This Is My House

They heard him coming before they saw him.

A distant, metallic clang. Then another. Wood splintering. Walls groaning.

And laughter.

Low and wild, just a ripple at first. Then growing. Building into something breathless and feral, like a man losing his mind and enjoying every second of it.

Galir’s sword was already in hand by the time the final crash echoed down the hall.

The guards flanking him, Deren and Ralik, gripped their weapons tighter, tense and pale. Behind Galir, the entrance to the safe room pulsed with protective sigils, the wards humming faintly with woven energy, designed to be in place of a door. Inside, Bilia clung to Juni, the youngest of the servant girls, her face pale and afraid.

“Galir…” she whispered.

He turned back, keeping his voice calm and reassuring. “Stay behind the wards. It is going to be alright.”

“But, you have to come inside too…”

“Bilia.” His tone hardened, just enough. “This is what I’m here for.”

The hallway outside was narrow, lined with polished stone and darkwood beams. The light from the torches flickered like it, too, was afraid of what was coming.

And then Lantar stepped into view.

The corridor behind him was carnage. Shattered paintings. A collapsed column. A smoking set of doors he’d apparently gone through instead of around.

He moved at a slow, deliberate pace. Not like someone charging into battle, but someone savoring a moment. A beast loosed from its cage, relishing the freedom.

Galir studied the man. Unlike anyone he had ever seen.

The man was bare-chested, his skin streaked with dried blood and a large wound. His frame was corded muscle, coiled and twitching as he walked. The ink of a mark curled along his face, all the way down the side of his neck like vines.

And his eyes, black pits, gleaming with the red light that danced across his skin.

The guards raised their swords, trying not to tremble. Galir didn’t blame them.

Lantar grinned. “Guards,” he said, the word slurred like it was foreign in his mouth. “Always guards.”

Galir stepped forward, planting himself firmly in the center of the corridor.

The man’s eyes found him.

He stopped.

“Oh,” Lantar said, delighted. “Not a guard… you look familiar.”

The air changed, just slightly. His grin widened.

Galir didn’t talk. He simply lowered his swords into a readied stance.

Lantar’s head tilted like a curious dog.

“You don’t smell like fear.”

“I bathed today,” Galir said dryly. “You should try it sometime.”

Lantar blinked. Then barked out a laugh, a real one this time, surprising, too loud for the hall.

Deren lunged first, breaking the moment.

He didn’t even get close.

Lantar moved faster than he had any right toð one instant motionless, the next, a blur of red light and a thunderous crack.

Deren’s body snapped sideways, crashing into the wall with enough force to shatter the stone behind him.

He crumpled and didn’t rise.

Ralek shouted and charged.

“No!”

Brave and stupid, Galir thought as he yelled for him to wait.

He didn’t last any longer.

Lantar’s arm lashed out in a backhand, nothing but muscle and speed, and Ralek’s jaw cracked with the impact. The concussive aftershock came a moment later, blasting the man back like a kicked ragdoll.

Two breaths. Two dead.

Galir didn’t move.

Lantar turned back toward him, chest heaving slightly, eyes bright with joy. “You stayed.”

“I did.”

“Why not run?”

Galir’s grip tightened on his swords. Willing his hands not to shake. “Because this is my house.”

Lantar blinked.

Galir took a step forward, refusing to flinch. “My name is Galir Badania. And you won’t touch what’s mine.”

The effect was immediate.

Lantar froze… something strange brightening in his eyes. His breath caught.

Badania.

Galir saw it, a flicker, like a moment of clarity in the storm.

“Ah,” Lantar whispered.

Then, almost gently: “You’re the little girl’s brother.”

The words felt like something sacred to him. Like they meant more than Galir had intended. The grin returned, but softer now. “That makes this special.”

He stepped forward slowly, dragging his glowing fingers across the wall as he walked. The stone beneath them cracked from his touch, veins of red light spidering outward.

“You’re not blessed,” Lantar said, voice low. “No magic. Just bone and pride.”

Galir smiled faintly. “You forgot steel.”

He lunged.

Lantar responded instantly, body snapping into motion. Red light burst from his heels as he moved forward, but this time, Galir was ready.

