“A pity.”

  Said the man who had gotten an upper hand on his opponent and now had him under his feet with his sword to his throat.

  “You are lucky I wasn’t prepared, otherwise it would’ve been the other way around.”

  The boy responded.

  “Excuses, excuses, hope you run out some day.”

  He answered and helped the boy up.

  “I won’t, because next time you’ll be looking for one”

  They both laughed and sat down on the stumps nearby to catch their breath.

  “Loran, you are going on a serious mission, mastering the way of the sword will be difficult, you will face many difficulties, obstacles and you should be ready to take them on.”

  The boy looked at him, sat silently for a second before saying

  “I will face them head on”

  The words came out of his mouth, not from his heart.

  Deep down he knew he was not ready. He had grown up in Tyflarin; spend his childhood and teen years wondering around the streets of that city, making memories around it.

  “That’s good to hear” He responded, “That’s how it should be.”

  Loran listened to the words directed to him he loved being Praised, it was uncommon for him to ever hear encouraging words about his work.

  “That’s how it will be Jon”

  Calling him by his name was common for Loran, almost as if talking to his peer.

  The man at his side was his cousin, nearly twenty years older than him, yet they spoke as friends.

  “There’s your uncle Loran, you know what that means”

  Loran nodded, his face glimmering with excitement.

  He knew what it meant.

  They were going for a feast, one last before his parting to Anysar.

  To the city where great swordsmen were born and made.

  In Tyflarin there hardly ever walked someone better than Loran in his age, he was feared, respected and loved by most.

  That was the tragedy of it.

  He didn’t have much competition or proper training.

  No one knew of his existence, no one cared.

  He knew, he understood, but wasn’t concerned.

  He cared for every one of his friends, never turned his back on any of them.

  But as any mortal, he got blinded by arrogance.

  He was never arrogant, until it came to his ability and skill.

  That’s when the caring part of him slept and the eyes of a arrogant lout opened.

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  The look in his eyes showed the carelessness, pride and pity, of how he had fallen.

  Words that left his mouth were as venomous as grand serpent and burned like a pyre lit for a king, its flames rising to a height of a mountain.

  No regard for feelings, no regrets of his actions or a thought of the its weight.

  Only later he felt, regret and sorrow.

  Suffering the consequences of his actions.

  But there was never any consequence, the suffering came from the weight of the actions and thoughts about its result.

  Sleepless nights followed, that only ended after the thoughts passed over.

  They left for the feast where all had gathered;

  The round table sat all of who loved Loran, and wished to see him succeed.

  The words of sugar and honey poured from each one’s mouth.

  Praises, best of wishes and few advices here and there.

  The circles went on as the wine ran out in the flagons.

  Toasts drank to the young man, sat at the top of the table.

  He listened, forced a smile on his face and showed gratitude.

  He knew the path he was about to go down was leading to the abyss. He desperately looked for glimpses of hope amongst the darkness that had stood over his head.

  “Maybe it is for the best. It might not be as bad as I think, most importantly I get to fulfil my dreams.” He calmed himself but the thoughts that followed were the ones that made him restless.

  What if there was no place for him in a new pack? What if a lone lion couldn’t understand the blabbering of cayotes.

  Those thoughts drove him mad, but the decision was made. He was going to see and whatever awaited him would soon be unveiled.

  The decision was his to make.

  Being a master swordsman was a dream;t hey were valued, respected and possessed wealth beyond any peasant could ever dream of.

  The wrong part of the three had captivated him.

  He was obsessed with the coin that came with it.

  The coin was the goal and that’s was the horrid part.

  He didn’t realize or ever gave a thought to it. If he wanted to be a swordsman and spend most of his life swinging sword, practicing and fighting.

  He was sat there, thinking about everything but, the most important.

  Did he wanted to do this? Not as a job;

  But as an obsession, something he could do for the rest of his life and never lose passion for it.

  The feast passed over quickly, everyone went back to their homes as the sky closed its amber eye and opened the grey one.

  Or at least that’s how it was told to children, a world which was overlooked by a giant who had two eyes, but he could only open one.

  One was open then another, amber one shined bright and brought light to the world, the grey one brought darkness, but under the dim white light here-and-there to guide the path.

  The legend told that the giant had looked over the county and loved it so much that it decided to always look closer.

  Whenever he looked with both eyes, he grew tired quickly and when he rested the world fell into total darkness.

  He immediately understood so he thought of only keeping one of his eyes open, that way the country always had a light for guidance and he could always look at it.

  He went to bed as well

  “Don’t forget, we are leaving early tomorrow” His father called out.

  “I won’t, I can’t wait.” He responded.

  His father smiled at him and went to his chamber.

  Loran lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking of all the great things he had heard about the place he was going to.

  Thousand-year-old culture, lovely people, mouth-watering cuisine and warm spring weather.

  And even if that was never the case, one of the best training schools that a swordsman could ever go to.

  He was going on a path that was longer and harder than he thought, but as long as he dedicated everything, nothing was unachievable, just need the heart and the spirit of a warrior.

  The body would also be necessary if he didn’t have one.

  He felt his thoughts fading, his eyes slowly becoming heavier and heavier until they were closed.

  The mind went to rest; he felt it and obeyed.

  Before wandering off to the world of dreams, something surfaced in his mind, a single sentence.

  “I can do this!”