In the years following the great conflict, peace settled over the human race, and Fredericko's family found themselves revered by all for their instrumental role in the fight. Life in Fredericko's household was tranquil, as the boys grew stronger with each passing day. Aethel continued to refine his magical abilities under Elsa's watchful eye, while Thorenz trained relentlessly with Fredericko, honing his swordsmanship and learning to harness the full potential of his superhuman strength.
Elsa, sensing her own waning strength as the years passed, knew that she might not always be there to guide Aethel on his journey. Determined to ensure his continued growth, she prepared a detailed training regimen for him to follow should her health fail.
By the time the boys turned fourteen, their formidable skills had blossomed, and they could navigate the forest with a newfound confidence, no longer fearing the wild creatures that dwelled within. On a fateful afternoon, Elsa observed Aethel's training with a keen eye, while Fredericko ventured into the forest with Thorenz to witness the young man's prowess in battle against dangerous beasts. Thorenz's training had progressed from the use of wooden swords and exercises to facing off against increasingly formidable creatures with a real sword.
In the midst of Thorenz's demonstration, Aethel suddenly burst onto the scene, his face etched with urgency. "Aethel, what is it?" Fredericko asked, his concern mounting.
Struggling to catch his breath, Aethel managed to choke out, "Hush... hush... hush... Grandmother!"
Fredericko's eyes widened in horror as he grasped the gravity of the situation. Without a moment's hesitation, he raced back to the house, the now fourteen-year-old boys following closely behind.
Upon their arrival, they found Elsa sleeping soundly in her room, her strength having finally given out during Aethel's training. Roxanne, her face etched with worry, tended to Elsa as Aethel recounted his desperate dash to fetch his father and brother from the forest.
That night, as the moon hung high in the sky, Aethel silently crept into Elsa's room. The door opened with a gentle creak, and Elsa's voice, weak but steady, called out from within. "Aethel, is that you?"
Aethel carefully closed the door behind him, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. "Yes, Grandmother, it's me," he replied, his voice trembling with emotion.
Kneeling beside Elsa's bed, Aethel felt a wave of frustration wash over him as he took in his grandmother's weakened state. Tears streamed down his face, a relentless torrent that refused to be held back. "Oh, come on, Aethel, don't be sad," Elsa said, her eyes filled with understanding.
"Grandmother, who will train me now?" Aethel asked, his voice thick with concern. "I don't want anything to happen to you."
Elsa smiled, her love for her grandson evident in her eyes. "Thank you, Aethel."
Determination coursed through Aethel's veins as he vowed to find a way to save her. "Grandmother, I will develop a spell that will cure you. I promise. Just hold on a little longer."
Elsa erupted into laughter, but Aethel's face grew serious. "Don't laugh. I will do it!" he insisted.
"Thank you, Aethel," Elsa said, her voice laced with gratitude. "However, I have something to give you, grandson."
"What is it, Grandmother?" Aethel asked, curiosity mingling with the sadness in his voice.
Elsa reached out and took a stone tablet, pressing it into Aethel's hands. "In this tablet, I have written down a training regimen for you to follow. Use it to improve your use of magic. Once you've mastered them all, you will have learned everything I had to teach you."
Aethel's eyes grew wide with realization, and he tried to push the tablet away. "Grandmother, no!" he exclaimed, refusing to accept the implication of her words.
The room fell silent, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of them. After a moment, Elsa spoke once more, her voice barely above a whisper. "Aethel..."
"What is it, Grandmother?" Aethel asked, his heart heavy with dread.
"I've given you a parting gift. Now I want you to give me a parting gift as well," Elsa said, her gaze unwavering.
"Grandmother, where are you going?" Aethel asked, fear creeping into his voice.
"Promise me something," Elsa said, her eyes locked on Aethel's.
"Anything, Grandmother," Aethel replied, willing to do whatever it took to ease her mind.
"Aethel, you are so powerful. Your magic is stronger than mine. Promise me that you will protect your brother and be at peace with him forever!" Elsa pleaded, her words laced with urgency.
Aethel took a deep breath, his resolve strengthening as he made his vow. "I promise, Grandmother."
A sense of relief washed over Elsa's features, and she managed a weak smile. "Thank goodness," she whispered, her eyes closing for the final time as she breathed her last.
Aethel stared at his grandmother's lifeless form, disbelief and horror welling up inside him. "Grandmother?" he called out, shaking her gently, but no response came. "Noooo!" he screamed, his voice echoing throughout the house as his family rushed to the room, awakened by the sound of his anguish.
Elsa's death was peaceful, her heart at ease after securing Aethel's promise to protect his brother and maintain peace between them. In her final moments, she had faced the prophecy with courage and love, doing everything in her power to ensure the safety of her family and the world they called home.
