Sephir is not his brothers keeper (because that's the best title for this I could think of)

“Hold it Aros the Arch mage’s quarters are of limits.” The elderly wizard, and two of his mage guard stepped between the young man and the door to the Arch mage’s tower. These liars, and imbeciles will hold me no longer Sephir Aros thought to himself I’m finished with waiting. A flick of his staff threw the mage guard from his path. “Do not do this Aros…” The wizard began throwing a spell of fire at the young man “Go directly to hell!” Aros lashed back, and striking his staff on the ground released a blast of silver electricity, that sent the old man’s suddenly lifeless body though the tower door. Sephir stepped over the man’s charred corpse as he made his way into the surprisingly spacious (at least the size of any castle hall he had ever seen before), and the most elegant tower that he had had the privilege of seeing in his life time. He wasted no time climbing the stairs that lined the large room instead he fixed his gaze on the room at the top, and shouted in anger “Arch mage who has named my claim to the tittle a jest, He who has become a puppet to that spider of a woman who shares your bed. By the rite of our father’s blood I challenge thee!” Instantly a blast of golden light filled the center of the room, and forced Sephir to shield his eyes.
"A teleportation spell, am i supposed to be impressed, am i supposed to be frozen still in awe of your power?" Sephir clapped sarcastically "congradulations you saved thirty seconds walkinng down the stairs" “Why are you here Sephir?” The arch mage stood in the center of the room a saddened look upon his face. The two young men faced each other they had the same brown hair, the same pale skin, the same tall yet thin build. They could have almost been twins, only they were not that was what called Sephir to me this day the Archmage thought to himself. He thinks this is his right as my elder. “Oh you wouldnt believe me if i told you, but if youre looking for the short version...” Sephir laughed, then his tone changed, and his silver eyes burned with a hateful flame not the impulsive rage most had come to expect from him, but a slow flame he had spent years kindling. “I’m here to kill you of course Aron.” As the phrase crossed his lips they formed a horrifyingly cruel smile, the mad flame in the young man’s eyes grew brighter, and his mages staff glowed its silver glow. Aron took a step back at this his brother had always been resentful of his power, but he had never been quite so bold or nearly so hateful. Whomever this lunatic before him was it could not be his brother.
“Think about this Sephir you can’t win, and if you start this there’s no going back for you.” Aron pleaded. “Oh my dear brother, I’ve thought about this more than enough.” Aron glanced once again into the mocking eyes of his elder brother. “Very well then.” As Aron spoke golden energy shot from his staff towards Sephir, who carelessly deflected it with a wave of his hand, and began a slow walk towards his brother. Without a moment’s hesitation Aron called forth a swirling torrent of fire powerful enough to scorch the stone around them, to his surprise the torrent was soon countered by a vicious gust of wind. Sephir continued his slow pace seemingly unphased. Aron was left speechless by his brother’s new found power, had he finally learned how to channelling his hatred into an advantage? Golden power glowed around Aron as he prepared to unleash all the energy he could and finish the fight once and for all.
With a grin Sephir tapped his staff on the ground. “Ah brother’s magic” he mused to himself “Majestic, powerful, and most of all highly unstable.” A concentrated blast of his silver energy and the magic around his brother burst. Aron flew backwards, a thin golden haze had been spread by the explosion. Sephir drew his dagger, he had finally reached his brother, then he said something solem stopping for a  moment he seemed almost remourseful "Brother… whatever they did to you... I know you dont know what youve done or what im saying but im going to put it right... I know youd want that if any of you is still in their” with that he lifted his brothers head and prepared to slit his throat “Please uncle Sephir.” A small child’s quiet voice behind him made the man seemingly beyond dissuasion stop cold, in his tracks. The madness, and the hatred disappeared from his eyes. Sephir slowly turned to face a small girl her face was red from freshly shed tears and her ruffled brown hair almost obscured her pleading eyes.
“If you hurt her Sephir I swear I will….” Sephir ignored his brother’s empty threats. He gently placed a hand on his niece’s shoulder, and kindly spoke to her. “Natalie this is no place for you right now, go back to your room.” Still she with her pleading eyes remained “Daddy says you are going to kill us uncle. He says that you want to kill him to be arch mage, and you want to kill me so I can never challenge you.” “Is that what you believe? That I want to kill you?” Sephir asked in the most calming tone he could muster. Sephir would never lay a hand on his niece and, there was no way his brother could have suspected otherwise. “Yet another one of Aron’s lies Sephir thought to himself. Natalie shook her head “Just daddy.” Sephir turned away back to his defeated opponent once again taking up his dagger when the sobbing girl grabbed his leg as if to try to hold him back almost causing him to drop it again. “Uncle I know daddy stole from you, but you can’t kill him.” Sephir shook free his leg and wordlessly resumed his task. “Please.” She weakly murmured
Adrenaline, power, and a mask of confidence had held back the weighted sorrow brewing within sephirs heart. But with his niece sobbing quietly on the stone floor at the prospect of losing her father he couldn't help but regret what he had to do. She was the only family he had left, but she was too young and sheltered to see what her father had done, the atrocities he had committed and the terror he had brought upon his own people. Sephir murmured a small prayer as he slit his brother's throat



