“Daddy, what’s for breakfast?” Mila asked as I swung her arm up and down.

“Mmm, who knows? If I had to guess, it’s probably fish again,” I answered with a hum.

“I like the fish,” Mila said with a toothy smile.

I smiled and said, “I do as well.”

The two of us bid farewell to Adria and Tris, and we just took the long way back to the royal villa. The area that encompassed the “royal villa” was just a small section of a much larger district that housed dozens and dozens of homes for various nobles and officials. That meant there were plenty of small parks and paths off the main road that one could simply meander through.

And that was what Mila and I were doing, just walking slowly, hand in hand, down a random side path adjacent to a garden. Our destination was roughly the royal villa, but we were in no hurry whatsoever. It was peaceful.

“Who were those ladies, Daddy?” Mila asked.

“You met Adria before. She’s the one with brown hair,” I told her.

Mila looked up at the sky thoughtfully and asked, “The nice flower lady?”

I cocked my head to the side and repeated back, “The nice flower lady?”

“She smells like flowers,” Mila said simply.

Flowers, huh? Is Mila smelling her magic or something? No…that’s silly…Adria does use floral perfume, and she is around plants, so I suppose a “flowery” smell might persist on her, although I didn’t notice anything special.

“She’s very nice,” Mila added after some time.

“Yes, she is very nice,” I agreed with a nod.

Mila slowly turned her head and looked up at me with big blue eyes and asked, “But why was the mean one there? She’s mean.”

“I…I wouldn’t call her mean, Mila. She’s a friend. A friend that was just a little confused and angry, rightfully so at that,” I explained.

Mila blinked once, then twice. “Why do Daddy’s friends always hurt Daddy?”

“Tha—” I trailed off as my mind went blank.

I wanted to refute it and explain the nuisance of it all, but Mila was just a child. And to be completely fair, she was also completely right. I truly seemed to get into a lot of…painful endeavors with those I would call friends.

So…how do I do this?

“Well, it’s a mutual thing? We hurt each other most of the time, but it’s because we are friends that things don’t get any more serious. We do it to make each other stronger,” I said with a nod.

Mila looked away lightly and mumbled, “So Daddy hurts his friends, so his friends get stronger?”

Wait, no…that’s not what I meant. I mean, it’s not wrong, but that is definitely a misunderstanding that is about to brew.

“Mila, sweety, that’s not okay. You shouldn’t hurt your friends without understanding things or talking to them first. It would only lead to troub—”

My head snapped toward the sound of men shouting off in the distance. It wasn’t new to hear loud voices in the area, but what was concerning was where those loud shouts were originating from.

The front gate? Is something happening?

Those frantic shouts died down as Mila took a step forward, and her little cheetah ears flicked around. The sound of heavily armored boots stomping against the ground as a group of men ran full tilt toward the royal villa.

I scooped Mila up, placed her on my shoulders, and sprinted toward the main road. “Faster! Daddy faster!” as she giggled, pulling on my hair.

It would have been adorable, but I had a sinking feeling in my gut something was wrong. One guard was enough to warn of an impending or unforeseen problem to the appropriate higher up. Three guards being sent to find three different people was a clear sign of a problem that couldn’t be solved by your average gate guard.

I broke through the bushes and onto the main crowd. People were moving about quickly and frantically, and things only escalated as a squad of men wearing golden armor sprinted toward the gate with mana-enhanced steps.

I quickly put Mila down on the ground and took a knee in front of her, looking her directly in the eyes, and told her, “Mila, run to your mother to show everyone just how fast you are. You have to run as quickly as you can and go straight into her room, okay?”

“I can run!? Okay!” she shouted excitedly, completely oblivious to her surroundings.

She didn’t even look back or ask another question of why. She just started running.

“Good, now let’s see what the problem is.”

—

Captain Fairchild’s POV.