Word of Elsa's passing spread quickly among the human community, and soon, mourners gathered to pay their respects to the beloved matriarch. Fredericko and his family made arrangements for her burial, receiving support and heartfelt condolences from their friends and neighbors. As Elsa's body was lowered into the ground, her family watched with heavy hearts, bidding farewell to the woman who had held them together through countless trials.
Among Fredericko's family, Aethel was hit the hardest by Elsa's death. The memories of their countless training sessions and the wisdom she had imparted weighed heavily on his young heart, her loss leaving a void that seemed impossible to fill.
Two months after Elsa's burial, the family slowly settled back into their daily routines. Fredericko resumed his training with Thorenz, while Aethel poured his energy into studying the stone tablet his grandmother had bequeathed him. With unwavering dedication, Aethel mastered the magical techniques inscribed on the tablet within just three years. But at seventeen, he found himself yearning for more, driven by the desire to become even stronger.
One day, Aethel approached Fredericko and Thorenz, his resolve unwavering. "Father!" he called out, his voice ringing through the air.
Fredericko turned to his son, his brow furrowed in curiosity. "What is it, Aethel?"
"Please," Aethel pleaded, "train me!"
Fredericko's eyes widened in shock, rendered momentarily speechless by his son's request. After a moment, he finally found his voice. "Aethel, have you mastered what your grandmother taught you?"
"Yes, Father," Aethel replied confidently. "I am now ready to learn the way of the sword. I'm certain that I can wield the Oathkeeper's Shadow."
Fredericko remained silent, his gaze troubled as he walked away, leaving Aethel and Thorenz alone in the forest. Aethel called after his father, but Fredericko seemed lost in his own thoughts, refusing to acknowledge his son's pleas.
Aethel turned his attention to Thorenz, his eyes narrowing into a fierce glare.
"What?" Thorenz snapped, taken aback by his brother's sudden hostility. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Fight me!" Aethel demanded, his voice taut with challenge.
Thorenz's eyes widened in disbelief. "Why should I do that?"
"Shut up and fight!" Aethel roared, his anger reaching its boiling point.
"I don't want to do that," Thorenz protested, trying to reason with his brother.
"I said shut up and fight, you coward!" Aethel bellowed, his words tinged with venom.
Thorenz, his patience frayed, lunged at Aethel with his sword. But Aethel's mastery of magic proved too great, as he retaliated with a bolt of lightning that struck Thorenz in the belly, sending him flying through the air.
I'm stronger, Aethel mused, his face contorted with a mixture of satisfaction and anger. I'm faster, I'm the faster learner, and I'm even smarter. Why won't Father train me and let me wield the sword?
Without waiting for an answer, Aethel turned on his heel and stalked out of the forest, leaving Thorenz to nurse the bruises from his brother's attack.
Back at the house, Fredericko sat in a chair as Roxanne busied herself with serving him a meal. As the aroma of the food wafted through the air, they struck up a conversation, their voices mingling with the clinking of plates and cutlery.
"How is Thorenz's training going?" Roxanne asked, her tone laced with curiosity.
"Thorenz is doing exceptionally well," Fredericko replied, his pride evident in his voice. "He's progressing at an impressive rate and growing stronger by the day. His swordsmanship is truly remarkable."
"And what about Aethel?" Roxanne inquired, her brows knitting together with concern.
Fredericko hesitated, mulling over his words before continuing. "Aethel is fine. To be honest, his progress is astounding. He has mastered everything Mother taught him, including the techniques engraved on the tablet. It's hard to believe that at just seventeen, Aethel has become a master of magic. I couldn't be more proud of him. However..."
"However?" Roxanne pressed, her curiosity piqued by Fredericko's trailing words. When he didn't immediately respond, she snapped, "You're scaring me here. Tell me what's wrong."
"Thorenz remains the calm one," Fredericko confided, a troubled look crossing his face. "But Aethel's hunger for power is beyond me. He wants to wield the Oathkeeper's Shadow, adding it to his already formidable magical powers. Then there's the issue of who will inherit the sword. It's all so confusing. I wish Mother were still alive." Fredericko's voice wavered as he shared his concerns, his love for his family evident in every word. "Mother once said that in the wrong hands, the sword could bring about great ruin."
Roxanne nodded solemnly, placing a plate of food on the table before her husband. "That's true. But I know you'll make the right choice when the time is right."
Fredericko offered her a grateful smile, his spirits lifted by her faith in him. "Thanks," he said, his gratitude genuine as he began to eat his meal.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the land, an elderly man found himself trapped beneath a heavy stone, unable to move. Panic washed over him as he heard the menacing growls of three lions drawing ever closer. Bracing himself for the worst, the old man closed his eyes, accepting his seemingly inevitable fate.
