The storm crept closer.
I felt another impact to my side sending me to the dirt of my town's little training arena. I let out a short ride as I collapsed dropping my wooden training sword.
GET UP!
A deep thunderous voice echoed throughout the baron arena. No spectators were allowed during my lessons unlike others, I looked up to the one who had dealt the painful blow to my ribs.
Tall and muscular. Looked the part of a warrior, unlike me. He wore leather armor all over his body and hide pants with leather boots. Across his face going over his nose was a massive scar that he says was given to him by my father. He was my father's master and know he's mine. Aren't I lucky. Swordman master Thand
You left yourself too wide open again. You're over-extending on your swing and too slow when you pull back to block...Hell, you're just sloppy in general."
I know. I replied slowly and painfully climbing to my feet. It's the same thing every time.
He could tell I was slightly agitated, and I directed that annoyance directly at him. For a little over a year now we've been at this and every time he wins the spar.
You turn 17 next month. This village needs you. With you're father gone you're the next in line.
I know.
Larger Kingdoms are slowly growing closer, and bandits and raiders are fleeing from them. If we are attacked to any degree that rivals last time.
I know.
Listen boy! Thand suddenly shouted. He reached out and grabbed the color of my cotton undershirt and pulled me in only inches away from his face. His yellow eyes burned brightly as his skin wrinkled.
I know! I shouted back at him. I already knew exactly what he was going to say... A crack of thunder shook my small village as the wind suddenly picked up.
You're father entrusted me with your training. You are the next leader of this village. We have no king. Just you. I know that...It was a shame you're father died so young leaving it all to you...but right now. You're all this village has to believe in for safety.
How could I lead this village? I can barely hold a sword yet am expected to protect us against bandits or hell another kingdom! My father was a great swordsman yet no matter how much I practice I can't come close! They all want me to reach his level but it doesn't seem physically possible for me!
Thand released my color and stepped back turning his back to me. He then began to speak but softly, like under his breath...I wasn't supposed to hear what he was about to say.
He's nothing like you, Paul. I don't know if he ever will be.
A storm surged within me after I mistakenly heard those words. I don't know what caused it, what triggered my anger. I tossed my training sword hard to the ground causing Thand to turn around quickly.
I'm not good enough!
The words came out of my lips before I could even think of them. They were spoken out of pure emotion. I couldn't live up to my father's skills no matter how hard I worked...It's just not something that's possible for me.
I'm not my father...
I turned my back to Thand as the first drops of rain hit the hard dirt slowly turning it soft. H heard Thad call out but a crack of thunder deafened his voice. I pushed through the swinging gates that marked the entrance of the arena and strud somberly into town.
The orange afternoon sky had turned dark. Darker than even the night itself. I walked through the town I was supposed to protect, and as I walked I passed multiple buildings still recovering from our previous attack.
The owners of those home's eyes were drawn to me. The one who was now in charge was me, yet I didn't bat them an eye nor offer any sort of help.
I'm sure the look on my face told them everything they needed to know. Lighting struck creating a bright blue flash....An image of my father coincided with that flash.
I-I'm sorry to all--all of you.
I muttered under my breath. Not that I needed to as a violent wind would have blocked out my voice either way. Not that anyone would accept my pathetic attempt at an apology.
I passed the horse stables. One particular horse was going mad in their braking through the sounds of the stampeding thunder...Eyes tracked me from within the stable. I could feel their judgment.
I left those ruined houses to my back as the storm grew more violent. I marched up to my home...my father's home. It was the biggest in the small village. Out the back was a long-winded river that he and I often fished out off.
I rushed through the front door and passed my mother's room without saying a word She was sick, and had been since father perished. I would usually stop in to see her as soon as I get home...but I can't right now. If I did I would end up speaking my emotions to her...she has no need to hear those.
My room was up a set of stairs, the third door on the right, with a perfect view of the river and the open valley past it. However, currently, that open valley is not visible. The storm had covered it in pitch-black darkness.
