It was an ancient being chained to the wall. The chains gleamed like gems in a dark sea freshly polished as though they had only just been set. But the age of the room belied something far older. Something cold, something forgotten. As though time itself had forgotten about this chamber.
Chapter 1
My name is Runan Brytfeld. My 18th birthday is in three weeks, and I am taking a short walk through the gardens to clear my head. The gardens, sprawling and meticulously kept, are one of the few places that feel truly like mine in this estate of grandeur and expectation. Flowers of every hue bloom along the paths, their colors vibrant even under the pale light of dawn, yet even their beauty cannot distract me from the storm in my mind.
Brytfeld is a small land, a narrow passage that carves its way through an otherwise impassable mountain range. To the north lies Arngstrom, cold and unyielding; to the east, Endreva, wealthy and cunning; to the south, Weltspan, fierce and proud; and to the west, Costland, a kingdom of sailors and free spirits. These four Kingdoms were once locked in an eternal war over the passage my family governs, the only safe route through the treacherous peaks, and have only recently agreed to lay down their weapons in the hope of a better future. Without our passage, merchants and envoys would be forced to brave snowstorms, monsters, and the shadows of exiles and dragons said to haunt the frozen wastes.
My parents, and grandparents, through their unmatched skill with both blade and spell, as well as excellent skills as merchants, transformed that advantage into immense wealth and power. This perilous lifeline made Brytfeld indispensable—a keystone of trade and tenuous peace. They are the reason kingdoms bow their heads at our table and why the garden I now walk sits beside a castle that gleams with the spoils of their success.
As the current rulers of Brytfeld, my parents love their events—celebrations that dazzle and awe, they are as much performances as they are gatherings. If tradition holds, my eighteenth birthday will be an affair to rival the balls of kings, a spectacle designed to impress our allies and remind our rivals of the power and wealth my family wields. To be honest, I was terrified. As a member of the royal lineage, my birthday would be packed with other royal families, seeking to improve their status in the realm. It will be crowded with prospective suitors practically tripping over themselves to win my hand—and their daughters tagging along like some kind of afterthought. I would be the direct center of attention, and this would be my chance to prove myself.
While my parents love me and my siblings dearly, and are fiercely devout to each other, they are also, and have always been rather absent in our lives, due to working hard to keep peace between our neighbors, as well as being directly responsible for maintaining the safety of the mountain passages. I suppose in part, they were also absent due to their station, though I do not fault them for this.
The Brytfelds have always been known for our legendary swordsmen, ever since my Great-Great-Grandfather Oscar conquered these lands. With his strength alone he slew the great Black Fox who haunted this land. The legend goes he drove his blade coated with the beast’s blood into the Heart of Ice, driving back the storms, before declaring his sovereignty and founding the kingdom of Brytfeld.
“HEY, DIRTMOUTH!”
Hell, It’s my older brother Eldrin. He’s always been a massive headache to deal with, ever since I was a child. He seems to find it amusing to force people into duels where he can show off how strong he is, and I seem to have won the lucky spot of his favourite target.
Ever since…
3 years ago
I woke up on my 15th birthday, Feeling nervous… I still felt no different. Perhaps it was too early? I was lost in ponderance when a soft knock came from my bedroom door.
“Young Master?” A voice came from beyond the door. Avriel, my handmaid. While she appeared young, she had been around long enough to see the sun give birth to the moon, and had enough smiles to make the night seem like day. “Your presence has been requested in the main hall.”
“Thank you, Avriel,” I replied, wondering what tomfoolery my parents had scheduled for this year’s celebration.
As I finished putting on my clothes, I noticed a small package on my desk. Upon closer inspection it revealed itself to be a small brown paper parcel, wrapped in twine with a small, almost hastily scrawled note on top. Happy Birthday Runan! Good Luck Today!!!
A lovely gift from my elder sister Ashlin, with her trademark style. I opened the package, and a small necklace fell out, knocking against the table with a strange sound. It was like the peal of a brand-new bell, yet somehow it sounded faded and ancient. It was a small thing, as necklaces tend to go, but very intricate all the same. The necklace was that of a crystalline feather, though not one of any bird I had ever seen, kept within a small wire cage of some sort of dull white metal. The whole thing was hanging from an old looking leather cord, well-kept in its lack of cracks. The whole thing was covered in runes and smelled faintly of sun-touched morning dew. There was a second note, this one written in a more formal, neat penmanship.
