Vis Potentia: Beginnings of Ascendancy

Episode 1

THUNK!

In the sunlit courtyard, the sound of wood hitting wood rang out. Each crack sent a tingle up Damien's hands, even through his leather gloves. Birds took flight from a nearby tree, disturbed by the noise.

Sir Boreas, a well-dressed man, reminded. "You need to keep your shoulders square, young master." His age was evident only through the graying strands on his balding head.

SWISH!

Damien's wooden sword cut through the air, missing Sir Boreas's shoulder by inches. Another swing and a block. The vibrations returned, stronger this time.

Damien lunged forward, his wooden sword aimed straight at Sir Boreas's chest. Sir Boreas sidestepped, making Damien miss his mark and fall onto the soft grass

"Young master, always remember: though magic has its strength, handling a sword and proper techniques have saved far more lives." He paused, ensuring the gravity of his words settled in the child's mind. "Vis, the energy that flows through our land and its chosen ones, is a gift. Like all gifts, it can be a double-edged sword. It's not only about wielding it, but understanding and controlling it." Sir Boreas motioned for Damien to continue.

Damien's eyes shone with the tales of old as he protested, "I've heard the stories! The great Grandmaster Knights of history who could command the winds, summon fire, heal with a mere touch, all because of Vis!"

Sir Boreas nodded, "Yes, those stories are true. But remember, every Knight who mastered Vis also trained with the sword, the bow, and their minds. Vis is an extension of oneself, not a replacement for skill or wisdom."

"Watch me!"

Damien brushed himself off. Jumped back, and held the wooden sword now with both hands, letting out a stern, exaggerated yell.

"Yay!!!" A young blonde girl, who had been watching with wide eyes, cheered. "Mom, he's the best!" she boasted arms raised high.

"Clara, you bet I am!" Damien declared, raising his sword in the air, his chest puffing out with pride.

Lady Elora Dawnfire sighed, her eyes the pure embodiment of a mother's constant worry. "Oh, Damien, Clara, you've upset little Ethan." She rocked the young child in her lap, humming a lullaby that had been family through generations.

Cidny, a maid in her early twenties, had been with the Dawnfire family since her teens. Her bond with them was deeper than service. With her hair braided in the traditional southern style, she hurried over. She offered a comforting hand to Lady Elora and little Ethan. She looked at him, her eyes widening and deepening, as if trying to reach into his very soul. In search of the source of his discomfort.

"Sorry, Mommy..." the siblings mumbled together, their eyes downcast.

As the children's playful energy waned, the atmosphere in the courtyard grew more somber. Sir Boreas, wiping sweat from his brow, said, "Damien, let's stop for today. I will stop by later for us to prepare for the gathering at the Redwood place tomorrow."

Damien's face scrunched up in distaste. "Redwood? Where Julian lives? I told you I didn't wanna go! Last time he blamed me for stealing cookies from the kitchen." He crossed his arms, still upset about the past incident.

"Young master, you will respect the Prince of State. It is his birthday and we MUST attend." He sighed, "Your father seeing his old friend, King Warrin, has been keeping him sane recently."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and dashed off, his youthful energy evident in every step. Clara, the younger sister, giggled at her brother's antics and chased after him. Her laughter echoed in the air.

Watching the children's playful antics, Lady Elora's expression turned contemplative. "They're so innocent now, but the world outside isn't always kind," she murmured.

Sir Boreas, catching her sentiment, nodded in agreement. "Indeed, my lady, and with the challenges we face... especially before the gathering at the Redwood place tomorrow, we must prepare mentally."

Lady Elora sighed, "Yes, the Redwood gathering... I hope it brings some resolution." She then turned to Cidny, who was now rocking Ethan, "Thank you Sir Boreas. You too Cidny. We're blessed to have you both." forcing a smile on Cidny's face.

Sir Boreas nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "It's my pleasure, my lady. The Dawnfire family has been very kind to me." As he spoke, his gaze drifted to his prosthetic arm, a silent testament to a past filled with challenges.

Clearing his throat, he added, "I'll go see if the Lord needs anything." With a respectful bow, he made his way toward the mansion.

Sir Boreas's knock on the grand wooden door resonated through the hall. Its distinctive timbre was one he had heard many times before.

The door creaked open, revealing the glowing study.

Lord Dawnfire's voice, usually so commanding, sounded weary. "Enter, Sir Boreas.". He didn't glance up from the mountain of parchments on his desk. Sir Boreas stepped closer scanning Lord Dawnfire. He couldn't help but notice how the deepening lines of stress on the Lord's face, were more pronounced than a day ago.

Sir Boreas hesitated, recalling the morning's events. "Lord, did you see Damien during practice today? His energy, his distraction when a bird flew by, even his frustration... It reminds me of many boys his age, full of spirit and distracted by the world around them."

Taking a deep breath, Sir Boreas ventured, "My Lord, I've mentioned this before. My senses remain sharp. Today, with Damien, I felt the stirrings of Vis."

Lord Leonard Dawnfire looked up, his eyes meeting Sir Boreas's, but there was a coldness, a distance. He stayed silent for a few beats too long, his gaze drifting back to the parchments on his desk. "Another house, House Withern, has defaulted on their debt. That makes three!" he finally responded, diverting the topic away from Damien.

Lord Dawnfire's gaze finally met Sir Boreas's, sharp and piercing. He rubbed his temples, his voice weary. "I've got a state on my shoulders, debts piling up, and our family's legacy to think about. I can't... I can't chase after hopeful fantasies right now, Boreas." He paused, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off a headache. "Even the best of my ancestors didn't manifest his Vis abilities until ten. And he's a legend."

"Of course, Lord." Sir Boreas nodded, feeling a bit old and weary. "Will I prepare for tomorrow's trip to the Redwood Estate? Will you have dinner here again?"

Sir Boreas exited the room, the weight of the conversation pressing down on him. The corridors of the Dawnfire mansion were a blend of the old and the new. Ancient tapestries hanging beside LED light fixtures, TVs, and computers. Where tradition met technology. Pausing, Sir Boreas retrieved a cell phone from his pocket.

His voice softer now and tinged with warmth, he began, "Lyria?"

"No, everything's alright. We're still set for the trip tomorrow. Yes, I promise to be careful." He hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I was hoping you could arrange that doctor's appointment for me. Right after I return would be best. Yes, Monday."

There was a brief pause, filled with unspoken emotions between father and daughter. "I miss you too," he whispered, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

As he ended the call, a reluctant sigh escaped his lips. The idea of seeing a doctor for his fading senses and vis issues was nerve-wracking. It did come with a bright side: a chance to see his busy, cherished daughter again.