The hay inside my atriss crunched as I fell onto it letting the day's exhaustion go. It did not help, however.... it remained. My mind spun and I couldn't think straight.
My throat began to close as my breathing picked up matching the sound of each individual raindrop hitting the wood and hay roof. It felt as if my heart was going to stop right then.
Each lighting bolt and the thunder that followed it reminded me of my new responsibilities. I had been trying to run from them, hell I just did leaving Thand and his training...I wasn't capable of doing it.
A crack of thunder and the fire that covered the village that night reappeared, and my father was there grabbing his blade and rushing out the door without even saying goodbye. That was how quick he acted.
I'm sure he wanted to as something, but he knew every second that his people were getting murdered in cold blood. He acted fast and was cunning...he saved lots of people's lives that day.
BUT!-He left us alone! He left me in charge and made Mother sick. He left me with no explanation. He-HE!....Could have...
What could he have done?--just then a glint caught my eye. I looked to the doorway and found a sheathed sword slightly sticking up allowing some of the metal to shine.
It reflected the candlelight so brightly...It was an incredibly shiny sword. I stood and walked over to it feeling my heart slow down and my thoughts became slightly clearer. I bent over and picked it up slowly and gently. Like handling a child.
The leather sheet slid off smoothly revealing the shiny sword within. Then my breath caught in my lungs...It was--fathers. How did it get in here? It had been in mothers room last I saw-
So you found it...
I jumped at the sickly voice coming from my doorway. I turned and partially raised my sword in defense when...I saw mother.
Standing in her beautiful blue cotton fresh like she used to. Her long slick black hair brushed over her shoulder covering her ears....I rushed to her side as she stepped forward and staggered as she let go of the doorframe she was using for balance.
I grabbed her by the waist and placed her right arm on my shoulder as I helped her to my bed. As soon as she hit the mattress I began to spring my questions.
What are you doing up here!? Why are you out of bed! ?-did you really climb up the steps by you're self? You should off said something.
She chuckled quietly under her breath. Lie she was trying to stop herself from laughing at me. Then her soft delicate skin bent into a caring smile as she spoke.
I made it up here just fine without you're help didn't I, and without you noticing at that.
She had me there. Her hazel eyes drifted to the exposed sword I held in my left hand. Again she smiled and stared into its reflection. It was like she was looking into the past by staring at the blade.
I miss him... She squinted her eyes as tears began to bubble at the surface. I turned my gaze to the blade as well but before I could meet my own reflection she reached down and grabbed my chin pulling my gaze to meet hers.
You look a lot like him you know. She gave a gentle smile. I smiled back, but a moment later I remembered what I had just been thinking inside my head.
I pulled away from her slowly escaping her weak grasp on my chin. She leaned forward slightly as she looked up at me. Her hazel eyes shined from the tears being swallowed...She never liked to cry in front of me.
What's wrong? She asked. I looked away from her. I knew I could possibly hurt her if I said what I was thinking...but as I glanced back, her gaze was too sharp...She was stabbing her way into the truth.
I-I'm not like him at all. I let the truth slip. I expected the silence that followed, but as I forced myself to look at her I was surprised to find her chuckling silently to herself once again.
Why are you laughing? I asked.
Because...I find it funny that you think that. You and you're father couldn't be more alike-
Your wrong!
An impulsive scream coincided with a crack of thunder as the rain continued to pelt the wood and hay roof. My mother looked up at me with a confused look.
I'm nothing like him. We may share similar looks but we are nothing alike. He was courageous and skilled. He would jump in to help people out of pure impulse.
I felt tears beginning to fall down my cheek. These emotions were something I had kept checked...with my mother sick I didn't want her to worry more about me, but I couldn't hold them back this time. The disgust I held towards myself. The anger and the disappointment...it all came out in the form of tears.
He was skilled with a blade, and had tough skin. I can't remember a single time he got injured during his time training. He was trusted by the people of the village...they knew he could protect them.