He ducked the initial swing, letting the magic burst skim above his shoulder. His left sword came up in a tight arc, slicing across Lantar’s side, drawing blood.

The man laughed, wild and breathless.

“Yes!”

He came back with a brutal overhead strike, Galir blocked with his blades, arms screaming from the impact. The aftershock followed, cracking the floor beneath them.

But Galir didn’t fall.

He twisted, caught Lantar’s knee with the hilt of his blade, and shoved him back a step.

The corridor trembled around them. Dust rained down from above. But it was an outside attack.

Lantar’s face was alive with delight.

“You’re better than the others.”

Galir didn’t answer.

“I like you.”

Another strike, Galir parried.

A burst mid-air, he dodged sideways.

A sudden charge, Galir leapt aside just in time.

Sweat dripped down his neck. His shoulder ached from the last blow. But he was still standing.

Still breathing.

Lantar paused, chest heaving. Blood ran down his ribs. It didn’t seem to bother him.

He stared at Galir with something like wonder.

“You’re what he was supposed to be,” Lantar said.

Galir blinked. “Who?”

The sorcerer tilted his head. “My brother.”

And then the smile turned cruel.

“He died. I made it quick.”

Something behind those words wasn’t quite right. Not pride.. not sorrow either.

Galir’s hands clenched his jaw.

“I’m sorry for your brother,” he said.

Lantar shrugged. “I’m not.”

He took another step forward. “Because now I get to see what it’s like when the brother fights back.”

He rushed forward in a blur of movement, faster than before.

Galir braced himself.

And the real fight began.

*****

Kade had just reached the west hall’s exit when the house shook again, an impact that cracked the floor under his feet and made the air hum like a struck bell. Dust fell from the beams above. His heart clenched. Hanel. It had to be.

He kept running, not liking how vast the Badania's estate was for the first time.

But something moved.

A flash of motion.

Kade skidded to a stop.

She was already there.

A woman.

Leaning against the archway, framed by the moonlight from the high windows, like she’d been waiting just for him. Pale skin, lithe frame, lean muscle hidden beneath a dark tunic and trousers. Her hair was pale golden, braided thick and long, swinging over one shoulder. And across her face, stark black ink curled around her eyes, stretching down her cheeks and to her chin. Just like the other man Kade had seen.

The woman smiled.

“Well,” she said, tilting her head. “You’re not what I expected.”

Kade blinked. “Excuse me?”

“That light,” she said, pointing lazily. “Blue. That’s not a color I’ve seen before. Was that you?”

He frowned, stepping back cautiously. “Yes, it is my Flame. What do you want?”

“Just having a conversation start,” she said, still smiling. “What’s your name, blue-light boy?”

Kade raised his hands. Blue light pooled in his palms, living light, shifting like fire. He saw how dangerous the other man was. He knew that she was the enemy even if she just stood there and smiled for now.

She watched with sharp eyes. “That’s nothing like the three flames. How curious.”

Kade glanced at her tattoo again, and couldn’t help saying “You’re like the other one,” he said. “The man who was here earlier. Lantar. You both have that same tattoo on your face.”

Her smile widened. “Well, we're from the same Guild.”

“What does it mean?”

“The mark binds us. So we don’t run. So we don’t forget where we belong.” Her voice turned mockingly sweet. “Isn’t that charming?”

Kade looked at her for a long second. Eyes wide. “I think that’s horrifying.”

She laughed, genuine and sharp. “You would, you little Lunavin sorcerer. You’ve never been given power with conditions, have you?”

He tilted his head. “How powerful is it if someone is keeping you bonded and trapped?”

Her grin faltered for the first time.

And then, suddenly, it returned colder.

“You’ll make a fine gift,” she said, voice soft with calculation. “Whatever that magic is, the Guild will want it. Will want you alive.”

She moved.

Kade did too.

A breath. A pull. His magic responded.

And the corridor filled with the blue light.

It bloomed above him like a flare, then shaped itself. Wings. Talons. A scream that rippled the air. A massive bird, burning blue, feathers swirling like liquid fire, dove through the corridor.