Unbeknownst to him, Aethel had caught wind of the unfolding danger and rushed to the scene. With the flick of his wrist, he utilized his magical abilities to lift the massive stone from atop the old man, hurling it towards the lions with astounding force. The projectile managed to take down one of the beasts, causing the remaining two to flee in terror, vanishing into the dense forest.
"Are you alright?" Aethel asked, gently assisting the trembling man to his feet and escorting him back to his home.
"Thank you, Aethel," the old man said, gratitude emanating from his every word. "You're just as strong as your father."
Aethel's heroics quickly became the talk of the town, his name praised and admired by all who heard of his deeds. This wasn't the first time he had saved someone from peril; even before Elsa's passing, he had made a habit of stepping up in times of need. His bravery and compassion had earned him the love and respect of the entire community.
As he made his way home, the adulation ringing in his ears, Aethel couldn't help but ponder his father's favoritism towards Thorenz. I'm more famous than Thorenz, he thought to himself. I'm more powerful, stronger, faster, and a faster learner. So why does Father choose to train him instead of me?
Aethel's thoughts swirled with confusion and frustration as he approached his home. Upon seeing Thorenz, he fixed him with a piercing glare.
"Aethel, what is it?" Thorenz asked, unnerved by the intensity of his brother's gaze. "Why do you always look at me like that?"
"Tell me," Aethel demanded, his voice barely audible.
"Tell you what?" Thorenz replied, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Why did Father choose you over me?" Aethel asked, his pain and confusion laid bare. "I've thought about it over and over, and I just don't understand."
Thorenz pondered his brother's question, doing his best to provide some insight. "I'm not entirely sure, but I believe Father loves us both. I don't think he's playing favorites."
"That's a lie!" Aethel retorted, his frustration mounting. "If he loved us both, he would've trained us both. But he chose you."
Before Thorenz could respond, Roxanne's voice called out, "Both of you, dinner is ready! Go and eat, now!"
"Okay, Mother," Thorenz said, turning to head inside.
Left alone with Aethel, Roxanne stopped him before he could follow his brother. "Aethel, your father loves you both. He would never choose between you and your brother."
Aethel turned to face his mother, his eyes brimming with hurt. "Mother, I'm not a kid anymore. If he truly loves me, he should train me like he trains Thorenz. A father's love should be given to all his children, not just one."
With that, Aethel made his way into the house, leaving Roxanne to consider his words as the weight of his pain hung heavy in the air.
Two years later, Fredericko found himself traversing the mountainside, his heart swelling with pride as the townsfolk continued to sing the praises of Aethel's heroics. Now a master of magic, the young man had devoted his considerable skills to ensuring the safety of those around him. No longer seeking his father's guidance, he ventured out to protect the people, each act of bravery earning him more adoration and respect.
Upon returning home, Fredericko was greeted by Thorenz, now a strapping nineteen-year-old, eager to update him on the goings-on within their household. "Welcome, Father," Thorenz said warmly.
"Thank you," Fredericko replied, his eyes searching the surroundings. "Where are your mother and brother?"
"Mother is preparing a meal for us," Thorenz answered. "As for Aethel, I haven't a clue. He comes and goes as he pleases these days, rarely informing us of his whereabouts."
Fredericko's expression turned serious, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Go and fetch him."
Thorenz made to protest, but Fredericko cut him off. "I don't recall asking for your opinion, young man."
Chastened, Thorenz turned to leave, only to be stopped once more by his father. "You might need this," Fredericko said, tossing a sheathed sword to Thorenz.
Catching the sword, Thorenz thanked his father and set off into the forest in search of his brother. As he ventured deeper into the woods, he stumbled upon a storehouse, its secrets concealed behind worn walls and a heavy door.
Thorenz hid himself near the entrance, careful not to attract attention as he peered inside. To his horror, he discovered a group of thugs, their weapons glinting menacingly in the dim light. Aethel was bound to a pole, his body bloodied and bruised, his once-proud face now swollen and caked with dirt. Three others – a young lady, a middle-aged woman, and a middle-aged man – were similarly bound and held captive.
Thorenz's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the scene before him. How had these thugs managed to overpower his brother, who possessed such formidable magical powers? There was no time to dwell on the question, though, as the urgency of the situation pressed down upon him. He knew he had to act quickly to save the captives.
Steeling himself for the fight to come, Thorenz tightened his grip on the sword Fredericko had entrusted to him, his resolve unwavering as he devised a plan to rescue his brother and the others.
