A year was the time it took me to learn how to fight in a way I considered barely decent.

  But even now, I marveled at the fact that I’d managed to steal a few wins against Father, even though he had been clearly holding back on me.

  Over time, though, he admitted that he had started to put in some more effort during our fights, which had the main goal in finding out what fighting style suited me best.

  He kept insisting that if I had inherited his skills, I would likely excel in the Dawn style, like his father and the father of his father and so on.

  Perhaps sensing my perplexities about the legitimacy and spontaneity of those choices, at last he had relented and agreed that the final decision would be mine and mine alone to take.

  I’d delayed it as long as possible, using my uncertainty as an excuse, but I had run out of time.

  “Have you chosen a style, Arda?”

  Father sounded impatient to hear my answer.

  “I’d like to specialize in the Phantom style,” I announced. “But I’d like to learn at least the basics of the other two. I think there’s a lot to gain even from knowing just the basics,” I quickly added.

  Each style focused on a different aspect of combat.

  The Dawn style prioritized powerful attacks, aiming to overwhelm an opponent in as few strikes as possible. It relied on aggression and raw strength, but lacked defensive techniques, putting it at a disadvantage in prolonged battles.

  The Sunset style was its exact opposite. It focused on counterattacking, prioritizing defense, and waiting for an opening in the enemy’s guard. It was arguably the most frustrating to face, especially in long fights, though a fast enough opponent could bypass its counters and turn the tide.

  The Phantom style was something else entirely, to the point where it barely even looked like a traditional fighting style. It was built on speed, stealth, and precision. Unfortunately, over time it had earned an ominous reputation as the preferred style of assassins. But, to be fair, that fact alone only confirmed its great effectiveness.

  It was just as formidable as the other two styles, and, theoretically, it was their worst possible matchup.

  A fighter could be a master of thousands of counters and powerful strikes, but if you couldn’t even hit your opponent, well… Game over.

  On top of that, Phantom style was also the most versatile for integrating magic into combat, be it conjurer or magus flavored, and so I felt it was the one that would resonate the most with me.

  “I’m sorry, Father,” I said, attempting to console him. “I’m afraid this wasn’t the answer you were hoping for.”

  With theatrical flair, he sniffed dramatically and covered his eyes with one hand.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Arda,” he turned his head away just slightly, as if not to meet my eyes. “I had already given up hope that you would choose the same style I had, but still… the assassin’s style? Really? Are you absolutely sure about this?”

  “Don’t worry, Father,” I reassured him, giving him a light pat on the back. “I have no intention of becoming an assassin or some kind of thug.

  “It’s simply the style that I believe suits me best.”

  Is this his only problem? Seriously?

  I made sure to be as honest as possible. Sugar-coating the pill wouldn’t have made my decision any easier to digest.

  “Then it’s only right that you follow your path,” he sighed one last time. “I’ll make sure to find you a suitable master.”

  I hoped a deep bow would be enough as thanks.

  “Until then, however, I’ll be teaching you the basics of the Dawn style!”

  He gave me a pat on the shoulder.

  “Grab your sword, Arda! I’ll show you which of the three is truly superior!”

  “Yessir!”

  * * *

  He utterly destroyed me.

  If he needed a way to blow off some steam, he could have just asked, I rubbed my sore arm, wincing. Beating your son black and blue doesn’t seem like a particularly recommended activity.

  As if to make things worse, I’d also been informed that we had been officially invited to Ardelar, the capital of the Empire, for some important ceremony.

  I had tried to decline the invitation, but no excuse had been accepted, so I ended up locking myself away in the library, drowning my misery in overly complicated magic theory books.

  With all of our journeys, we had explored pretty much the entirety of the Veldya region, rarely leaving it to pay a visit to some of my parents’ friends.

  Yet, I had never been to Ardelar before.

  This time, however, for the first time ever, Baryon and Lelya would be coming with us as well.

  At least I have someone to talk to if things get boring, I grumbled, mindlessly flipping the pages of a book. I sighed as I put it back at its place.

