Vows of Vengeance

The first rays of dawn crept through the curtains, casting a warm, golden light across Lucy's room. The stillness of the early morning was interrupted only by the soft breathing of the little girl lying in bed. Her pale face was relaxed, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the worry lines etched into her forehead had begun to ease.

As the sun rose higher, a soft murmur broke the silence, and Lucy's eyelids fluttered open. She blinked slowly, her vision adjusting to the light, and then her surroundings came into focus. She recognized her room, the familiar comfort of her bed, and the faint scent of lavender that always seemed to linger in the air. But what caught her attention most was the figure slumped in the chair beside her bed—Alaric, her big brother, who had spent the entire night by her side.

"Alaric…" Lucy's voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to stir Alaric from his restless sleep.