The wind roared as Vendel’s horse thundered into the night. It was dark, but Vendel found that he could see as plain as day despite the helmet that had in the past obscured his vision. He could feel his senses grow sharper and he felt stronger with each life he took, and part of him was eager to see just what he could become when his sword had drunk its fill.

A crooked grin twisted the young prince’s lips. Taking the war into Entavia was not out of the question. What a turnaround that would be. He could picture it now, his father’s banners laying siege to the walls Endelweir. Then, his father would take his seat on the Imperial Dragon Throne. His brother would sit to his right, while Vendel would be given Minenfel to govern as his own where he would retire a hero.

“A noble dream,” the voice whispered. “But the path to making it real will be long and arduous.”

Vendel’s grin broadened. “I will take it gladly.”

Eager to claim the lives of more enemies to fuel the sword and his dreams, Vendel urged his horse forward. He could hear his brother shout something from behind, but his horse had no hope of keeping up, clad as he was from head to toe in his famous black armour. His voice was tinged with concern. Vendel would soon show his brother that his concern was misplaced. He would deal with these ambushers before his brother arrived.

Yes, Vendel thought happily, when he and his brother arrived at Karth, his brother would naturally be placed in charge of the armies there. Perhaps if things went well here, he would be permitted to take their legions on empty handed. Wouldn’t that send those cocky Entavian dogs running all the way back to Endelweir with their tails tucked firmly between their legs?

“My power is limited, and does not make you immortal,” the voice warned. “Just very hard to kill.”

“I’ll be careful,” Vendel smirked.

Just then, the young prince’s instincts screamed danger. Moments later, a ball of fire shot out of the long grass to his left.

“I can block it!” the sword cried.

The sword flew from its scabbard in a flash, as Vendel cut the orb in two. It exploded with a great crash, panicking Vendel’s horse and causing it to stumble. Vendel felt his steed go crashing to the ground and attempted to leap off, but got his foot caught in a stirrup. The horse fell, pinning Vendel’s left leg under it. Together they skidded in the dirt, and Vendel felt something snap.

“Stupid beast!” he gasped through the pain and looked up to see a dozen armed men appear out of the long grass.

Another ball of fire arced through the air and in the corner of his eye, Vendel saw it crash against a black clad figure who was riding at full speed.

Vendel’s left leg was in agony, made worse by his horse’s thrashing as it attempted to get back onto its feet. With a cry of frustration, Vendel drove his sword into the horse’s side, and a moment later, the thrashing stopped. He then attempted to free himself but could muster no strength from his left leg.

“Work your magic quickly, Andy,” he ordered through gritted teeth.

“You’ve snapped your femur clean in two,” the sword pointed out. “An injury that severe will take a while to heal.”

“How long?” Vendel demanded. The armed men were completely silent as they drew closer. They were well armed and were almost upon him.

“A minute or two.”

“We don’t have that long!” Vendel exclaimed out loud.

“An injury like this would have crippled you for life,” the sword shot back. “My power has its limits!”

The closest man said a quiet prayer before advancing with his weapon poised. Vendel swung the sword viciously at the man’s legs, but he prepared and jumped neatly over before driving his sword into Vendel’s arm. Vendel gritted his teeth from pain but managed to cling onto the sword.

“My arm!” he screamed in his head. “Heal that first!”

“I know, I’m not a fool!” came the irate reply. “I’m doing what I can, but you won’t be able to use me until he pulls his sword out of your arm.”

The man’s sword had pierced clean through his arm, almost severing it while pinning it to the ground. Vendel’s hand, which was still stubbornly clinging onto the sword was just out of reach of his other arm. Vendel willed his opponent to pull his sword out of his arm to deliver the finishing blow. However, the man left his sword where it was and pulled out a dagger.

He was about to deal the finishing blow when Vengian came thundering past on his horse, sending the man’s head flying. A fireball lit up their surroundings, causing a grassfire to break out as it tore through the air towards the Black Prince, who blocked it neatly with his shield.

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“Pull the sword out of your arm!” the voice screamed.

Vendel cried out in pain as he did as he was told. The whimper distracted his Vengian for a moment as he looked at Vendel’s mangled arm with concern. The moment was all their ambushers needed and a bolt flew out of the grass, striking the Black Prince’s horse in the rump. The black mare whinnied as it reared onto her hind legs, throwing the distracted prince off her back, before bolting into the night.

Vengian rose quickly from the long grass but found himself surrounded by five ambushers. He swayed as he stood uneasily, injured by the fall. Vendel gritted his teeth while his ruined arm and leg were rapidly rebuilt by the sword’s power as he desperately struggled to free himself from his horse’s bulk.

“This would go faster if you stopped wriggling,” the sword remarked, sounding calmer now that Vendel’s life wasn’t in immediate danger.

