The crack of wood against wood echoed through the courtyard, the practice swords splintering with the force of the blow. Tiny shards spiraled to the ground like falling leaves. Azure winced, his knuckles white around the hilt, but he gritted his teeth and held his ground. Derian's blade whistled through the air with deadly precision, each strike perfectly measured, frustratingly flawless.

"Your form is sloppy, Azure," Derian remarked, his voice steady but with an edge that cut deeper than his sword. He spun the blade in a swift arc, bringing it toward Azure's chest in one fluid, unyielding motion.

Azure barely managed to retreat, his boots crunching against the dry earth as he skidded back, sweat trickling down his temple. "You're no Bladesworn yourself, brother," he shot back, his voice sharp with defiance, though a flicker of tension betrayed him. He feinted left, his body twisting with a burst of energy, aiming for an unexpected strike.

But Derian sidestepped effortlessly, his movement fluid, almost casual. His head tilted just enough to avoid the blow, his dark eyes locked on Azure, unwavering, calculating. "What happened at the shore?" he asked, the coldness in his tone unmistakable. It wasn't a question—it was an accusation.

Azure’s jaw tightened, a flash of frustration breaking through his mask. "There was… an accident," he muttered, barely able to meet his brother's gaze. He slashed upward, the blade slicing through empty air as Derian moved aside, but Azure quickly shifted his grip, spinning the sword in a desperate downward plunge.

Derian’s body twisted smoothly, the blade grazing past his shoulder. Before Azure could recover, Derian stepped in close, lifting the pommel of his sword in a swift, brutal strike. The blow connected under Azure’s chin with a dull thud, sending him reeling. The world spun around him, and he staggered back, gasping for breath, the taste of iron filling his mouth.

Derian’s expression darkened, his voice lowering to a growl. "That’s not what they told me." His posture shifted, his shoulders stiffening. "You act like the lives of thousands aren’t hanging by a thread because of you."

A pulse of anger surged through Azure, his grip tightening on the sword. The familiar temptation to call on his spark, to cut into his skin and unleash its power, flickered at the edges of his mind. His brother’s words grated at him, each one a sharp jab. Derian, the perfect son, the one without their father's spark, had the gall to lecture him. How could everyone revere him as if he were flawless?

"I know that, Derian," Azure spat, his voice thick with resentment. His hand trembled as it tightened around the hilt. "Maybe if you weren’t so obsessed with my mistakes, you'd have time to court—" He stopped short, the venomous words hanging in the air, dangerous and loaded.

Derian’s eyes narrowed, his face tightening. The calm mask slipped, and for a moment, his knuckles whitened around the sword. "What did you say?" His voice was ice, but the flush rising in his cheeks betrayed the fury beneath.

Azure swallowed, regret already gnawing at him, but his pride wouldn’t allow him to back down. Derian’s expression easied further. His breath came slow, measured, though the rigid set of his jaw gave him away.

"Father managed to capture the spark even after your catastrophic failure." Derian's tone was almost too casual, but the edge in his words cut through the stillness.

Azure straightened, his chin throbbing, the ache only deepening his frustration. "I’m sure he did. I cleared out most of the abominations," he muttered, rubbing his jaw, trying to push away the lingering numbness.

"At the cost of Commander Goren," Derian shot back, his words hitting like a lash. Azure flinched. "How do you manage that, Azure? The position was perfect, the timing flawless, and the squad was hand-picked. It should have been a clean operation. Zero casualties."

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Azure wiped the sweat from his brow with a cloth, placing his practice sword on the rack with a dull thud. "It’s not uncommon for someone to die in battle, even a commander," he said, biting the inside of his cheek. "Goren wasn’t strong enough to survive a simple attack. He should’ve retired years ago."

