Child Of Time

The boy's laughter echoed through the training ground, accompanied by the sharp clack-clack of wooden swords. His younger brother lunged forward, determination painted across his face as he swung wildly.

"You call that a swing?" the older boy laughed, dodging the clumsy strike with ease.

"I'm just warming up!" the younger boy shot back, his face lighting up with a mischievous grin. He lunged again, his wooden sword wobbling but full of spirit.

"Warming up? More like flailing around!" the older boy teased, sidestepping and tapping his brother's shoulder with his blade.

"Hey! No fair!" the younger one pouted, but his giggles betrayed his attempt to act serious.

"All's fair in war and sword fights," the older boy said dramatically, spinning his weapon with exaggerated flair.

"Oh yeah? then take this!" The younger boy charged

"You're going down this time!" the younger boy shouted, charging with all the energy he could muster.

Grey sighed, sidestepping effortlessly. With a flick of his wrist, he tapped the younger boy's head with the back of his sword.

"Ow!" The smaller boy yelped, losing his balance and falling onto the ground. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked up at Grey, lip trembling.

"You're still a hundred years too young to beat me," Grey said coolly, resting the sword casually on his shoulder.

"That hurt!" the younger boy whimpered, rubbing his head.

he younger boy scowled, rubbing his head as he sat up. "You only win because you're older than me!" he grumbled. "Just like you can't beat Dad, 'cause he's older than you!" He crossed his arms defiantly, a pout on his face. "One day, I'll catch up, and then I'll beat you both!"

Grey smirked, shaking his head in amusement. "Even if you grow up to be a giant, you still won't beat me," he teased, giving his brother a playful ruffle on the head. "Your big bro is just that amazing." He chuckled, enjoying the sight of his brother's frustrated, yet determined expression.

But their mirth was abruptly shattered by a loud, distant

BOOM,

followed by the faint cries of men. The air vibrated with the unmistakable clash of metal.

Clang! Clang!

Grey stopped dead in his tracks, the sound ringing in his ears. Dust fell from the stone walls, and his brother flinched, clutching at his small chest.

"Stay here," Grey said, his voice sharper than he intended. He tried to soften it, but his heart was already hammering in his chest.

His brother nodded hesitantly, his tiny hands trembling as he gripped the hem of his tunic.

Grey moved cautiously toward the iron door, each step heavier than the last. He pressed his ear against its cold surface, listening. The muffled sounds grew clearer—shouts, screams, the clash of weapons. Smoke drifted through the narrow gaps in the door, carrying with it the metallic tang of blood and the acrid sting of fire.

With trembling fingers, Grey eased the door open just enough to peek outside.

The courtyard beyond was chaos incarnate. Guards fought desperately against the invaders. The cobblestones were slick with blood, and bodies lay crumpled in grotesque poses. Flames roared in the distance, black smoke curling into the sky like a sinister omen.

Grey's breath caught in his throat. His stomach churned, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

"What is happening?" Grey muttered under his breath, his eyes widening as he watched the destruction unfold. The mansion, once towering and majestic, was crumbling before him. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"How did this happen?" His voice barely rose above a whisper, disbelief etched across his face as the chaos consumed everything around him.

At that moment a noise behind him made him whirl around.

"Brother?" his younger sibling's voice was small, scared. "What's out there?"

Grey forced himself to smile. "Nothing you need to see. Stay there. Don't move."

The child nodded, his wide eyes brimming with trust.

Before Grey could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps made him spin back toward the door. His heart leaped into his throat. Two figures were rushing toward the training ground. Instinctively, Grey drew his real sword, its cold weight both a comfort and a burden.

As the figures approached, Grey recognized them. They were knights, members of his family's retinue. Relief warred with unease as he noted their disheveled appearance, their faces pale and haunted.

The guards pushed through the door, slamming it shut behind them.

"Young master! Are you okay?" one of them asked, his voice trembling.

Grey lowered his sword slightly but didn't let go. "What's going on out there?"

The guards didn't answer. Instead, they began barking orders at each other.

"Lock the door!"

"Secure the area!"

"Young master, don't worry. We'll keep you safe!"

Grey's unease deepened. The guards were frantic, their movements erratic. but no matter how much he ask them or try to talk to them they wont answer...

'Why won't they answer me?'

He stepped forward, his voice firmer. "I asked you a question. What's happening?"

The guards continued to ignore him, their focus entirely on barricading the door. Grey's frustration bubbled over.

"Answer me!" he snapped, his voice cutting through the tension.

Still, they didn't respond.

His younger brother, who had been sitting quietly, looked up at the guards with wide, questioning eyes. "Where's Father?" he asked in a small, trembling voice.

The guards froze. One of them turned slowly, his face contorted with grief.

"Young master..." His voice cracked, and he looked away, unable to meet the boy's gaze.

Sensing something was off grey stepped closer, his heart pounding. "What's wrong? Where is my father?"

The other guard fell to his knees, clutching his head as if in pain. "We... we couldn't save him..."

The words hit like a thunderclap.

Grey's vision blurred. "What... what are you saying?"

The first guard sank to the ground, his shoulders shaking. "The king... he's dead."

"No!" Grey's voice was a raw scream. His sword clattered to the ground as his hands curled into fists. This can't be real. Father can't be dead.

Beside him, his younger brother gasped. "Papa's... gone?"

The child's voice cracked, and tears spilled down his cheeks. He stumbled toward the nearest guard, grabbing his arm. "No! You're lying! Papa can't die!"

The guard's face crumpled. "I'm so sorry, young master..."

The little boy collapsed to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. "Why didn't he come to get us? Why didn't he save us?"

Grey's chest burned with rage and despair. He stormed toward the kneeling guard, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him upright. "You're lying!" he roared, his voice thick with fury. "If you lie to me again, I'll kill you myself!"

The guard stared at him, terrified, but didn't speak.

"Tell me the truth!" Grey shouted, shaking the man violently. His vision blurred with unshed tears.

"Brother..." his sibling's voice was barely a whisper. "Papa's really gone?"

The child's tear-streaked face broke something inside Grey.

He yanked the guard up again, his grip tightening. "You!!" His voice was raw, but the words tangled in his mind, unable to escape his throat.

They felt jagged, caught somewhere between rage and disbelief, tangled in the mess of thoughts spiraling through his mind. His breath was uneven, a deep, guttural sound that matched the turmoil churning within him.

The crack in the wall, the guard's condition—it all pointed to the truth, yet Grey refused to accept it. His mind couldn't reconcile the reality that was right in front of him. He couldn't accept that he had been so blind, so wrong. His teeth ground together, the pain of realization sharp as a blade.

His voice, strained and breaking, finally forced its way out, barely a whisper, but full of desperate urgency. "Tell me the truth!"

But before the guard could respond, the whistle of an arrow sliced through the air.

Thwack!

The guard's body jolted as the arrow pierced his skull. Blood sprayed across Grey's face, warm and sticky.

Time slowed. The guard crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Grey's breath hitched. His hand trembled as he wiped at the blood on his face, smearing it across his cheek. His silver hair was now matted and red.

"Brother!"

The panicked cry jolted him back. His younger sibling was frozen in terror, his small hands clutching at his tunic.

Grey clenched his jaw, gripping his sword tightly. He stepped forward, shielding his brother as the sound of more arrows filled the air.