I wish you luck, Runan, and good health today. Ashlin found this for you, and it cost both of our monthly salary for the next three months. Supposedly it holds a high tier enchantment of protection, though I have never seen the runes before.
I fastened the necklace around my neck and grabbed my training sword, its worn grip familiar yet uninspiring. If all went well, today would be the last time I’d need to hold one of these drab, unremarkable things. With any luck, I might finally be strong enough to claim one of the family’s Legacy Blades—a symbol of true power and worth. Three of my siblings had already awakened with the strength to earn such an honor. Perhaps today, I would prove myself worthy of joining their ranks.
I proceeded to make my way out of the room and met Avriel in the hall. With a deep bow, she guided me to the main hall, chattering about the comings and goings of her grandchildren while we went. I never understood how she managed to have a new grandchild every other time she brought them up, but listening to her ramble seemed to make her happy, so I wasn’t too bothered.
We entered the main hall to a strange sight. On one side of the room was my Father, The Patriarch, and my Mother, The Matriarch; my twin sisters Ashlin and Evelyn, and my brother Kingsly stood beside them. I had not yet earned the rights to my parents’ names, and they were no king or queen, regardless of the fact that my father was stronger than any king on the continent.
On the other side of the room, however, was the Grand Priest of the church of Ezcatoth, from the capitol. What was he doing here? He hadn’t been present for my other siblings’ awakenings. They all had the local priest presiding over their awakenings. Were my parents that worried about how strong I would be? And why do my sisters look so worried? I couldn’t make anything out over the rest of the people in the room, the hall being full of royals from the kingdom and nearby neighbors.
All of us were excited, and why wouldn’t we be? Today would be the day the Brytfelds tied another epic saga to our great tapestry! It was the day of my awakening, a day to show all that I was a true Brytfeld! Today was the day I would begin my proper training as a true knight and join my siblings on the quest to grow our legacy.
“Silence” The command from the Patriarch was quiet but firm and the room quieted shortly. “I will not bore you with long words or tales of lore. It is my son’s day to show us his lore, and I would not take that from him! He is of Brytfeld, and of Brytfeld is he!”
With that, my father gestured me forward towards the priest. I moved towards him, feeling the nervous air in the room. I glanced over and saw Ashlin waving and Evelyn giving me a thumbs up. The atmosphere in the room was palpable, as if the very room was holding its breath. The priest held out a large, ornate wooden chest, covered in fine golden filigree and embossed with carvings of the divine goddess. As we all stood and watched, with an air of respect and rapt curiosity, the Priest moved to open the lid. Inside was a large swirling orb of grey clouds. This was it. This was a Lunar orb, said to be a gift from the Moon goddess herself. The large orb seemed to be one off glass, with crystal clarity to see a gentle cloud storm held within. I could barely hold myself back with the anticipation, since the shade of blue I would get, combined with the intensity of the storm will tell us how strong my swordsman’s Lightstorm is.
Everyone in this realm is born with a Storm of Light, and from that comes your capabilities. If your soul has a raging Lightstorm, your muscles grow faster, your lungs can hold more air, you can jump higher, and people with intense enough storms can even earn “Skills”, Light infused abilities that reach beyond the abilities of the average person. Some special few can manipulate this Storm and use it to weave spells instead!
There are many different hues and shades to the Light, and we were all expecting some shade of blue. If I am to be truthful however, then I should tell it right. I was never prepared for anything less than a perfect azure blue— the Light of our founder, and the mark of all great swordsmen. There was also carnation red, which signified a spellcaster at heart, like my mother and Evelyn, and emerald green, though it had never been seen in our family, would indicate a healer. But none of those hues were ever meant to be mine.
“Well go on then,” The Priest said, gesturing towards the orb. “I’m sure we are all excited to see the next Patriarch reveal himself.”