The courtyard fell into an uneasy silence, the hot wind brushing against Azure’s skin, making it itch. Derian sighed, the tension momentarily easing from his posture. His long hair, a mark of his high status, swayed slightly with the breeze. It was seen as a sign of respect to keep one’s hair long in their ranks—Derian’s, of course, was impeccable.

"You always shift the blame," Derian muttered, his voice heavy with disappointment. He placed his sword on the rack beside Azure’s, the clink of metal a finality.

"Anyway," Derian said, his tone more measured now, "Father’s made arrangements to negotiate the spark with the High Kings."

Azure's head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What?" His voice cracked. "How could he even think of offering it to them? They’re already strong enough to push into our borders."

"Exactly." Derian’s voice was calm again, but his eyes held Azure's. "They’re strong enough to take it by force if they wanted. Father plans to use the spark to forge an alliance, to open trade routes with the south."

Azure’s pulse quickened, the weight of his brother's words sinking in. His mouth went dry. "That’s madness," he whispered, shaking his head, disbelief etched into every line of his face

"It's strategy," Derian corrected, his voice sharpening. "Father is trying to save our people. If you weren’t so obsessed with power, maybe you’d see that." He stepped closer, his eyes hardening. "But you don’t care about the kingdom, do you? It’s always been about proving yourself. About you."

Azure's blood boiled at the accusation, his heart thundering in his chest. He clenched his fists, his fingers itching to draw his spark, the blood spark power thrumming beneath his skin. "That’s not true!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the courtyard. "I’ve fought, bled for this city—what have you done? Played the obedient son while Father makes deals with the very people who will crush us?"

Derian's eyes blazed. "You think you’re the only one who's sacrificed? The only one who's suffered? You're blind, Azure. And reckless. It's going to get people killed." He turned as if to leave, his back stiff with tension.

"Derian!" Azure's voice cut through the air, more a command than a plea. He could feel the weight of his power, the pull of his spark urging him forward. "You're just like Father! Always underestimating me. But I'm stronger than you think."

Derian stopped in his tracks, his shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths. Slowly, he turned, his expression darkening. "Do you think power alone will fix this? You're willing to throw everything away—our alliances, our people—just for your ego?"

"I’m fighting for us!" Azure snapped. "I’m fighting to protect what Father refuses to."

The tension snapped like a taut wire. In an instant, Derian lunged, his fist colliding with Azure’s jaw with a sickening crack. Azure stumbled back, the force of the blow sending shockwaves through his body. His vision blurred, but instinct took over. With a guttural growl, he lashed out, his fist finding its target in Derian’s side.

Derian grunted, staggering from the impact, but he recovered quickly, stepping forward with another punch aimed at Azure's stomach. Azure dodged, his anger fueling every movement as he retaliated with a wild swing that grazed his brother’s cheek.

"Stop hiding behind your self-righteous excuses!" Azure roared, his voice filled with raw emotion, his breath labored. "If you had real power, you wouldn't be afraid to use it."

Derian’s eyes flashed, and for the first time, true fury twisted his features. Without hesitation, he slammed his shoulder into Azure’s chest, knocking the wind from his lungs. Azure hit the ground hard, the dry earth digging into his palms as he struggled to get up.

Before he could rise, Derian was on him, his hands gripping Azure’s collar, shaking him. "You don’t get it, Azure," he hissed, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. "You’re not the savior you think you are. You’re a liability."

Azure's gaze locked with his brother's, the weight of his words stinging more than any punch. But instead of backing down, he snarled, his hand trembling as it reached toward his wrist, where his spark pulsed just beneath the skin.

"You want to see what kind of power I have, Derian?" Azure's voice dropped, low and dangerous. "I’ll show you." He bites the skin off his hand with a disgusting tearing sound

Derian's eyes widened, realization dawning as he saw the blood begin to squirm as it seeped from Azure’s palm, the sign of his blood spark awakening.

"No!" Derian shouted, but it was too late.

Azure’s spark flared to life, raw and untamed.

The courtyard exploded into chaos.