So essentially thie is the prologue the rest of what i have so far basically focusses on sephirs life and how things got to this point

Chapter one: The dark transaction

(Takes place a few years prior)


Pillars of smoke rose from the factory, a depressing tower of industry, akin to an infection in the heart of this once beautiful city. Sephir plodded along the forlorn street a handsome man in a red velvet robe he seemed about as out of place as anyone could have. A woman’s diseased cough reached his ears. The woman was propped up, against a vacant building through an ally along the side of street. As Sephir walked he glanced at her twisted body perhaps like the city it had once beautiful he thought to himself, but now a wretched thing deformed by famine, and plague struggling to hide its self behind tattered cloth that appeared more akin to rags than proper clothes. Sephir quickly looked away disgusted by the dreadful place.
Then his thoughts turned to his mission. He had been hired by a foolish old sorcerer who had thought he could bind a demon to his will, had this been a normal incident he would have simply let the old man rot, but the demon in question had made off with a powerful spell book, and the demon would certainly grow very powerful if not soon stopped, not to mention the considerable reward the old man had posted for the book’s return.                                             “The guards should have handled this themselves.” The young mage mussed to himself. Of course the guards never showed their faces those days. The plague seemed to have driven them all away. Some fearless bunch they were. Sephir didn’t blame them of course, as a mage he was immune to the sickness, but had he not been he was not so certain the blight would not have driven him off as well. Not that any of that was relevant Sephir focused once again on his mission. He took a deep breath, slowly he savored the flavors of death, and something else. Strong and bitter like a spiritual version of a potent black coffee, he knew the taste well.
The something else he had tasted was coming from the vacant building behind the woman. Sephir flicked his wrist and the door exploded inward, and the young man stepped through. Destroyed furniture, and miscellaneous objects lay scattered upon the floor plates, shoes, a child’s doll “Someone must have lived here once.” Sephir thought to himself as he carefully stepped over the items. He heard a thud from the ceiling above him, and leaped forward just a claw struck the space where his head had been. As he hit the ground he managed to fluidly roll, and turn to aim a blast of magic energy at his attacker. The blast caused it to stagger backwards, but did little apparent damage.
The creature must have been at least seven feet tall it toward above Sephir almost reaching the ceiling. Its skin was plated like armor, rows of sharp jagged teeth like well-worn daggers lined the beast’s mouth, and deadly claws several inches long grew from its finger, its hungry red eyes stared at Sephir ready for its next meal. Demons feed upon the life forces of other beings to become stronger, the last time this demon had eluded Sephir, it had been his size almost a foot shorter, and not nearly as menacing. Sephir could not afford to hold anything back He struck the demon with the strongest bolt of electricity he could muster. The demon flew backward, and crashed through the floor howling in pain, hurt but not anywhere near dead. “What the hell have you been eating?” Sephir questioned more to himself than the demon.
The beast recovered with tremendous speed, faster than Sephir could react it was upon him again sending him spinning like a ragdoll through the open doorway, and out into the street with a single swipe of its hand. Sprawled out in the center of the cobblestone street the young mage attempted to rise only to feel a crushing weight force him back to the ground. “Oh lovely a demon who can wield a gravity spell.” Sephir had no idea how any source of food could make a demon gain so much power so quickly, but he doubted he could dispel it’s magic directly if only for the fact that he lacked a natural talent in defensive counter spells. As the demon hungrily walked toward him he noticed an old flower pot on a nearby door step. The flower had been long dead, and would not have been of much use to him anyway, but the dirt gave him an idea.
He lay there for a moment allowing the demon to advance recalling the symbols used to aid in a containment spell, and forming a clear picture of a basic containment ring in his mind. Then using a simple geokenetic spell he pulled enough dirt from the pot to form a ring around the demon. Before it could react Sephir had already magically etched out and charged the necessary symbols in the ring around the demon. The symbols themselves had no power on their own but certain symbols could hold a large amount of a type of magic energy, when used in the correct sequences, and charged with the correct spells they could assist a wizard in maximizing his power to more efficiently preform certain spells in this case the symbols where to make sure Sephir used the minimal amount of energy to keep the demon contained. By the time the beast realized what was happening it was too late. The beast thrashed against the containment barriers, and as it thrashed Sephir chanted a spell to separate the monster, and the dark energies from which the beast fed.
The beast soon collapsed no longer a hulking mass of dark power, but a much frailer creature. While it still maintained its size its teeth grew dull, and the armor plates protecting it brittle. When he judged it was weak enough Sephir smirked ceasing his ward, and his spell and stood. His robes had been tattered, and he had several small cuts covering his body. The demon staggered to its feet, and lunged once again at the young mage, but this time he easily sidestepped the sluggish attack, and the demon crashed with a loud thud, on the cold harsh stone of the street.                    