Damn. This is not what I needed this morning…

“You are to turn your men around, Chaplain Mamur. This is an order,” I repeated.

“This is not a request, Captain. I am here on a holy mission to recover a lost artifact that is of the utmost importance to my faith. You will not hinder my movement or my divine assignment,” Chaplain Mamur stated with zealous conviction.

I sprinted all the way here the moment word reached my ears. It was so unbelievable I thought the report was someone’s idea of a sick joke. And it just so happened to have been on the day I got no sleep…truly unfortunate.

The man that was in front of me was no simple chaplain, nor was his thirty-some-odd men a group of simple priests. It was a detachment of paladins, all of them soldiers capable of wielding blades and magic to the highest degree. If my group of five men and the guards and I were to engage them, we would undoubtedly suffer great losses. My life would all but be forfeit.

Even so, my duty compels me. I don’t fear death or these “holy” men.

I unsheathed my sword and pointed it at the chaplain. “You and your men are not permitted access to these grounds. Turn around immediately or face the consequences of your actions. This is your final warning.”

In response, the detachment of heavily armored paladins unsheathed their weapons of choice. Bloodlust rolled through the previously quiet grounds as the tensions rose to their maximum.

“Do you truly intend to stop me?” Chaplain Mamur questioned, his eyes alit with madness.

This man…does he intend to die here? Sure, I will perish eventually, but I can, and I will cut him down first. This fool doesn’t seem to even be on official business…not even the Holy Kingdom is this fanatical.

But it wouldn’t be the first time they threw a group of men under the carriage.

I lowered my stance in response, prepared to put all my strength into a single slice aimed at his head. That was until an overwhelming bloodlust erupted from behind us. I felt choked as my heart had suddenly stopped in my chest.

Chaplain Mamur and his men even faltered. I had been on the battlefield since I was young. I had faced off against man and monster alike.

But this…this was something entirely different.

A single set of footsteps cooly and calmly walked up to us. I didn’t dare take my eyes off the man in front of me as not to die a miserable death to a surprise attack. Or at least, that was what I was going to tell myself.

“Captain Fairchild, it appears there is something going on here. Would you mind explaining who these men are to me?” a familiar voice said from behind me.

Kaladin…Shadowheart? Is this the bloodlust of such a young man? How…how is that possible? But if it’s him…

"Me—”

“Oh! Here I was just running around in the morning, and we have visitors, haha!” a hearty voice chuckled from in front of me.

I looked up slightly, and towering over even the tallest of the paladins was His Majesty. I hadn’t even heard or sensed him. I couldn’t decide what was more frightening, the fact that someone that large could sneak around unnoticed or the man who slayed a Dragon behind me.

King Maxwell put his hand on the nearest paladin’s shoulder and looked down at him. The Paladin was shaking so hard his armor rattled with each movement.

The king’s ear-to-ear smile faded away into an empty expression and, in a deep voice, ordered, “Move.”

The group of paladins parted as His Majesty walked down the center of them, seemingly without a care in the world. It was surreal and nerve-racking. As a guard, I should have felt immense shame in allowing my liege to walk amongst armed and hostile enemies, but the truth was…

Nobody that strong needed protecting.

King Maxwell rolled his shoulders and licked his lips as he stood behind Chaplain Mamur. “I heard you are yapping about some kind of mission or something, is that right? But I believe Captain Fairchild ordered you to leave…are you just not aware that his words are mine?”

“N—no, Your Majesty, I am here—”

“So you are just asking to die, is that it? Shouldn’t you just go kill yourself somewhere else?” King Maxwell interrupted.

“I have no intentions of dying,” Chaplain Mamur responded, almost stuttering over his words.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The king smiled softly and lowered his head so he was almost touching Chaplain Mamur. “Does that mean you think you can kill me?”

Sweat dripped down Chaplain Mamur’s face. His early fervor washed away as he was now as white as the cloth on his armor. He looked ready to pass out and made no immediate moves to respond to His Majesty's provocation.

