The morning sun failed to pierce through the thick fog blanketing the Argus estate. Cold winds blew across the marble training fields, where knights clad in glistening silver armor practiced their sword dances, each movement a flawless arc of power and pride. The sounds of blades clashing reverberated through the walls of the nation's palace.
Hidden behind the towering stone walls, a boy sat alone under a dead tree, its bark charred black as if struck by lightning. The boy's hands were blistered, clothes torn, and his wooden sword lay shattered at his side. Azael Argus-Sixteen years old, and yet his eyes, those dull grey eyes-held no youth, no warmth. Only the hollow stare of someone who had learned too early what it meant to be nothing. His hair is dark-as any new moon night could be.
"The heir without light." They called him.
He was the first born of the Argus clan, destined by blood to inherit the might of aura. But while his coevals awakened with auras blazing around their bodies, his was silent. Empty.
"Idiot brother!" a small voice called out from behind him.
He turned slightly, eyes softening for the only person who talks to him first off. Kelly Argus-14 years old, with jet black hair and sharp eyes too clever for her age.
"You skipped breakfast again…" she said, pouting.
He looked away. Silent.
She stood beside him under the tree, "Our…." She waited for a second. "My father is searching for you." She whispered behind his ear, placing one of her hands on his shoulder. His fingers curled, his knuckles turned white. He was angry, but never let it out. He knew she was teasing him.
"Let's pay him a visit then." He replied. His voice flat.
Both of the siblings walked inside the castle. The younger sister left his brother in the middle way to face his father alone.
The young boy is reaching his father's room-the emperor's room. His footsteps echoed in his ears as if he was being haunted by a ghost. The shiny carpet led his way. The weapons and jewels on the walls of the corridor reminded him of the glory of the Argus clan.
A bit later, the boy stood in front of a large door twice as large as him and knocked twice.
"Come in!" the voice hard.
The boy's eyes widened. His body is straight. He knew his father was behind the door but actually seeing the person you fear the most is a different matter. His hands shivered and he wanted to give a run for it. But things would become much worse if he did so.
It's as if his father's tone is enough to tear his body.
Feared, the boy opened the door with one of his hands behind his back showing respect to his father.
Facing him is the strongest person in the world, his father- Victor Argus.
The room is decorated with finely polished diamond and jewelry. In front of the boy is his father-sitting on a chair. He wore a casual white shirt and blue pants. His sword sheathed-sat on a table next to him. It is the first time for the boy, seeing his father unarmed. His long dark hair looks so smooth that made Azael regret his decision of keeping a short hair. He couldn't read his father's expression at all.
Silence.
Azael locked both his hands behind his back and stood in a posture as a soldier ready to receive his mission.
The father-disappointed in his one and only son. He regarded the determination of his kid to become strong as a boon and him being born in a clan which only depends on the sword they swear as a curse.
That was until his daughter showed her authority over the sword. She implemented aura in her blade at the age of 8, which was considered a miracle even among the predecessors of the Argus clan. Since statistically, human beings can start sensing aura at the age of 10.
The affection towards his genius daughter became hatred towards his son. As Victor Argus is a man who considers his pride as the most prestigious thing, the rumors about his son being impotent made his hatred become greater as the time passed.
"Do you know the reason I called you here?" Victor asked, never letting a single emotion out of him.
Silence.
The cub was terrified. He thought that his father was going to scold him whatever the answer he gave.
Victor exhales a deep breath. He wanted to speak about an important thing but he noticed the terrified kid and changed his question.
"Do you know why the power of the aura does not affect our blade when transmitted?"
The boy's eyes darted to his father's feet. Of course, it was too much for his young mind, he was never even given proper education due to the lack of his potential while all the children start their education at the age of 10.
Azael cannot even nod his head in front of his father. He stood there as if he was a statue.
His father took the initiative. He leaned forward.
"Do you know what aura is? It is our swordsmen's embodiment. It is developed from our core. Our heart. Spreading your aura to make a layer above the sword, is a way of transforming your power. Shifting your power to the sword, your embodiment becomes your sword's embodiment. Giving your sword life."
Azael's stiffened shoulder lowered. He nodded as giving a signal to his father to explain more.
Victor continued.
"However, the power transmitted is equivalent to the power of your core. But do not misunderstand it with in-born talent. The matter of how talented you are depends on how much extent you can use your power. The power of your core solely depends on your strength. Your core and strength are what makes you a fine swordsman. Provided how strong a person is, that strong his core can be. Given us-Argus clan members bodies with supreme strength. Our strength is inferior to none, making us use the power of aura to the fullest."
Azael gave a little nod, but wondered why his father was speaking such an important matter at the most random time.
The father wanted to inform more about aura but hesitated since the kid will die sooner anyway.
Yes, Victor wanted his son to be dead. He thought killing him is better since he is dead weight anyway. The innocent kid did not know what was coming for him.
It was a 5-star meal for the kid. Never in his 16 years life, he had talked to his father as a son. During the time Azael was born, his father was on the battleground. And his mother-died giving birth to his sister. Azael could not even remember his childhood memories. He even doubts if his childhood is like any other child he has seen. No happy moments, no celebrations, no wishes. All he knows of is that his father adores his daughter more than anything in the world and all he remembers is how to swing a sword thousands of times a day. Although Azael's sister was brought up the same way as him with the sole exception of his father's kindness, he always wonders what could be the difference between him and his sister that makes her so strong even with a little amount of work.
While Azael was surfing in his thoughts in the middle of the conversation, Victor noticed the now out of fear Azael and coughed a little.
Azael was back to his senses and spoke, "I am sorry for the disturbance, Father. Please continue."