The sun was dying. Finally.
I leaned back under the perfect shadow of the old oak, feeling the day's heat retreat, leaving a soft breeze and the scent of dry earth. From this little hill, the view of the sunset was majestic, as if the sky had caught fire just for my enjoyment. If anyone saw me now, with my golden hair and blue eyes... they'd probably think I was the little prince of some tale. Which, technically, wasn't entirely incorrect, though the title came with far too many boring requirements.
The main requirement now was dinner.
"Hmm... I wonder what the old man will cook today," I mumbled, scratching my nose. The hope was that it would be meat. The probability was that it would be bland porridge.
Beside me, my wooden sword, the constant companion my father forced me to carry, rested uselessly against the trunk. I flopped down onto the grass, stretching out my arms. I felt sleep, heavy and sweet. Five more minutes, and I'd be completely asleep. Today's escape plan was excellent: get out of the house before breakfast and disappear until it was too dark for the old man to bother looking for me.
Just as my consciousness began to falter and peace settled in...
"TEOOOOOOO!!!"
The scream. It pierced the silence like a fiery spear, making even the air vibrate. Noise. Annoyance.
I jumped to my feet, flooded with the adrenaline of usual panic.
"Tch, that old man found me. Doesn't he ever have better things to do, does he?"
I could see him in the distance, at the foot of the hill. He had a scowl and that "disgrace to the lineage" face he always reserves for me. His frustration was obvious, and his impatience, an imminent danger.
I tried to buy time, maybe slip down the other side of the hill... I didn't get the chance. My mind barely processed the idea when the old man became a blur. He moved ridiculously fast, an unnecessary display of power. Before I could even breathe, he was standing in front of me.
"Shi—"
He didn't let me finish. The fist, the wooden sword, whatever it was, lunged at me.
Bang!
I raised my own sword by sheer instinct, barely blocking it. The impact felt like being hit by a moving tree trunk. The blow sent me flying. I felt the pathetic sensation of floating for a few seconds before I violently crashed into the foliage of some nearby trees. The air was knocked out of my lungs.
"Argghh! Damn it! Hey! Are you trying to kill me?! I'm your son, dammit!" I complained, dragging myself out of the leaves, trying to stand up.
The old man approached. He had the same stupid golden hair as me, but his eyes were dark and serious, devoid of the fun or light in mine. His gaze irritated me.
"Idiot! I told you to call me Father," he snapped, giving me an unnecessary smack on the back of my neck.
"Besides, don't complain. That was my weakest attack. If you could die from that, you'd be a disgrace to my lineage," he added, the phrase he had repeated since I could remember.
Then, he simply picked me up. He threw me over his shoulder like a sack and began to descend the hill with long, inexorable strides.
"Listen, Teo. You are an Aethelgard, so you must be strong. So don't run away from training again. Otherwise, I will hit you harder."
The sermon began, as always. I surrendered, hanging limply. Too accustomed to this punishment.
After what felt like an hour, I squirmed, fed up.
"Tch. With my talent, I don't need to train. I'm better than everyone, old man, so put me down! I can walk by myself!" I complained, trying to slip away.
His frown deepened. He didn't release me; he held me tighter, cutting off the circulation.
"Listen, you idiot. Talent isn't enough to maintain the family legacy and exterminate the scum. You must know how to fight..."
The lecture continued. "Legacy." "Scum." "Discipline." I tuned out. I watched as we reached the village. The stupid villagers, greeting the old man with respect, bowing to him. He, the great War Hero, the head of the Aethelgard family. He ignored the greetings, too busy with my re-education.
We walked to the end of the village, where the House stood. It wasn't a house; it was a small stone fortress, set apart and larger than the rest.
Finally, we arrived. The old man headed for the entrance. We crossed the archway. There it was. The Training Yard. My prison.
And, of course, it wasn't empty.
Elias. The firstborn, the one going to the Academy, the "Star Genius." He was fifteen and immersed in his practice, every movement so tiresomely perfect and serious. My same golden hair, but with an expression so rigid he looked like stone.
And, on the bench, the little know-it-all. Caelus. Nine years old, eyes fixed on Elias, notebook in hand. He's smart, yes, too smart, but he's a bookworm. Shy to the point of incommunicativeness.
The old man threw me onto the ground.
"We're here! Get up already."
I stood up, shaking off the grass. My shoulder throbbed.
Elias stopped his sword.
"Father, did Teo run away from training again?" he asked, in that calm, superior voice that annoyed me so much.
Caelus got up from the bench. He walked with tiny steps, not looking at me.
"Mm, Brother, are you alright?" he murmured, his voice a thread due to shyness.
"I'm fine, and Elias, stop talking. I don't need to train to be better than you," I retorted, feeling the rage of the injustice. It wasn't a lie; I knew it.
The old man ignored my reply, looking at Elias.
"Yes. Your younger brother's lack of discipline is... exasperating."
Elias nodded, sheathing his sword with a satisfying shink. He looked at me with utter disdain.
"You're just a lazy idiot, Teo."
My father looked at me. The sentence.
"And as for you, Teo... Your punishment is simple. You will train until dinner. If you pass out, I will wake you up. If you run away, the punishment will be doubled."
Elias and Caelus didn't even look at me as they walked past. They simply followed my father into the house. Caelus, the mouse, and Elias, the robot.
My eyes widened in pure horror.
"What?! But I can barely move my arm! Old man, you can't do this to me!" I shouted.
But it was useless. The heavy wooden door had closed, leaving me alone to my doom. I was lost.