The prince, however, was filled with concern for his brother. One of his assailants advanced. His brother swung his sword, which his opponent sidestepped easily. The swing threw his brother off balance, and another foe charged in from behind, striking him in the back with an axe. The axe glanced off his brother’s thick, black armour, but sent him staggering into another savage sword blow from another ambusher. This strike didn’t pierce his armour either, sending him reeling in another direction. A third ambusher stepped forward, but this time, the Black Prince was ready, cutting him nearly in half with a savage over the shoulder strike.

Vendel was heartened to see his brother’s opponents back off a step. Then, movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and Vendel looked up to see another three men advancing towards him.

“Try now!” the sword urged.

Without taking his eyes off the approaching foes, Vendel shifted himself and lifted with all his might. He felt the horse budge and saw the three men pause briefly to exchange looks of disbelief. His muscles screamed as they began to tear from being pushed beyond their limits, but Vendel persevered until he could pull his leg out. The men began to charge, but it was too late. In the blink of an eye, two were beheaded while another had his leg cut out from under him.

Vendel loomed over his fallen foe, who looked back with terror in his eyes. The young prince licked his lips. The experience of absorbing life essence was growing more addictive, and he savoured the aftertaste of his two most recent kills.

“Lord in Heaven, protect me from this abomination,” the man cried as tears streamed down his face.

Vendel smirked and tried to think up a witty retort when a fireball arced across the landscape. He looked up in time to see it strike his brother in the shoulder. The force of the impact sent him flying a short distance before crashing amidst the long grass. The younger prince let out a cry of surprise and pain when he felt something bite into his leg. He looked down to see that his one legged foe had buried his sword halfway through his calf.

Vendel let off a roar of fury as he brought his sword down on the stricken man’s head, splitting it like a ripe watermelon. In a fit of rage, he continued hacking at the man’s body until he suddenly remembered something important.

“Vengian!” he gasped.

The younger prince looked around frantically and saw four men standing over something in the long grass. The fire that had been set off by the conjurer’s fireball had grown and now ringed the combatants. He was about to rush over when the sword warned, “Danger!”

Acting on instinct, Vendel twisted his body and raised the sword. A fireball was hurtling towards him, but something told the young prince that he should hold firm. The swirling ball of fire seemed to move in slow motion as it approached, and Vendel decided to trust his instincts and reach out with the sword to touch it. As soon as the sword made contact with the flames, it shimmered, and the fireball fizzled out with a splutter.

Without wasting another moment, Vendel sprang forward towards the conjurer who was crouched in the grass. He was flanked by a pair of swordsmen who rose as Vendel approached. Enraged, Vendel cut them both in half with a single blow each, cutting through flesh, steel, and bone as though it were paper.

In the blink of an eye, only the conjurer was left. He looked up defiantly at Vendel as he chanted a spell. However, before he could finish, Vendel rammed the tip of the sword through the man’s mouth.

“Vendel, run…”

His voice was faint, and he was at least a hundred yards away, but Vendel could hear his brother’s words clearly. He whirled around to see three men pummelling something on the ground with their weapons.

“Brother, hold on!” Vendel cried, praying that his brother’s famous black armour had protected him.

The men were so focused on the man clad in singed black armour who lay unmoving before them that they didn’t notice Vendel’s approach. He dispatched the three men quickly, and then the fourth, who he found lying on his back. The man clutching his leg and his foot lay close by. Vendel looked around, and his senses told him that all the ambushers had either been killed or fled.

He then turned to his brother who lay motionless on the ground. His armour was rent and dented all over. Vendel rushed over and attempted to lift his visor when his brother’s hand shot up and slashed at him with a dagger.

“It’s me, brother,” Vendel gasped as the dagger caught him in the arm.

“Vendel?” his brother’s voice was weak. “Is it safe?”

“Yes, brother,” Vendel cried. Tears of relief streamed down his face. He prised open the visor of his brother’s helmet and was shocked at how pale he looked. “Everything is fine, you’ll be alright. I’ll bring you back to the others so they can treat your wounds.”

“No,” Vengian croaked. “I’m afraid it’s too late for me.”

His brother attempted to raise his arm, and it was then that Vendel noticed the sword that had been forced through his armour and partway through his brother’s torso.

“Brother, no!” Vengel choked.

“Perhaps… perhaps it’s better this way,” Vengian said weakly. His breath was ragged, and his words laboured. “Protect the kingdom, Vendel.”

“Do something!” Vendel cried out loud.

“I’m afraid there is nothing I can do,” the sword replied. “Even if he were to become my master, I’m afraid he’s too far gone.”

“This is my fault,” Vendel croaked as tears streamed freely down his face. “If I hadn’t been so stubborn…"

In a small corner of his heart, Vendel hoped to hear his brother speak, to absolve him of blame, but the absolution never came. Now that he knew his brother was safe, Vengian Setranium stopped clinging stubbornly to life and died. Vendel felt a twinge of regret as he looked into his brother’s lifeless eyes.