Thorns of Blood

Chapter 2: Lead them all

Yeon closed the door to his small rented room, the chill of the Vellanis air clinging to him like a second skin. He dropped the satchel onto the floor and took a moment to steady himself, the echoes of the training hall still resonating in his bones. The ache from sparring with Merdane was a reminder of how far he had to go. Determined, he stepped into the center of the room and began throwing punches, the air splitting around his fists with each strike. His kicks followed, sharp and swift, cutting through the silence.

Sweat trickled down his temples, soaking the fabric of his thin shirt until it clung to his skin. With a rough tug, he tore the shirt off, revealing the lean, taut muscles of his chest and arms. A jagged scar on the corner of his slim waist caught his eye, and he paused, fingers tracing the old wound. The memory surged forward, sharp and vivid.

One year ago.

"There won't be any war, neither any peace, until you lead them all."

The voice, cold and commanding, filled the candlelit room. Aunt Garnida stood tall, her braided white hair draped over her powerful shoulders. She wore a long red robe with broad shoulders that covered her body, making her appear even more imposing. Her dark skin, unlike Yeon's pale, white skin, glistened in the flickering light, accentuating the hard lines of her face and the sharpness of her gaze.

Yeon's heart thudded in his chest as he looked at her. The room felt smaller with her presence, suffocating under the weight of her words. "What do you mean, Aunt Garnida?" he asked, voice tight and uncertain.

Her eyes narrowed, and she took a deliberate step forward, the crimson robe she wore whispering around her feet. "Vellanis army killed your grandfather in the Great War. We lost more than a thousand men that day; we lost our pride, our strength. I saw him fall with my own eyes, saw his blood feed the very soil beneath him." Her voice was a low growl, filled with old anger that seemed to crackle in the air. "But it was that hate, that fire, that made us who we are. You don't understand, boy. The Thornn family is the backbone of Atarria. We are the strongest family in this empire."

The air grew colder, the room steeped in silence as Yeon felt the weight of her words pressing down on him. His fists clenched at his sides, trying to anchor himself against the torrent of emotions swirling inside him.

"Next year, you will become a soldier, and you will begin your journey to lead this empire," she said, her voice deep and resolute. The intensity in her eyes was unwavering, as if she could already see him donning the mantle of power.

"I will make sure, with every ounce of my power, that you will rise to the throne. You will become king."

"I can't become king," Yeon said, barely louder than a whisper, as he looked down at his trembling hands. The thought was suffocating; it was a burden he could not imagine bearing.

"Listen to me, boy," Aunt Garnida snapped. She straightened, towering over him, her broad, muscular frame casting a shadow that swallowed the space between them. Despite her age, she exuded strength, an indomitable force that dared anyone to defy her.

"The strength of the Thornn family was me and your father. He is on the softer side but I can use who I want; those beneath me do only as I please. And let me tell you, I was not born to lead—I had to lead, because everyone else was below me. But now, it is up to you."

Yeon met her gaze, confusion and desperation twisting in his chest. "I just want peace between both nations," he whispered.

Aunt Garnida's laughter was harsh, cutting through the air like a blade. "Peace? Peace is a lie, boy. It's the devil's whisper, meant to make you soft, to keep you weak. You will lead, and you will do so because I command it."