  It wasn’t like I was particularly introverted, but it took me a long time to feel comfortable enough around people I didn’t know.

  I had occasionally met the children of some nobles—acquaintances of my parents—but they had all been spoiled, arrogant brats. Truly insufferable.

  And so, I had mostly kept to myself. Not that I had ever minded much. I had gotten by just fine.

  But as I grew older, I started to feel the weight of it.

  It was going to be a real challenge, but I would do my best to make some friends.

  After all, adventuring was much more exciting when done in a group.

  The event was scheduled for three days from now, which meant that to ensure we’d be arriving with plenty of time to spare, we would have to leave tomorrow morning.

  I still didn’t get why we couldn’t simply take a teleportation gate from Navar right to Ardelar; either my parents had a stupid obsession with riding carriages or they just loved seeing the world change as they travelled by.

  Either way, getting a decent heads-up had been once again an unattainable dream.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  On the bright side, my parents had arranged for a new suit to be made for the occasion.

  They had told me to consider it an “early birthday gift”, since my thirteenth birthday would fall on one of the days we’d staying in Ardelar.

  Since it was likely that we’d be staying for more than a day, I had better pack some extra clothes and, much more importantly, something to do.

  The city would be undoubtedly interesting, but I had the unshakable feeling we would end up stuck in some grand hall, surrounded by nobles, for far too long.

  And that is not on my to-do list, I snorted, putting down a book with a low thump, which seemed to pull my mind out to the real world.

  Out of the window the sky had long turned dark, and a few stars shimmered weakly, their light overwhelmed by that coming from Shanna, as the elves had used to call the moon in ancient times.

  Slowly closing the library’s door behind me, I wandered the corridors of our manor like a ghost lurking in the dark.

  Unfortunate comparison, I thought as a shiver ran down my spine. This late in the night, the house was eerily quiet, almost frighteningly so.

  Most likely, I was the only one still awake.

  Fortunately, as I approached the east wing of the manor, where my room was, I found a few lighting artifacts still on, which someone had been thoughtful enough not to shut down.

  My room was just as messy as I had left it this afternoon.

  On the bed, neatly placed, was what I assumed to be my birthday gift, a fancy two-piece black suit.

  So cool, I thought to myself, letting out an appreciative soft whistle.

  The silver embroidery that ran along the edges gave it a refined touch.

  It was elegant, and clearly it would stand out at a formal ceremony; though I doubted there would be many other occasions to wear something this fancy.

  But then again, you could never know.

  If everything went according to plan, I hoped to officially set out on adventure before the end of the year, were my parents to actually allow it.

  As I sat down on the bed, fatigue crashed over me all at once, and I fell asleep without even moving the suit aside.

  * * *

  I woke up drenched in sweat.

  The reddish morning light was filtering already through the windows of my room.

  As my hand brushed against something unfamiliar, I flinched in surprise.

  Just the suit, I told myself, though my nerves were still on edge. I could tell I must have had some kind of nightmare, a really unpleasant one, but I wasn’t able to recall precisely what I had been dreaming.

  All I remembered was a fugacious glimpse of a gigantic purple triangle looming over me up in the sky.

  Just the thought of it was enough to send a cold shiver down my spine; goosebumps followed soon after, surfacing on my sweaty arms.

  There was no way I could wear the suit in the poor state I was in.

  Time for breakfast and a warm shower to do their trick, I thought, shutting my eyes for a few seconds to get a hold of myself.

  Stepping out of my room, I spotted Alme; she was already busy with her tasks, even this early in the morning.

  She was flustered to see me up so early, but after taking in my exhausted expression, she must have realized I hadn’t had a good night.

  “If you’d like, breakfast’s ready to be served in the kitchen, young master,” Alme said, offering me one of those warm smiles of hers. “I think Lelya should be up already if you need some company.”

  “Thank you, Alme,” I said with a nod. “If I need anything else, I’ll ask her.”

