Eamon's POV

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the training ground as Fenton and I faced off, the weight of our family legacy heavy in the air. Our father watched from the sidelines, his gaze sharp with expectation.

"Fenton," I called, my voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in my chest. "Are you ready?"

He nodded, a flicker of determination in his eyes that I couldn't quite place. "As ready as I'll ever be, brother."

With a nod, I raised my training sword, the metal gleaming in the fading light. The clash of our weapons echoed through the air, a symphony of steel and determination.

As we spared, I could feel the tension building between us, the unspoken competition driving us to push ourselves harder than ever before. But with each exchange, it became increasingly clear that I held the upper hand.

With each blow, I tried my best to knock him down. Then, with a swift movement, I finally disarmed Fenton, my victory undeniable. I knocked him to the ground as I was catching my breath. But as I extended a hand to help him up, I caught a glimpse of something in his eyes. It is a flicker of darkness and a spark of resentment.

"You fought well, brother," I said, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling settling in my stomach.

Fenton's smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he accepted my hand, his grip was firm and unyielding. "As did you, Eamon. But the fight is far from over."

“Let's both try our best, " I offered him a handshake.

He tilted his head before accepting my handshake. “Let's see.”

***

In the days that followed, strange things began happening. My training equipment mysteriously broke, and my study materials vanished without a trace. Each time, I brushed it off as mere coincidence, unaware of the betrayal lurking in the shadows.

It wasn't until I stumbled upon Fenton breaking my weapon again that the truth began to unravel. "Fenton, what are you doing?" I demanded, my voice tinged with anger and disbelief.

He turned to me, his expression unreadable. "Just a little adjustment, brother. Nothing you need to worry about."

But worry I did, the seeds of doubt taking root in my mind. I confronted Fenton, but he slipped away before I could confront him further, leaving me to stew in my suspicions.

***

Another day of sparring arrived, we both entered the arena. The wind gently blows as we stand ten meters apart, gazing at each other’s faces. Suddenly, I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me, my vision began to swim. But I pushed through the discomfort, determined to prove myself worthy of our family's legacy.

As Fenton launched his relentless assault, I struggled to keep up, my senses dulled by an unseen force. But still, I fought on, refusing to let my brother's treachery hold me back.

In the end, I fell to the ground, my body wracked with pain, but still, I refused to give up. “Why am I so weak right now,” I asked myself in disbelief as I tried my best to stand up.

“Stop,” our father intervened, calling an end to the match and rushing me to my room to recuperate. I laid down on my bed, my head was still spinning and I felt weak.

Two hours had passed since our friendly match, and the doctor came for a checkup. He sighed before finally confirming our suspicions, “You had been poisoned,” he stated while writing down his notes in a piece of paper.

The doctor handed me the paper he wrote. “Here are the medicines and some notes you need to pay attention to. Notes with every detail about the medicine consumption are written in there,” the doctor explained.

With a heavy heart, I confronted Fenton, but lacking concrete proof, I could only seethe in silence as I continued to prepare for the final showdown.

***

And… The day arrived, the day of reckoning arrived. I put on a black coat as I watched the reflection of myself through my sword.

I entered the arena and Fenton soon followed.

I faced my brother once more, our gazes locked in silent battle. I launched towards him, aiming my sword right into his chest. As expected he was able to deflect and reposition himself.

With every blow exchanged, the weight of our shared history hung heavy between us. I wielded my sword, with my right hand, aiming for the right side of his skull. He swiftly countered and our blades locked in a tense standoff.

Predicting his move, I released my grip, transferring the sword to my left hand. With finesse, I directed my strike towards his liver.

Yet, a surge of hesitation compelled me to alter my attack, choosing to deliver a forceful blow with my fist instead, striking his exposed liver from a reverse grip.

Hitting him at the weak point, I successfully knocked him down to the ground, his sword flew in the air, as I catched it with my right hand.

I pointed at him with his sword right on his face as I said, “Evil will never win, Fenton.”

In the end, it was not victory that I craved, but closure. As my brother lay defeated at my feet, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow for the bond that had been broken between us.

My father stood up from his seat, and so did Fenton. With a pair of eyes full of hatred, he ran from the arena, while looking back at me once before entering our home.

I was left there victorious with sadness filled myself.

***

And so, with a heavy heart and a newfound sense of responsibility, I stepped forward to take my place as the head of the Levisay family. At the ceremony, The Levisay family members gathered, except Fenton.

My father and I decided to look for him in his room only to find nothing but scattered papers and books. That day I realized that…

I lost him.

***

“Eamon…Eamon…”

I heard a voice calling my name. But all I can see is darkness.

The voice was getting louder and louder. Then…I woke up. My thoughts lingering on the brother I had lost along the way.

Sheira gazed at me with a worried face, holding my left hand with a tight grip.

Blinking back the remnants of a prolonged reverie, I found myself aboard a wooden carriage, propelled by the gallop of a coal-black steed. The wind whipped past with an unyielding force as we hastened towards a distant kingdom.

“We're almost there,” Sheira stated while pointing at the kingdom far away.

I shrugged and replied, “right, we must be quick.”

I felt something in my right hand. It turned out to be Fenton's sword which I had been using in battle. Since that day, I have always used these two swords to fight against my adversaries.

“Suffine sent us a message regarding the situation in the battlefield. From the last attack, Lorendale took full control of at least twenty percent of our land,” Sheira stated, handing me the letter from Suffine.

“We have no time to waste, let's gather up at the hall when we arrive,” I replied.

***

We arrived at the royal gates, and Sheira immediately shouted to the gate guard, "Gather the officials and generals at the hall, now!" And so, the trumpets sounded in the middle of the night, signaling the time for an impromptu meeting.

Sheira and I quickly got off the carriage as we rushed towards the hall. I pushed the big doors open as we entered the hall filled with officials and generals ready for this meeting.

Suffine gave us a forty five degree bow as we rushed towards the table placed at the center and Sheira slammed the table as she said, “Let's end this.”

To be continued…