I reached out, fingertips brushing the orb’s near-freezing surface, slick and unnervingly smooth, like a perfect marble. Strange, I thought. Did it just shiver? The thought barely had time to form before Light erupted forth. As my hands connected with the orb, the necklace around my neck burned white-hot against my chest. Frost began to creep over the orb’s surface, and then, with a crackling intensity, it exploded in a burst of Golden Light.
“Get back!” shouted the Priest, trying desperately to pull me away from the orb. But before he could, a single bell chime rang out—ancient and eternal, yet impossibly fresh, like the first sound ever made. It pierced the air, louder than anything I’d ever heard. Stranger yet, I felt I knew this sound. I could hear it ringing endlessly as the world around us dissolved into blinding white, and the last thing I remembered was that the sound was growing in intensity…
“Well, Hello There”
I came to myself lying on the floor of the hall, covered in sweat with frost on my fingers, as my vision cleared. It’s not possible, is it? The Light must have looked wrong, I must have been too blinded by the pain? Gold? It couldn’t have been. I could barely breathe. Maybe it just looks like gold when you are really strong? I was panicking, and I could have sworn I heard someone speak to me a second ago. What is going on?
“Ronan! Ronan!” Mother was shaking me, and as I looked around, I felt my heart drop. The Storm orb had fractured, with a massive cleft running through it. There was no way to check to make sure, and even if there was, no one ever gets re-evaluated. The only way was to wait three years. Three years of lost growth.
“It seems the Lord hath spoken” Began the Great Priest “Ezcatoth has declared this lamb of the flock to be one of his Chosen! He is born of the Holy Storm and will be a priest!”
Just like that, my dreams shattered. The Holy Storm? The Holy Storm is only good for clergy folk who sit in prayer and study at desks. It promotes mental strength and fortitude sure, but combat strength is non-existent!
I had failed the family? ME!? Impossible. I pushed my mother aside and jumped to my feet, feeling my training sword clack against my leg. I glared down at it and ripped the sheath from my hip, throwing the symbol of my failure to the ground.
I started pushing people to the side, moving them out of my way as I started to run. I couldn’t face The Patriarch with such failure in my eyes, and I fled to the gardens. I was running in fear and embarrassment. Is it any wonder I should have tripped? And what are the odds of Eldrin being right there, to watch me as I stumbled forward and fell headfirst into the dirt path, ending up with a face full?
“Way to go Dirtmouth!” he shouted, before walking over to me. “Y’know, maybe you should consider giving up on all of this?” he said, as he reached down to me. I thought he was going to help me up, so I raised my hand, only for him to smack it away, and grab my new necklace. “Perhaps you won’t need something this nice after all, since you’ll be camped out at a desk, reading books and eating food every day.” he said, as he ripped it off my neck. “Meanwhile, I’ll have to hunt down my meals most days, and starve the rest as I fight for my life Perhaps, in fact, I may need this a bit more than you after all?” he said as he clasped the necklace around his neck and sneered down at me
I stared up at him, in shock and confusion, as he grinned down at me. I could see fear and jealousy in his eyes. I could barely think straight, and I learned later I had gained a concussion from the fall, but as I looked up at him, his face seemed to morph into this large furry monster, looking down at me and laughing at my failures as he hated me for taking away his chances.
Flashback to today: I am 17, standing at the precipice of my future, with only three weeks left until my 18th birthday. The countdown feels like a noose tightening around my neck. If I fail to show even the faintest hint of a blue hue by then—a sign of my awakening, my connection to the Light—my fate is sealed. I’ll be forced to leave behind any dreams of becoming a swordsman and instead be sent to join the church, where my life will be reduced to servitude and quiet obedience.
The Patriarch, in what he calls his “generosity,” granted me this birthday wish: a brief reprieve, three fleeting years to prove myself, to awaken. But beneath his benevolent façade lies the cold truth—this isn’t a kindness. It’s a challenge, one last chance to either rise or be discarded as a family disappointment, a blemish to be forgotten. The weight of expectation, the whispers of failure from my siblings, this damn wooden club—they all remind me of what’s at stake. Three weeks to define my destiny or be condemned to a life of clerical work and study.