Tears streamed dow nmy face like a waterfall. I had turned away from mother, but I couldn't bring my self to look at her.
I'm nothing like him. The people don't trust me, I hear their whispers I feel their gaze peiricng through hmy soul testing me. Every time I fail...Every time I feel their gaze I break.
Your wrong, again...Ciceal.
My teras reflected the candle liehg. The elting rain suddenly slowed down trign tinot a more calm drizzle and the stamped of thunder had drifted off into the distance...She said my name!?
Of course she says my name al the time but...her tone. Usally she sounds as sick s she is. Weak and like a whisper. This time, she sounded like her young self.
Memories of my child hood flasehd before my eyes. My father teaching me the basics of swinging a sword as I held a tiny stick that slightly resembled one. My mothers laugh off into the distance.
We all trust you...You're father was great that's true. I know hat better tan anone, but so are you.
I turned around my tears slowyln dripping from my eyelids curling around my cheek. My mother looked up to me with the most plesen sile. A beam of light then poured throg the window righting the entire world surrounding the village.
Stop chasing you're father. You don't have to be him you're your own person. Just keep going and be yourself and eventually you'll find yourself at his leel. You and him are the same,
She said it again.
You're both so increadablly kind You care about this village more than you're self. Thats why you beat you'rself so much over you're training, and you never realized it was actually hurting you koore...The night during the storm. Whe the raiders came...he left in a hurry right?
I remembered. I had just walked down the stories when I saw him putting his sword over his back. he shot me a quick smile and kissed my mother. HE the =n quickly booked it out the door.
I remember the screams outside that night. The clasihin of swords could be heard throughout the entire village...and after it was all done we still stood tall, bt my father never came back.
After they returned his sword. I remember my mother holding me in teras, at the time I didn't exactly understand what was happening, but soon after my mother became sick, and I had to begin my training to lead this village.
I ridiculed him before you came downstairs, about not saying by to your...and you wanna know what he said...." He doesn't need a goodbye, because me and him are one in the same."
I thought that was increadabbly corny, and apparently my mother ac=greed as she let out a healyy laugh for the first time in a while...but what my father said...Was he saying he doesn't need to say by to me, because....
If you ever wanna see you're father again just look at and into your'eslf alright honey.
The rain had ceased along with my tears. I looked won to my mother who still held that pleseant smile. I looked out the window and saw the orange afternoons sky still their, the storm had passed quickly...I could still-
I had one of the maids take his sword up hear. I wanted you to see it, because that's the sword you'll be using to fulfill you're fathers duty...You and him both ill continue to protect u.
A long pause followed where I simply starred out the window. Thiking about all that had just happened. Then a spike of courage was summoned from within me. I reached down and picked up the word and swung over my back and tucked it down in between my leather best and cotton shirt.
Yea.
I walked down the stares to the front door. Commanded one of our many maids to help my mother down to her room and opened the door into the orange snlcihgt. I looked dwo the slight hill our house sat on and into the small but vast village.
I don't have to chase my father because we are already one. Sounds corny but it helped...I can just focus on what Ineed to do to serve the people of the small village.
A confidence Ididn't know I had suddenly surged. I grabe my swod hand from my back and unclicked it slowly sliding it out of it's sheeck and holding it out in front of my fae. Tiney drops of water fell onoit it brighting the refleciotg even more as the sunlight bounced off of them.
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4 comments
I love the whole of this,but I would pay more attention to the grammar errors and the pacing,but for the rest of it;I loved every line!
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I would give the story a 3 out of 5. The emotional depth and symbolic elements are strong, but the grammatical errors, pacing issues, and areas needing clearer exposition hold it back from a higher score. With revision, particularly tightening the dialogue and cleaning up the writing mechanics, it has the potential to reach a 4 or higher. The core of the story is compelling; it just needs polishing to fully shine.
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Thanks for the critique. I want to progressively get better so criticism is necessary so I thank you.
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It was my pleasure, keep up with your good work. ☺️
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