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Meralin smiled gently, seeing in Alethion's eyes the weight of the entire world. She realized that words wouldn't suffice this time, so she moved closer, softly brushing his damp hair, then began to hum an old lullaby he'd always loved—a lullaby she used to sing to him on nights when he returned from battles burdened with invisible wounds.
Her voice was soft, warm like a gentle spring breeze, carrying within its melody memories of safety and peace. The tunes quietly crept into Alethion's depths, as if speaking directly to his heart, easing the heaviness of worry pressing on his chest.
Gradually, he relaxed, his body slowly sinking into the warmth of the water, and the tension in his features began to fade. He closed his eyes, surrendering to her voice, which felt like a magical spell dispelling his worries, if only for a moment. The sound of the moving water blended with her melody, creating a serene symphony that drowned out the noise in his mind.
For a fleeting moment, he felt he was not a commander weighed down by responsibilities, nor a warrior standing on the edge of danger… but simply a man who had found in his wife's embrace his final refuge from the storms of the world. With each note of her lullaby, he sank deeper into a state of peace until his breathing grew steady, and he drifted into deep comfort, as if time had paused between her voice and the warmth of the water.
Amid the quiet of the moment and the fading notes of the lullaby, a sudden flash overwhelmed Alethion—a fleeting vision piercing deep into his mind uninvited. He saw a sword gleaming with deadly sharpness, thrusting toward him with terrifying speed, striking his chest with such force that he felt the pain as if it were happening now. His body jolted violently, thrashing in the water like a man trapped in an inescapable nightmare, then he sprang upright suddenly, water splashing around him, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.
His trembling hand reached for his chest, gripping the scar he thought he'd forgotten. The heat of old pain surged back as if the sword were still embedded in his heart. Meralin gasped softly, a mix of fear and worry in her voice, rushing to his side, her eyes scanning him with alarm.
"Alethion! What's wrong?" she cried in a trembling whisper, reaching out to touch his arm as if afraid he might shatter in her hands.
He remained silent for a moment, his breath ragged, his eyes lost, as if still trapped in that vision. Then, in a low, hoarse voice, he answered:
"I… I saw a sword… it struck me in the chest… it was real… I felt it… like it was happening now."
Meralin froze, trying to comprehend what was happening. It wasn't just a passing memory; it was something deeper… as if it were a warning, or perhaps a shadow from a past that had never been buried.
She stepped closer to Alethion, her eyes filled with concern, and gently placed her hand over his chest, right where the scar was. In a calm yet uneasy tone, she whispered:
"I think this vision is connected to the scar on your chest… maybe it's not just an old wound like you thought."
Alethion had no reply. He just stared into her eyes, searching for an explanation for what was happening. But before he could say anything, the bathroom door burst open suddenly, and Arendal, the head servant, rushed in, panting as if something urgent had occurred.
He froze for a moment, stunned by what he saw: Alethion standing half-naked, water dripping from his body, with Meralin standing close in front of him, her hand on his chest, and an air of charged silence and tension between them.
Arendal's eyes widened with embarrassment. He opened his mouth to say something, then stumbled over his words and quickly closed it.
Meralin, her face flushing with deep redness, hurried to explain nervously, "It's not what you think! It's not what you think!"
But before she could finish, Arendal stammered quickly, his voice shaky, "I-I apologize for the interruption!"
Then he turned and fled the room at a brisk pace, his face red as if he'd witnessed something he wasn't supposed to see.
Silence lingered for a moment before Alethion and Meralin exchanged an awkward glance, then both burst into soft laughter, as if trying to ease the tension left by the incident.
After their laughter subsided, Alethion wiped the water from his face and said with a faint smile, "I guess this isn't the right time to discuss the scar… Let's get out; I'm starving."
Meralin chuckled lightly, picking up a towel to hand to him, then commented with a teasing tone, "I suppose the servants now have an interesting topic to discuss."
Alethion smirked as he wrapped the towel around his waist, saying, "At least it'll break the monotony of their day."
They left the bathroom together, a trace of lightheartedness still lingering in the air. Yet, beneath those smiles, the scar held secrets yet to be uncovered, waiting for the right moment to resurface.
After Alethion and Meralin dressed, they headed together to the dining hall, where dinner had been carefully prepared. Kaelor and Elora were already seated, their eyes gleaming with childish excitement.
Alethion sat beside his wife at the table, laden with a variety of delicious dishes, aromatic with spices and fresh roasts.
Barely had Alethion taken his first bite when Kaelor began speaking enthusiastically:
"Father, I had an amazing day! My instructor taught me a new fencing technique today. It's incredible! It made me feel like a real knight."
Alethion smiled proudly, listening to his son, before Elora chimed in with lively energy:
"Yes! Kaelor was truly impressive. I saw him with my own eyes! His moves were quick and precise."
Alethion chuckled, looking at them both, saying, "I see you have a talent for exaggeration, Elora."
Kaelor blushed from the praise, while Elora continued passionately, "As for me, I can't wait to have my own magic instructor. I'll be the best in my class as soon as I finish my lessons!"
Alethion and Meralin exchanged a warm, proud glance, filled with love, while the conversation around the table continued, wrapped in the familial warmth that eased the burden of the thoughts Alethion carried in his heart.