After some time with no response, King Maxwell slowly raised himself and looked over his shoulder with a grin. He patted Chaplain Mamur on the shoulder and walked past him as he said, “If not, then run back to your little church and have your addled brain mended by someone trustworthy. Because the next time I see your face in this kingdom will be the last time anyone sees it in the world.”

“Now! Kaladin, you look hungry. Shall we eat breakfast again today!?" His Majesty said with a thunderous laugh.

“Yes, let’s,” Kaladin said simply as the bloodlust disappeared at that moment.

I’m getting too old for this, I’m afraid…

—

Kaladin Shadowheart’s POV.

The ordeal with the paladins from the Holy Kindom was not what I expected. I was listening in from a distance and heard they wanted their artifact back. I figured it was just a group of overly zealous idiots trying to make it big, and it seemed I was correct, as they had no official business with Lumianr.

Basically, they were on a suicide mission. Surely they didn’t believe they could take the artifact by force? Or was it the Holy Kingdom’s way of testing the waters? Who knows?

Regardless, I was prepared to annihilate the closely packed group of men if need be, but that event never came to pass. Instead, I enjoyed breakfast with Bishop and my family like any other day and went to the stadium to prepare for Sylvia’s match.

She is slated to face off against Terstus, and she seems a bit too excited…

“Hey, if I break his arms a few times, you won’t get mad at me, right?” Sylvia asked sweetly.

“If you need to do that to win, then I’m not going to stop you, nor will I be mad,” I said with a shrug.

A slight smile spread her lips. “Good. That’s good. I just wanted to make sure.”

Yeah, she is going to break Terstus’s arms, isn’t she?

I sighed and wished her good luck on her match. I headed up to the arena, and I sat with my family in the assigned section for Forward University’s active contestants, which gave us some breathing room from the public.

The show quickly moved on, and Sylvia was the first to get out the gate. The crowd roared her name and she waved to everyone with a dashing smile. After she stood in her designated spot, it was Terstus’s turn. However, after the announcer called him out and the doors opened for him.

Terstus never came out.

—

“This is crap! Why did that bastard run away?! Was he that afraid to face me?” Sylvia grumbled from beside me.

We had no idea where Terstus went or why he didn’t show up for his match. I had a hard time believing it was because of nerves. No, the last few days have been wrought with unforeseen things. None of them were good…

Either way, I had to put that to the side for the time being, as it was Tsarra versus Dillian Stav from Sandervile. It was obvious who I wanted to win. As a friend and family member, I wanted Tsarra to crush Dillian Stav into dust and go as far as she could in the tournament to fulfill her goal as much as possible.

However, I was also somewhat conflicted about that. If Tsarra won, I would face her in the next match, which was something I didn’t want to do, considering how serious things were. But on the flip side…

To complete Queen Maxwel’s plans in the most efficient way, I would need to face Dillian as well. Sigh, the conflict of interest was quite the predicament. Well, whatever.

And the person next to me was a bundle of nerves.

Varnir was lunging around the royal villa, enjoying his vacation to the fullest. I caught him sleeping in for as long as possible, gorging on whatever food he could get his hands on, and not shying away from dessert at all. I envied his dedication to his rest, that was for sure.

Yet now that it was time for Tssara to fight, he couldn’t sit still.

“If you shake your leg any faster, you might catch mine on fire,” I said light-heartedly.

Varnir stopped in an instant, looked me dead in the eyes, and asked me seriously, “Really? That can happen?”

“…no…I don’t think so,” I mumbled back.

“Good, that’s good,” he muttered to himself like a lost man and continued to shake his leg.

So much for trying to lighten the mood, I guess I still have a way to go, huh?

“Now we welcome the young and future noble knight of Sandervile, Dillian Stav!” the announcer’s voice boomed.

“Noble? In what world? I’ve seen monsters more noble than him,” Sylvia grunted, taking her frustration out on whoever caught her eye.