“Now I want you to tell me what you did with the book you stole.” The demon snarled defiantly. Sephir smirked, and sent a lesser surge of electricity through the beast. When it was at full power few things could hurt the beast, but as it was the monster cried out in agony. Sephir did not stop when it cried for his mercy, for it he had no more mercy for such a monster than it had had for its victims. He became enraged as he wondered how many innocent souls it must have devoured to become so powerful so quickly. Sephir allowed trace amounts of his own anger into the spell increasing its potency he longed to end its miserable life. Unfortunately he still needed the book so after he was sure his message was understood he ceased his spell.
“It’s…. in the house.” The demon managed between gurgled coughs of its own blood. “Elaborate please.” “The… the desk in the bedroom upstairs.” At this Sephir gave a beaming grin.                                                                                                                                                              “Thank you for your time.”                                                                                                                        “So I can go?” it asked skepticism thick within its voice.                                                                        “I need you to answer one question first.” Sephir’s face turned solemn.                          “Anything.” The frightened demon replied. Sephir saw the hope within the creature’s eyes. “How many of them did you let go?”                                                                                                     The demon eyes widened joy washed over Sephir as he saw the hope extinguish itself in the demon’s eyes. He tore into the creature with a single magic blast powerful enough to reduce what was left of the demon to dust. Sephir instantly regretted his decision, as he decided that the demon’s scream had been far too short.
Sephir found the journal in the room upstairs exactly where the demon had said it would be, as an afterthought Sephir remembered the woman outside, who had been sick with plague, and grabbed a blanket, and some warmer looking if questionably smelling clothes off the floor on his way down. The woman looked barely conscious, when Sephir reached her. She looked frightened at first, after seeing the cruelty he exhibited in his fight with the demon, but quickly took the clothes, and blankets from his hand with a weak. “Thank you sir.”                                       Sephir smiled a much kinder smile than he had given the demon. “The house is free now too.” He added as he walked away. The woman had a much better chance of survival with clothes, and shelter, and by the way she scrambled inside Sephir gathered she knew this, and continued to the sorcerer’s house.
Torches lit the outside of the lavish house, this side of town was farther away from the factories at the cities heart, though still devoid of official guards it did not lack security, as most living here were magic wielders, and no thug or criminal in their right mind would want to tangle with an experienced wizard, or sorcerer.                                                                                                  “Come in I’m in my study.” the sorcerer’s voice called from his third story window. Sephir obeyed, and walked into the house. As incompetent as the old man was Sephir had to admit he had more exotic artifacts than Sephir had ever seen. As he made his way to the sorcerer’s study he noticed amulets, along with foreign charms, and weapons lined the walls, and most of the furniture had beautiful carvings appeared to have been in the language of the eastern lands.
The stench of a rotting corpse greeted Sephir as he stepped through the doorway to the study, and it didn’t take long for him to discover why. He saw the body of a peasant laid out on an exotic altar markings, and magic aiding symbols carved into him.                                                  “Good to see you’ve returned young mage, I’ll assume you have my book.” The man looked pale, and much frailer than the last time Sephir had seen him, as if he hadn’t eaten or slept in the days since their last encounter.                                                                                                           “I don’t suppose you’d care to explain the…” Sephir motioned towards the dead body laying upon the altar. The sorcerer looked at Sephir for a second as if he didn’t understand the question, then it dawned on him.                                                                                                           “Oh you mean him… well necromancy has always been a hobby of mine, and I’m sure you’ve noticed the plague. As it would happen our new undertaker is having trouble burying all the dead, all I did was lighten his work load a bit. He was more than happy to let me take a few bodies off his hands for a small fee of course. You understand of course?”                             Sephir shook his head he was still nauseated by the smell, and to him the man seemed to have gone insane. “I can’t say I do.” Sephir stated setting the book on the altar.                                      The man looked disappointed “Shame, but I believe we have business to conclude.” He pulled out a large bag of coins, and handed it to Sephir “It has been a pleasure.” Sephir greedily took the bag, and stuffed it in his pocket.                                                                                                    “The pleasure is mine.” Sephir gladdened, by his newly heavy pocket, stepped out into the night once again this time his mind was set on the cozy inn he had been staying at just outside of the city.
At the gates there were bandits posing as the town guard to collect a fee from anyone who tried to enter or leave. They gave Sephir no trouble however they knew better than to attack a mage, even one who the found young, and alone. The masquerade was laughably obvious, and Sephir had no idea why King Rickard would not send troops drive them off, after all before the plague, and even after it had struck the city had been one of great industrial importance. He pondered this on his way back to the inn finally deciding that their king must just be unreasonably cruel, or incompetent.