The next morning, Alethion woke up early despite the exhaustion still weighing on his body. He decided to spend some time with his son, Kaelor, to train him in fencing. They made their way to the backyard, where the fresh air mingled with golden sunlight filtering through the trees.
Meralin and Elora stood on the balcony overlooking the yard, watching eagerly.
Alethion held his wooden sword, handing Kaelor a similar one. They took their positions in the center of the yard, and the training began.
Alethion slightly bent his knees, taking a defensive stance while speaking in a serious yet gentle tone:
"The first rule of defense, Kaelor, is to maintain your balance. Don't keep your feet rooted like a tree trunk—move them lightly, as if dancing on a thin line."
He demonstrated how to bend his knees slightly, keeping the sword angled in front of his body to protect vital points. Then Kaelor advanced to strike, and Alethion blocked the blow with quick, fluid motion, pivoting lightly on his feet to absorb the force without losing balance.
"See, it's not just about strength. It's about timing and quick reactions."
The situation has now changed, and Alethion is on the offensive while Kaylor tries to defend.
Alethion said with an encouraging smile:
"To break your opponent's defense, don't attack directly. Feint. Make him think you'll strike from one side, then hit from the other."
He performed a deceptive move, as if he were going to attack from the right, but at the last moment, he shifted the sword to the left, confusing Kaylor and breaking his defense for a brief moment.
"It's all about mind games, my son. Don't let your opponent predict your next move."
Elora laughed from the balcony, clapping enthusiastically, while Meralyn smiled proudly.
After several rounds, Alethion stopped and approached Kaylor, who was breathing heavily from the intense training, placing his hand on his shoulder and saying:
"You were amazing today. Remember, dueling is not just about strength and speed, but also about mind and patience."
This wasn't just sword training; it was a life lesson.
After Alethion finished his training with Kaylor, they sat on the grass catching their breath, their faces lit with tired but satisfied smiles. Meralyn and Elora laughed from the balcony, enjoying the warm family scene. However, this peaceful atmosphere didn't last long, as Ragarath's loud voice pierced the air, followed by a mischievous chuckle:
"Fight me, Alethion! Let your son truly see what you're trying to teach him!"
Alethion turned in surprise toward the source of the voice, seeing Ragarath emerging confidently from the corner of the house, a wide grin on his face, with his massive axe swinging on his shoulder. Alethion laughed in return, stood up, wiped the sweat from his brow, and walked toward the wooden weapon rack where his metal sword was hanging.
Alethion drew his sword, a weapon worthy of a seasoned warrior. It was perfectly long, matching his stature—not too heavy to slow him down, nor too light to fail him in strong strikes. The hilt was made of tightly wrapped dark leather over a metal layer adorned with intricate engravings resembling the roots of an ancient tree, branching gracefully to cover a small part of the blade's lower edge. The crossguard was crafted in the shape of small wings extending smoothly to protect the warrior's hand.
As for Ragarath, he drew his massive axe with its broad, gleaming blade and sharp edge reflecting the sunlight with a dark sheen. Its sturdy wooden handle was reinforced with metal rings for protection, giving it perfect balance despite its size.
The two stood in the middle of the courtyard, and everyone gathered to watch. Even Kaylor sat on the ground, his eyes sparkling with excitement to see his father in a real duel.
The sparring began with cautious movements. Ragarath advanced first, delivering a sweeping blow with his massive axe, but Alethion dodged smoothly, leaning slightly and stepping back.
Ragarath said with a grin, "What's this? Do you prefer dancing over fighting?"
Alethion replied with a sarcastic smile, "I dance to avoid your slow strikes."
They exchanged several quick blows—Alethion using the speed of his sword and his agility, while Ragarath relied on brute strength and the sheer weight of his axe. Each strike from Ragarath shook the ground beneath them, but Alethion was like water, flowing between the attacks with astonishing grace.
At one moment, Ragarath launched a powerful attack, using all his strength in a thunderous vertical strike. But Alethion slid to the side at the last moment, letting the axe crash violently into the ground. Not missing the opportunity, he spun swiftly, striking his sword hard against the side of the axe handle, forcing Ragarath to lose his balance for a second.
Then, with a fluid motion, Alethion circled behind Ragarath and gently placed the cold edge of his sword against his neck. Silence reigned for a few seconds before everyone burst into laughter and applause.
Ragarath laughed loudly, raising his hands in surrender:
"Alright, alright! You're still the best, you old fox!"
Alethion smiled as he lowered his sword:
"It's not easy to defeat me, even for you."
Kaylor ran to his father, his eyes shining with admiration:
"Father! That was amazing! I want to learn that move!"
Alethion patted his son's head, saying:
"Everything in its time, my champion."
Everyone returned to their warm atmosphere, but Alethion's eyes couldn't hide a subtle glint of caution, as if the shadow of the duel had awakened something deeper within him than just a friendly fight.
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If you like the story ! please support it
And the best way to do this is through patréon
You get access to +5 chapters !
Or even 12+ chapters if you want !
So please check out my patréon
https://www.patréon.com/c/zakx205
Don't forget to change "é" to "e"