Although I did have to admit I snickered a little. But I caught my brother watching me and rained it in as best as I could. Had to set an example and all that…even if I agreed with Sylvia wholeheartedly.

Dillian and Tsarra walked to the center of the arena as per usual. It was impossible to hear the conversation over the roar of the crowd, but it appeared that Dillian was saying something, only for Tsarra to nod at the referee and walk back to her position.

Being scorned so openly, Dillian spat on the ground on the way back to his starting spot. The referee, who just happened to be from Luminar today, looked less than pleased, but there were no grounds for disqualification based on attitude. With the final checks prepared, the referee raised his hand and dropped it, signaling the start of the fight.

Tsarra raised her staff into the air to summon the torrent of water once more, but something happened. All of a sudden, Tsarra jolted back, only for a line of blood to be drawn into the air and fall to the ground. It was her blood; Tsarra had been sliced in the stomach, and it was no shallow wound.

That was no illusion, that’s real. What was that? Magic? A sword from nowhere? How? There was no spell core.

Varnir let out a gasp as the both of us stood from our seats. Blood dripped down from Tsarra’s wounds and onto the stone platform as Dillian ran forward at full speed. She desperately tried to stem the flow of blood leaking out from her with her free hand, and she fired off a Lightning Bolt in an attempt to slow Dillian down, but it wasn’t enough.

Tsarra just couldn’t focus as she continued to bleed out, and her Lighting Bolt missed entirely. Dillian’s sword quickly cut down the torrent of water that followed next, and within a few more steps, he was already on top of her.

“Tsarra! Run out of bounds now!” Varnir shouted over the crowd, his voice laced with dread.

But his words fell on deaf ears as the crowd roared in approval at the bloodshed, their momentary confusion wholly gone. Dillian kicked forward at the prone Tsarra, and an illusion shimmered out of existence. He swung his sword only for another illusion to break.

This time, it was the real Tsarra, and her staff was cut in half. She hadn’t made it far enough away and was sent backward by the blow. She dragged herself up and over the arena floor. The wounds showed no signs of stopping as crimson blood continued to flow out from her.

Dillian showed no signs of letting her get away as he kicked her straight in the stomach with his armored boot, right in the same spot his invisible weapon had cut her. He kicked Tsarra over and over again—each time his foot connected, it sent a spray of blood with it.

Varnir lurched forward, and I had to grab him by the collar and force him down. It angered me as well. I wanted to rush onto that field and kill him myself. Rules be damned. But Tsarra was the one who did not surrender. I didn’t know why she didn’t. I didn’t understand what her goal was. But she was clearly trying to struggle toward it, which made it all the more depressing to witness.

Technically, Dillian was not breaking any rules. There was nothing stating one had to be kind or let an opponent surrender if they were injured. I grit my teeth in frustration and taste blood in my mouth. I suppressed any bloodlust that attempted to leak from me as I watched Dillian stab Tsarra in the leg.

I heard her scream loud and clear as it echoed off the stadium walls. The audience that was enjoying the bloody match at first went entirely silent. Now, all of a sudden, they didn’t find the spectacle too enjoyable.

Dillian was about to kick Tsarra again when she finally mustered the strength to extend a hand and blast a torrent of water out. The wave forced Dillian to swing his sword, which cut off Tsarra’s hand, but the sheer force and volume of the water pushed the two apart.

Tsarra rode the wave and nearly escaped off the platform, but Dillian was hot on her tail. “Where do you think you’re going?!” he shouted.

As Tsarra was about to hit the ground, Dillian managed to stab her through the back and out the chest. Blood splattered across the ground, and Varnir let out a scream I had never heard from him before.

“Sylvia! Go!” I shouted quickly.

There was a crack, then a gust of wind as Sylvia put all her strength into her legs and leaped onto the arena floor. Tsarra had lost, and now she needed medical attention. She wasn’t dead, but waiting was not an option.