Inside the storehouse, the thugs continued to taunt Aethel, their cruel words echoing off the walls. Oblivious to the danger lurking just beyond their sight, they took turns mocking the young man, delighting in his apparent helplessness.
"Hey, spoilt brat," one thug sneered. "Without your magical powers, you're nothing. Just a weak, pathetic waste of space."
Another joined in, their words dripping with disdain. "It's hard to believe you have the blood of the legendary hero flowing through your veins. What a disappointment you turned out to be."
As they reveled in Aethel's misery, one of the thugs noticed Thorenz's presence, causing the others to fall silent. Their leader, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere, shot a questioning look at his underling.
"What's wrong?" the leader demanded, his voice a rough whisper.
The thug who had spotted Thorenz motioned for his leader to be quiet, his eyes locked on the young man lurking in the shadows.
"Whoever you are," the thug called out to Thorenz, his tone laced with false bravado, "I'll say this once. Respect yourself and come out."
With ten thugs waiting inside the storehouse, Thorenz knew the odds were stacked against him. Nevertheless, he stepped out of the shadows, his sheathed sword hanging at his waist as he met their gazes with steely resolve.
Aethel's eyes widened in shock as he recognized his brother. "Thorenz? What are you doing here?" he whispered, disbelief and concern etched on his face.
The leader of the thugs let out a malevolent chuckle, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Ah, the hero's second son. You've come to rescue your brother, I see. Today is my lucky day."
Thorenz's expression hardened as he stared down the thug. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I think you'll find this is your unlucky day."
The leader and his underlings broke into uproarious laughter, their mockery bouncing off the storehouse walls.
In a flash, Thorenz spat out a tiny pin from his mouth, the small projectile piercing the leader's neck and rendering him unconscious. The laughter died abruptly as the remaining thugs tensed, their eyes locked on the young man standing before them.
"It would be a waste to use my sword against the likes of you," Thorenz declared, his voice cold and unwavering as he took a defensive stance. "My hands and feet will be more than enough. Zero Sword Style."
All nine thugs charged at Thorenz, their rage fueling their attacks. Thorenz dodged the first two, kicking them with enough force to send them crashing to the ground. He then pivoted, landing three devastating blows to the faces of the next four assailants. As the penultimate thug launched himself at Thorenz, the young man swiftly headbutted the attacker's nose, breaking it with a sickening crunch. The final two thugs attempted to land a coordinated punch, but Thorenz deftly evaded their attacks, causing them to collide with each other instead.
"I'll forgive you this once," Thorenz warned as the thugs scrambled to their feet, fear evident in their eyes. "But if you ever attack my brother again, I won't hesitate to kill you."
Terror coursing through their veins, the thugs fled in different directions, their earlier bravado replaced by abject fear. With the threat neutralized, Thorenz swiftly released Aethel and the other captives, relief washing over their faces as they stumbled to freedom.
As the dust settled within the storehouse, Thorenz and Aethel made their way back home together
The journey home was marked by a heavy silence, the weight of recent events pressing down on both Aethel and Thorenz. As they navigated the familiar path, the air seemed to thicken with tension, neither brother daring to break the silence.
Finally, Thorenz spoke up, his voice slicing through the stillness. "Aethel, how did those small fries manage to kidnap you? Why didn't you fight them with your magical powers?"
Aethel's diamond-like eyes glinted in the fading light, his resolve unwavering. "I don't need to rely on my powers to prove that I'm stronger than you. I'll show Father that I'm the better choice, and he'll have no choice but to train me in the way of the sword."
Thorenz's irritation flared at his brother's words. "Are you stupid?" he snapped, his tone laced with frustration.
Aethel bristled at the insult. "What did you say?"
"You heard me," Thorenz said, his voice rising. "What's wrong with you? We were both born with unique qualities. Grandmother told me that I'm special in my own way, and so are you. Why can't you see that?"
Aethel's frustration boiled over. "Easy for you to say when you can take down those thugs without even using your sword."
Thorenz's patience frayed, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Get the point already, idiot! Look at yourself – you inherited Grandmother's powers and even her diamond-like eyes. I'm sure there's untapped potential hidden within them. If you weren't so stubborn, you could've easily defeated those guys with your magic. I might not have been blessed with magical powers, but I inherited Father's superhuman strength. That's probably why he's chosen not to train you, just like Grandmother didn't train me because I lacked magic. It doesn't mean he hates you, Aethel. Grow up!"
As Thorenz's words hung in the air, the brothers continued their journey in silence. But even as the landscape blurred past them, Thorenz's impassioned plea echoed in Aethel's mind, the truth behind his brother's words sinking in with each step.