  She gave a quick bow and hurried back to her work.

  As she had anticipated, a flood of delicious aromas drifted out from the kitchen, lingering in the corridor.

  “May I come in?” I said, taking a peek inside.

  “Master Arda, you’re up already?” Lelya responded, genuinely surprised, as she swiftly closed a book she had been holding.

  I shrugged. “Bad night, I guess.”

  I turned around the central block housing the stoves, sitting next to her. Beside the stoves, about a dozen cookies were cooling down on a blue ceramic tray.

  Many were still steaming profusely, spreading in the air notes of their chocolate-scented dough.

  “What were you reading?”

  “Just a guide on sewing,” she said. A few loose strands of her ash brown hair hid the slightly reddened cheeks behind.

  “That sounds interesting,” I commented, casually leaning forward to reach for a steaming cookie.

  “Yes, very,” she replied absentmindedly, watching my movements. “Be careful with those, I think they’re still—”

  A surprised grunt escaped me as pain shot through my fingertips. The cookie slipped from my hand, landing back on the tray.

  Message received. They’re still scorching hot, I smirked, shaking my hand to cool it down.

  “My apologies, I couldn’t warn you in time,” she said, quickly offering me some cold water. “I still have to adjust to those heating artifacts Lord Damyon had installed.”

  She shot an accusatory look at the stoves in front of us. “They’re handy, but… I often forget how hot they can get, sorry.”

  “Don’t worry, it will get better soon,” I reassured her while taking the glass and dipping my fingers in it.

  The chill water served well to soothe some of the pain away. “Just… pretend I’m not here. I don’t want to bother you this early in the morning,” I added after letting out a relieved sigh.

  “It’s fine, really. I’m used to my brother after all. You won’t outmatch him so easily,” she replied with a half smirk, returning to her book.

  Then, as if realizing how that came off, a flicker of panic crossed her face, and frightened eyes jumped right back at me.

  She hurriedly added, “Not that you normally bother me or anything!”

  I burst out laughing, making her relax a little, though I could tell she was still pretty tense.

  I gave her a few comforting pats on the shoulder.

  I’ve experienced the Rin-Effect firsthand, I mentally chuckled. It would take me a long time even to come close to that.

  “Is he behaving a little better now?” I asked, steering the conversation elsewhere to help her ease up.

  “Yes, actually. He seems to be taking his promise very seriously. I can’t believe he now does pretty much anything I ask him,” she admitted.

  Well, props for me. Getting him in line turned out to be surprisingly easy.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” I said, carefully blowing on a couple of cookies before grabbing them. “Let me know if he causes any more trouble. I’d be happy to have a word with him.”

  She gave a small bow. “Thank you very much, Arda. That would be a great help.”

  “Don’t mention it,” I said, waving her off. “By the way, I heard you’re joining us on our trip to Ardelar.”

  She nodded, her eyes gleaming in a not-so-concealed excitement. “Yes, Lady Ary was so kind asking me to accompany her. I didn’t expect it, honestly. It took me a bit unprepared.”

  “Yeah,” I said as a wry smile tugged on my lips. “Mom tends to do that from time to time, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh, but I don’t mind it,” she clarified. “I’m really glad I’ll be coming with you.”

  While still talking, she got to her feet and began wandering around the kitchen, tidying up whatever she felt was needing it.

  She had kinda developed an obsession with these kinds of things. At this point, I wasn’t even sure she was doing it consciously.

  “Did they tell you what the ceremony is about?” I asked, which seemed to have the effect of snapping her out of her cleaning spree.

  “Y-yes,” she said, blinking a few times. “But your parents begged me not to tell you anything about it. They’re afraid you may not find it interesting and decide to stay at home,” she added with an apologetic look on her face.

  “As if they would let me,” I grumbled. “But I see, thank you Le.”

  Snatching a few more cookies, I waved a quick goodbye and made my way toward the baths.

  A bit of hot water was all I needed to shave my terrible night off.