I would be busy practicing, but Eldrin showed up and forced me into another duel with him. After promptly beating me, again, he’s got me up against a tree by my collar. Since I am not allowed to use a proper sword until my Light shines at least a blue highlight, I can only use practice swords. Brother mine has taken this as an excuse to turn every duel into a physical brawl.
“Listen here, ya freak. It’s about time you gave up this pipe dream of yours and put down your sword.” Eldrin sneered at me, his voice dripping with contempt. “I told you, ‘I’ll stop kicking your ass, when you stop pretending you have a chance to do anything but fail and insult my sword,’ and what do I find you out here doing? Swinging that damn hunk of wood over, and over, and over again. Like it’s gonna make any difference.” He punctuates each of his statements by kneeing me in the stomach, reminding me just how weak I really am. Eldrin may not be one of my strongest siblings, but even he managed to have a swordsman’s Lightstorm, which was still infinitely more than I had.
“I don’t know what the twins see in you that they seem to think you have a snowball’s chance, but in three weeks, when you prove me right by failing in front of everyone, then you’ll get sent to the priest school, and I’ll get that nice room of yours. Not to mention I’ll be able to walk around without having to see a pathetic whelp around all the time.”
There was a flash of Light and a gust of wind, and the next thing I knew, Eldrin was ten feet away from me.
“Enough of this nonsense, Brother Eldrin” came a gentle voice beside me. I glanced over and saw Ashlin! She had been gone since the evening of my 15th birthday, sent on a mission for the kingdom. To see her here again could only mean two things. She had either succeeded or failed. And we all know not to come back if we fail, so clearly, it only could really mean one thing.
“Sister!” I cried, excited with her return. I had missed her dearly, as she and Evelyn were my best friends here on the estate. It pained me greatly that I had lost their gift to Eldrin, and I was ashamed to think that he was wearing it right in front of her. Except… He wasn’t? I noticed that the gleaming hunk of white metal and rock that had been dangling from his chest as a grim reminder of my failures was missing.
“Here” Ashlin said, as she handed me the very same necklace. “Don’t lose it this time.” She said, as she started to walk away.
I stared down at the necklace in my hands, feeling my eyes begin to burn. I was ashamed that I hadn’t even been able to earn it back on my own. It felt hot in my hands, and looking at it made my cheeks feel hot. I quickly put it in my pocket and turned to her.
“Ashlin, wait!” I shouted as I rushed towards her. Grabbing her arm I asked, “how long are you here for?” I had hoped she would stay for a while, but had a feeling it wouldn’t be for very long. As a Legacy Blade holder, she would be out of here with orders within the week.
“If I am lucky Little Brother, then perhaps long enough to see something new? Hopefully the Patriarch is not so demanding as to deny me some time to rest.” She looked exhausted up close, like she was on the third day of a two day hike. “But that is not important right now!” In a moment she cleared up her visage, suddenly bright smiling and happy to see me, before frowning slightly. “Where is your necklace? I would hope you wear it, if only for me?” She seemed a bit distraught, so I pulled it out of my pocket. Strangely, it still felt warm to the touch, as if it was generating heat. I shook it off and put on the necklace, leaving it over my shirt to not feel the warmth. This seemed to encourage Ashlin, and she smiled again, this time with more of a satisfied look on her face.
We headed inside and walked the halls, chatting about our time apart, though she was very careful not to tell me anything more about her missions, before we reached the Patriarch’s door. and Ashlin turned to me.
“I must leave you here, as I have to report to the Patriarch in regards to my mission status. I will make sure to see you in the morning.” she said, before turning to head into his chambers. “Perhaps we will have some time to catch up in town, I am sure you have much to share with me.”
With that, she departed, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I headed back to my room, and figured I would rest for the evening. It had been a long day of grueling training and Eldrin’s antics. Avriel had left me a platter of food, and after eating, I decided to rest in my chair and read. I picked up the nearest book on swordplay and started to read, trying my best to remember and understand what I read.
“It’s Been A While”
I was jolted awake by a voice in my dreams. A voice I knew, a voice from my dreams, clear and unmistakable. That same bell-like voice! The one who spoke the day my life was torn asunder, but where? And why? My thoughts scrambled for answers as the heat from my necklace seared against my chest, burning like an accusation I couldn’t escape.
“I Have Been Waiting”
***
