, heart pounding, as he calculated his next move.

A familiar laugh broke the tension.

"I caught you unawares again," Prince Kaius said, withdrawing his blade and sheathing it with a practised flourish.

Keiran let out a breath, his muscles unclenching as he sat up, glaring at his brother. "Do you enjoy trying to give me a heart attack?" he muttered, brushing the dirt from his clothes.

Kaius smirked, his arms crossed. "I enjoy teaching you the lesson you clearly still need to learn. Never let your guard down, even when you think you're safe."

"Safe?" Keiran scoffed, standing to face his brother. "On the training ground, with you lurking around like some oversized predator? I'd say it's the least safe place in the entire kingdom."

Kaius grinned, unbothered by the jab. "If you can handle me, you can handle anyone."

Keiran rolled his eyes but couldn't deny the truth in his brother's words. Despite his annoyance, he respected Kaius immensely. His brother's skills were unmatched, his instincts sharp, and his dedication to ensuring Keiran's growth unwavering, even if it meant playing the occasional antagonist.

"You're getting better," Kaius said, his tone softening slightly. "I can see it. But you still have a long way to go. Out there," he gestured beyond the training grounds, "no one will hesitate like I just did. They won't laugh or give you a chance to recover. They'll go straight for the kill. Remember that."

Keiran nodded, his earlier irritation replaced by a renewed determination. "I know. That's why I'm here, day after day."

Kaius clapped him on the shoulder, his expression a mix of pride and challenge. "Good. Because the world won't wait for you to be ready. It's coming, Keiran. And when it does, I need to know you'll be standing beside me, not behind me."

Keiran met his brother's gaze, the weight of his words settling heavily. "I'll be ready," he said firmly. "You have my word."

Kaius nodded approvingly. "Then let's make sure of it. Grab your sword. We're not done yet."

Keiran groaned but obeyed, retrieving his weapon and taking his stance. His body was weary, but his resolve burned brighter than ever. Today was just another step in his journey, a journey that would make him a warrior worthy of his name, his title, and his brother's trust.