You’ll pay for this, Dillian.

—

Tsarra Tel’an’duth’s POV.

My eyes flickered open, and I let out a gasp as I clutched my chest. I looked down and patted myself over and over again, but no matter how hard I checked, there was no sword sticking out of me. I held my stomach, and to my relief, there was no wound there either.

My body ached and felt sluggish, so I just let myself melt into the soft bed. Even while lying down, I felt dizzy and tired, and my heart was thumping against my chest. But that was a good thing. That meant…that meant I was still alive. No, it wasn’t a good thing…I shouldn’t even be here!

Damn! I lost, and I don’t even know how! What was that?! I was so close! Just to lose to something I couldn’t see!

Tears filled my eyes, and my aching body and momentary fear of death gave way to anguish. I felt embarrassed, but more than that, I felt defeated. All the things I had sacrificed these last few months, all the people I missed, and the goal I wanted to achieve the most vanished in a matter of minutes. I did all of this…I tried so hard just to fail so pathetically in the end.

How—how am I supposed to face him now after I’ve been ignoring him? They won’t ever let me be with him. I—this was my chance, and this is how it ends…

I furiously wiped the tears from my face, but the more I did that, the more I cried. And the more I cried, the more tired I got. I felt like a child that didn’t get their way, which only served to make me feel even worse.

I blinked again and realized that I had cried myself to sleep. Or maybe it was just a nap? I couldn’t tell at all. I looked around, and I was alone again in an unfamiliar room with tons of beds lined up. It seemed that not much time had passed, so maybe I just passed out momentarily.

The only thing I recognized in the room was the flag of Luminar, and with a quick deduction, it meant that I was still in the infirmary, and for some reason, I was on the Luminar side.

Did…did someone save me? I don’t remember anything after being stabbed in the back. I must have blacked out the second I hit the ground and—

I gasped and put a hand over my mouth to silence myself as a crippling fear assaulted my mind. Out of practice and instinct, I shrouded myself in an illusion, calmed my breathing, and disappeared from the world. That was what I did best.

That was how I survived. I just needed not to be there, and everything would be okay. It didn’t matter who or what it was. I could hide from them.

Just don’t get noticed. Just don’t get noticed. Just don’t get noticed. Just don’t get noticed. Just don’t get noticed. Just don’t get noticed.

I heard the door to the room open, and somebody dragged a chair across the stone floor. I didn’t dare move or adjust my illusion. My heart, despite the fear from the overwhelming bloodlust, was as steady as could be. I had practiced this for all my life. I could go unnoticed by even my own father.

I felt their intense gaze look down at me before they sat down in the chair with a thump. Then, they started talking in a language I never heard before. But it was a voice I was familiar with. It confused me, but that was that. I could sit like this for hours if need be.

Finally, after mumbling to himself for a while, Kaladin spoke in his normal voice. “I’m sorry, Tsarra…if only I had paid more attention…if I wasn’t so full of myself and just watched a single one of his matches, I may have caught it, and this would have never happened. I can only hope you will forgive me for this.”

Naturally, I did not respond to him, but I wanted to tell him that it was okay and that it wasn’t his fault. I know I said that I could hide from anyone, but that wasn’t completely true. It seemed like there was one person who could always find me. Even before Kaladin got his new Dragon eye, I felt that he always knew I was there, even if he didn’t react.

It was like his eyes were all-knowing….and sometimes that terrified me, even though I knew it was wrong…Kaladin wasn’t terrifying yet…

Kaladin sighed in the silent room and stood up from his chair. He dragged it back to its place. I listened to his footsteps as they closed in on me, the fear still gripping my heart. From the corner of my eye, I could see his face. His cold eyes looked down at me.

“I’ll make sure that he regrets this. Nobody will ever do this to my family or to you again, Tsarra. That’s a promise.”