KEEP IT COMING! I LIKE IT!

I'm introducing some new characters at the end of chapter one (following this line) which one would you like to we better developed?

The inn’s oaken wood door creaked, as Sephir pushed it open. The inn was quiet especially at this time of night. Only the portly old innkeeper Olaf, and his rather attractive daughter Caroline still manned the inn’s tavern, and to the best of Sephir’s knowledge no one else had checked in since he had been staying there. Few braved the plagued lands, and those that did would not often stay at inns as they were involved in more lucrative business, Beyond that few inns were even open as the owners did their best to avoid the plague even if it meant losing their business. Olaf, and Caroline however were mages, not unusually talented, and unaffiliated with any guilds, but the power of magic made them none the less immune to the plague.
Sephir hadn’t realized just how cold the night, had been until he was shaking off the cold next to the warm fireplace. Caroline took a seat beside him, giving Sephir a warm smile. She was friendly as always but Sephir could tell she was nervous. Olaf took the seat opposite him, handing Sephir a pint of ale. The three were silent for a moment. Sephir waited for either one of the other two to strike up a conversation, as they usually would. In the end it was the old man who spoke.
“Strange times we live in eh boy? When an experienced sorcerer hires a lone young man to reclaim a book from a powerful demon, and the young man not only succeeds, but manages to put an end the demon as well is just incredible.” Olaf chuckled, and sipped his pint. "I take it that your return is a sign of your victory or have I assumed too much?”
“Yeah it takes more than a demon to get rid of me, although if that one was any proper indicator not much more.” Sephir shivered recalling being trapped under the monster’s gravity spell that he hadn’t been quite strong enough to dispel
Olaf nodded thoughtfully taking another swig of ale. “Truth be told I was surprised you survived at all demons are a powerful lot give them a spell book, and they’ll have learned it front to back within a week. I remembered when I had fought my first demon as a young man. He was a weak bastard straight from the underworld with no time to devour any souls, and I had another mage with me, still he gave us a good fight, it took us over an hour to kill the beast.”
“How did you manage to kill it?” Caroline chimed in eyes on Sephir.
Sephir recounted his encounter with the beast, and how after a brief fight he had come realized its abilities had far exceeded his own. However its arrogance, and its lack of observation had allowed him to trap it in a concealment circle, and finish it off. Feeling that they might find it a bit gruesome, he left out his torture of the demon, and the creature begging for its life.
“I always hated that city.” Caroline shivers then adds “and demon for that matter.”
Sephir was about to agree when Olaf interjected. “Not all demons are purely evil, Greedy, and cruel certainly, they are rare but every now and again you’ll find one that is as well civilized as you or me.”
Sephir eyed the old man curiously it sounded unfounded, and very idealistic on the surface, but Olaf was too old to be an idealist, and it almost sounded as if he spoke from, experience and yet sephir was too tired to ask any more on the matter. Finishing his mug of ale quickly he bid them goodnight, handing Olaf a few more days worth of rent he retired to his room.

I don't think any of them need work, I think they're great!

Thank you, what I mean was one of them I don't intend on keeping, which one do you think I should keep?

I think you could keep Caroline, because Olaf is the name of the snowman in the movie Frozen

Yeah I figured she'd have more room to grow as a character, being young and whatnot