The wind knocked Eurnar back a step.

The bird was too big for the hall. Its wings broke lamps, cracked the stone, sent dust exploding from the walls as it twisted and turned with impossible grace.

Eurnar dropped low and slid under it, her boots sparking against the floor. She rose behind it, eyebrows raised. “Well. That’s new.”

Kade let the giant bird shift into something smaller that would fit the small place better.

She lunged.

And the fight began.

She was fast. Every movement honed and practiced. Her knives glinted in her hands, both of them crackling with light edges. Kade kept summoning more and more creatures to get in her way.

Small shifting little things from his mind, a Skaels, cat like flying animals, it needed all his focus because she was too close, in his face. A bigger greater would have ended the fight or at least given him more time. But the corridor was too small.

She darted between his magic creatures, bouncing off surfaces with magic-enhanced agility, leaving geometric flashes where her boots touched the floor, the walls.

Kade countered. His Skaels twisted, shrieking, as he called it into motion. It swept sideways, escaping her attack and twisting to attack her from behind. Sharp canines sunk into her neck.

Eurnar winced, and brought her knife to cut at it. It dissolved in blue sparks, but another was jumping on her again, and she responded fast, the other knife flashing at it.

It was madness. She danced, fast, dodging the many little things attacking her from every corner. And she was whistling.

“This is impressive, blue boy, very fun.”

“Thank you,” Kade said cheerfully, dodging a blade she threw at him.

“Still going to cut you, and take you with me.”

“Please don’t.”

“You lived through Lantar,” she said between strikes. “How?”

Kade ducked under a leaping kick, rolling clear of her arc. “I was lucky.”

“Lantar doesn’t leave people alive.”

“Maybe he wasn’t lucky?”

She laughed, twisting mid-air to slash with both blades. Kade conjured a shield by instinct, but it was thin, almost transparent, like stretched glass, and it shattered under her strike, sending sparks flying. He knew he could make non living objects well. But he panicked.

She was already moving again.

“Tell me your name.” she asked.

“Kade Badania.”

She paused at the name.

Not long.

But enough for his newest construct to form, a serpentine chain of blue creatures, coiling in the air like dragons. They struck in unison, slamming into her shield as she flipped backward, trying to recover her footing.

Kade pressed the advantage. His constructs shifted. Grew claws. Wings. Blades. He didn’t know what they were, only that he imagined them attacking, and they responded.

Eurnar was no longer grinning.

She dodged, but just barely, teeth bared as one construct caught her side with a snap of blue claw. She hissed, twisting to slam her palm to the floor. A sharp plane of gold magic shot upward, blocking Kade’s next strike. She made a platform of the same magic, and ran along, diving for him…

And he stepped aside, barely.

The dragon creatures followed her, crashing into her, claws extended.

Eurnar screamed in rage.

She hit the floor hard, rolled, came up bleeding from her arm.

Her glare was angry for the first time. “You’re not real.”

Kade blinked. “What?”

“This magic, it’s not real. It doesn’t follow rules. You’re just making it up.”

“Well,” Kade said gently. “That is how my magic work.”

She snarled and lunged.

Kade braced, but her blade didn’t reach him.

She stopped. Breathing hard. Staring at him with something unreadable.

“What are you?”

“I… don’t think anyone knows.”

Her knife dropped, dissolving as her shoulder bleeded.

Kade stepped forward. “You’re hurt. Why don’t you…?”

She slashed him with the other knife.

Fast. Clean.

Right across the side of his torso. Deep.

He gasped, stumbling back.

She didn’t follow through. Just stood there, staring at him, blood on her glowing blade, confusion on her face.

“You don’t even hate me,” she whispered.

Kade winced, pressing a hand to the wound. “Should I?”

“You should hate everything, but especially people who are hurting you. That’s how it works.”

“I don’t think it has to.”

For a long moment, nothing moved. They just stared at each other. Eurnar breathing hard.

Kade’s magic shimmered faintly around him, dimmer now. His constructs hovered at a distance, waiting. And he felt it… a pull. A strange awareness threading between them. Something emotional, magical. Something deep. Like his magic knew hers. Or wanted to.