'Don't confine yourself to the walls of this house, Kyra. Travel the world and explore the true beauty of it all.' Kyra thrashed around as her mother's words echoed in her dream. Her mother’s face was nothing but a blurry image, and her black hair was flailing around in the wind her brain had created. Kyra then awoke and grabbed the sword plastered by her bedside and swung it towards the presence within her room.

However, when her eyes adjusted to the moonlit area, they slowly widened in horror as her father stood there, his own sword in hand. He was serious about the threat he made at the table, and Kyra didn’t know what she felt at that exact moment. Munich used his daughter’s initial shock as an opportunity to make his move. And he did, striking at his daughter again.

Kyra quickly snapped out of her dazed state, held her sword over her head, and blocked the strike. However, unlike Luther, Munich was a far better swordsman despite his age. Kyra bent her legs, crouched down, and sprung up with enough force to push her father backwards—and it worked. Kyra then took this opportunity to run out of her room in nothing but her white nightgown. She then rushed down the stairs and into the living quarters.

This did nothing to stop her father, however. He had arrived in the living quarters in record time and struck fear within his daughter.

“You can’t be serious about killing me all because I want to carve out my own destiny!” Kyra exclaimed. Munich’s expression hardened, and he held his sword in an inside stance and pointed the blade directly at her head. He then moved forward at record speed, like a fencer. Kyra barely dodged the attack, and it grazed her cheek instead. She wasn’t going to win like this. Her father wanted her dead.

“I will not have a child destroy my reputation. Following the path of magic is following a path of failure, and I will not have a child fail.” He spat. The elder male then flipped the sword into his other hand and stabbed his daughter in the abdomen. The wound was shallow but hurt nonetheless. The crimson liquid leaked through her white dress and dripped down to the ground. A thin layer of cold sweat coated Kyra’s forehead, and the sight of her own blood made her slightly woozy. What an embarrassing trait she had. The blood of others had no effect on her, but her blood—well, that was another story. Kyra dragged her sword upwards, blocking more and more of her father’s attacks.

“You have a child who fails. The so-called heir you’re working so hard to create can barely wield a sword. That’s a failure within itself!” She exclaimed as she landed a cut on her father’s cheek.

“Luther can get better at the sword!” He roared. “How will a child with no mana become a mage?!” He added. This made Kyra falter. She knew it was stupid to chase magic. However, she was optimistic about many things, and gaining mana was one of them. No matter how unrealistic it seemed,.

The father and daughter continued exchanging blows, slashing at each other.

“Your mother filled your head with futile dreams. I should have ripped you away from her like I did Luther—you would have grown up hardened and ready to do your due diligence to hold up the family name. What a failure of a father I was, allowing her to plant her whimsical seeds within you.” He spoke with such venom.

The mention of her mother made Kyra snap. She began to disregard her wound and swung her sword around wildly. Her moves were far too quick and unpredictable for Munich to read. She successfully slashed him in the thighs and abdomen. The state of his daughter sent alarm bells into Munich’s head. Her pupils disappeared, leaving behind the sclera. Her mouth was shaped like a snarl, and her teeth somehow appeared sharper. It was his mind playing tricks on him; however, that didn’t make Kyra any less demonic-looking.

Kyra pounced forward faster than Munich could react, and without thinking too much, Kyra did the unthinkable—she had killed her father. His head flew off his neck and rolled onto the ground. His blood then sprayed upwards in large quantities, coating the walls and floor. Kyra’s mind returned to normal, and she stood there and stared in horror at what she had done. Like some sort of bad luck, Luther rushed downstairs and gazed upon his dead father and his bloodied sister, shocked.

“What did you do?” He questioned me in disbelief. There he stood in his fur robe, clearly naked underneath. Kyra’s eyes looked past him and at the maid, who stood at the top of the staircase with a towel carelessly tied around her body.

“What did you do!?” He yelled this time. This snapped Kyra out of her dazed state.

“He came at me!” She argued, and her voice quivered and came out much louder than she would have liked. Luther, without a second of thought, grabbed the spear attached to the wall and rushed towards her. Kyra blocked the attack, pushed her brother backwards, and left the dark cottage and into the sleeping village.

Her bare feet grazed the pebbles and sharp rocks, blistering them and causing them to bleed. Her vision was blurring—the wound on her abdomen being the cause. Kyra was in no shape to take on her brother. She was stronger, yes. However, she had wasted far more energy than she would have liked.

“Get back here, you bitch!” Luther’s voice echoed across the village, awaking some families. Slowly, her father’s men left their homes, followed by their wives.

“What’s this all about!?” A deep, gruff voice questioned me aloud. Klaus Gunther. A giant man who had the temper of a thousand bulls. This was the last man she wanted to face now.

“This wench murdered my father!” Luther seethed. Munich’s men looked over at Kyra with wide eyes, clearly in disbelief.

“You did what?!” Klaus yelled. It took no more than a second for the men to start charging towards her; no questions were asked. Kyra bit her bottom lip and began running. The shallow wound on her stomach slowly became numb, and she thanked the heavens for that. With the bleed wound no longer on her mind, Kyra sprinted at full speed towards the stables. She grabbed the closest reins, ran towards one of the stalls, and pulled out a black thoroughbred. The horse made a loud noise, and Kyra quickly silenced it.

“Shhhh. You’re going on a little trip with me.” Kyra said. She quickly mounted the horse, hissing at the pain that coursed through her abdomen, and placed the reins on the horse. She then whipped the reins down, and the horse bolted out of the barn, knocking back the men who had followed her there. She continued riding at full speed out of the village. Kyra wasn’t stupid. She knew that her brother and her father’s men would hunt her down until they enacted her revenge.

Kyra got herself into a sticky situation. However, what scared her the most was how excited this all made her. The young girl continued riding into the night, waiting to see what the world held for her.