Explore Vin

“Check!” Vin called out, playfully, sword held offensively against Lucas’s. With a sly grin, and one fluid, sweeping motion, Lucas redirected the prince’s blade and spun around behind him. The cool edge of his sword delicately rested against the back of Vin’s neck. “Check mate.” Lucas corrected, his tone smug and confident. Vin sighed and dropped his sword, as Lucas removed his from the vampire’s neck. “You’ve bested me again, it seems.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sweat soaked knight behind him. Lucas tossed his sword aside, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. Vin may have lost, but he was still a formidable opponent. “I always do.” The knight joked, with a crooked grin. Vin laughed, sitting down on the fluffy, green grass to rest, as Lucas did the same. The midday sun had tucked itself behind a large cloud, providing some much needed relief. Vin drew a deep breath, the air saturated with the sweet scent of freshly bloomed

Morning couldn’t come soon enough. At some point in the wee-hours, Lucas had managed to doze off, but it was hardly what he would call a restful sleep. Within the few, fleeting moments of slumber he was granted, he dreamt of horrible things. Everywhere he turned in his twisted dreamscape, he was met with gut-wrenching carnage. His village burned, and blood soaked the streets. Charred and dismembered corpses were strewn about everywhere he looked, and no matter how desperately he cried out, there were no survivors there to hear him. He’d try to run away, but each time he did, his dream would loop him right back to where he started. It was like existing in his own personal hell, and the sour taste of it all lingered heavily on his mind. In all his life, he hardly remembered ever suffering from such a severe night terror. It felt so real, he almost wondered if there was something more to it. Having been startled awake, he now sat up in bed, wrapped in his blanket, attempting to forget

Hazy morning sun rays cascaded through the window across Lucas’s face, causing him to stir. He cracked his eyes open slightly and reached an arm across the bed behind him, expecting to be met with Vin’s warmth, but instead was greeted by a chilled emptiness. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he turned to face the vacant space where Vin had lain the night before. The blankets were cold. Letting out a sigh, he pushed himself out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen where the ashes and coals in the fireplace still smoldered. He prodded at the glowing embers as he put another dried log over them. Giving the coals a couple decent blows, the log finally caught fire and Lucas moved to heat the kettle. His throat felt a great deal better, but still carried a raw scratchiness that proved to be mildly annoying. He pulled the remaining heel of stale bread from the box on the table, and nibbled on it apprehensively. His stomach was still a little unsettled, but he couldn’t tell if it was from not

“UNHAND ME, YOU DALCOP!” The woman shrieked, her voice echoing throughout the castle halls as a brutish knight dragged her along by the arm, his meaty paw squeezing her tight enough to leave marks. “LET-ME-GO!” She shouted again, frantically clawing at the large man’s iron grip. Her feet slid and scuffed across the floor as she leaned back, employing as much resistance as she could physically muster. Unfortunately, her efforts went to waste. Abruptly, the knight stopped, slinging her body forward, where she slammed hard against the tile floor. Sharp pains radiated from her knees and wrists as she tried to break her fall; however, she instead landed on her chest, which knocked the wind out of her. Propping herself up on her elbow, she gasped and coughed, clutching at her neck as she tried to catch her breath. Once air finally found her lungs again, she snapped her infuriated gaze back to the knight, and spat in his direction. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” An older man’s

Three weeks had quietly slipped by. Much to the bewilderment of the king, a second attack had not come. It was getting to the point that Vin wasn’t even sure that Honterra was actually responsible for his father’s assassination at all. He was killed within Valkevilla’s borders, after all, so there could potentially be a great deal of other suspects to consider. Though Vin found the notion that one of his own citizens could be responsible for his murder highly unlikely. The late king was held in much too high a regard for anyone to have any sort of justifiable quarrel with him. Even still, the unexpected calm resting over the kingdom was unnerving, and kept Vin on his toes. Despite his initial impulse to invade Honterra, he couldn’t deny his mother had a point. After spending a few sleepless nights considering it, he decided to wait on ordering his counter attack. With limited knowledge of the strength of their enemy’s army, putting his people in danger would certainly not gain him any