Grandpa Rauro rose from his chair and, after picking up the sword his grandson had tossed, placed it on the table.
"What's all this about, Aiden?"
Aiden launched into a detailed recounting of the previous night's events, from his nightmare to the cryptic words of the hooded girl.
Rauro took several seconds of silence to process what he'd heard.
Then he sat back down and looked at his grandson with concern.
"None of this makes sense. Why would anyone be after you?"
"You should know," Aiden shot back, his voice laced with restrained anger. "My parents were the leaders of the greatest hero empire in this world. It's not far-fetched to think they left enemies who'd now want revenge through me."
"Nonsense! Your parents didn't make enemies."
"Oh, really? Then care to tell me why they were murdered?"
"We've been over this a hundred times. Don't make me repeat myself."
"I don't need you to. Just listen to me and start my training."
"You know full well our family tradition states your training begins when you turn twenty—the same moment you'll take my place and lead the hero empire. That's still two years away."
"I can't keep waiting."
Rauro sighed at his grandson's persistence.
"Why not? Damn it, I don't even think training is necessary. You've been studying your whole life; you already know everything you need to lead an empire. You don't need to get your hands bloody—you can focus on leading those who will."
Aiden clenched his fists at those words.
"Heroes are warriors. I can't lead other warriors if I'm not one myself."
Aiden's words echoed with such force in the small house that they made his grandfather waver.
'This kid… he's just like his father,' Rauro thought, though he wasn't thrilled about it.
"Fine. If that's your choice… so be it."
Without standing, Rauro extended a hand toward the sword on the table and, with a flourish of the many magical powers he wielded, made the weapon float toward Aiden, who had the reflexes to catch it mid-air.
"But don't expect me to tag along. The training you need requires leaving this kingdom, and as the current leader of the hero empire, I can't go with you."
"I'll go alone if I have to," Aiden replied without hesitation.
"You won't have to. I know someone who can be your right hand on this journey."
"Who?"
"You'll meet her soon enough. For now, I suggest you head home and get some sleep. Those bags under your eyes scream exhaustion, and, given how things are shaping up, this might be the last peaceful sleep you get for a long time."
Seeing his grandfather finally on board, Aiden nodded calmly, slung the sword across his back, and turned to leave.
"One last thing, Aiden."
The young man glanced back, catching a melancholic look in his grandfather's eyes—one he'd never seen before.
"Be careful."
"Of who? The demons?"
"No… of humans."
. . .
The previous night's battle had drained Aiden's spirit entirely, so when he got home, he managed to fall asleep without much trouble.
But that didn't stop the nightmares from haunting him.
Fire, demon apparitions, and entire towns plunged into chaos were all Aiden dreamed of for hours.
When Aiden woke, it wasn't because he'd rested enough, but because a beam of light had pierced his eyes.
Groggy and struggling to get out of bed, Aiden realized the light was sunlight streaming through his front door, which stood wide open.
Before he could register how odd that was, his attention was snagged by a female voice, as refined as it was rough:
"For the son of who you are, I've gotta say, your house is pretty modest."
Aiden's gaze darted to his desk, and there she was.
A girl dressed in brown heeled boots, a skirt that hugged her hips subtly while leaving her legs bare, and a buttoned shirt that strained against her pronounced chest. Her body was as striking as her face.
Aiden's eyes locked onto her brown ones, sparking a tense connection that sent a shiver through him.
"Who are you?"
The girl brushed a few strands of her long blonde hair from her forehead and smiled coolly.
"Call me Lyra. I'm your partner starting today, so you'd better hope we get along."