The sun had begun its daily journey in the sky of Etherfield, its golden rays filtering through the thick branches of the trees surrounding the small village. The grassy ground stretching before Theo was wet with morning dew, reflecting the patches of light like scattered jewels. A cold breeze blew from the nearby forest, carrying the scent of damp soil and pine needles, but it wasn't enough to soothe the tension brewing in the chest of the twelve-year-old boy. Theo stood in the middle of that open area, holding an iron sword Kyle had just thrown to him moments before. His hands were trembling, not from fear, but from the exhaustion that had begun to seep into his muscles after years of relentless training.
His body was trembling slightly from the intensity of the training that had begun at dawn. In front of him stood Kyle, the Rank Five warrior, with his messy gray hair that blew with the breeze, and his piercing eyes like a hawk's watching its prey. He wasn't holding a sword like Theo, but a long wooden stick, polished from frequent use, yet his aura made it seem more dangerous than any blade, but since Theo received the first blow, he knew his hands wouldn't be idle this time. His height exceeded Theo's by about two heads, and his broad shoulders gave him the appearance of an unyielding mountain. He wore a linen shirt and short trousers that allowed him freedom of movement, while Theo wore hardened leather armor.
Kyle roared, "Come on, boy, if you don't wound me with this sword, you won't leave here except carried on the shoulders of others, and remember well, if you use magic, I will make your body ache for a whole month, and you won't find anyone to pity you."
Kyle's warning was like the sword itself, sharp and decisive, piercing Theo's thoughts and stirring within him a mixture of challenge and dread. The boy felt his heart pounding violently in his chest, as if war drums were beating within him, announcing the start of a battle that wouldn't be ordinary. Theo locked away his magical power with his strong will, plus the seal's strength, certain that he wouldn't resort to it even if it was the only means of survival.
'Magic would be much easier, why don't I use it?' Theo thought as he focused on Kyle.
Magic was a part of him, the power of his shadows which had always protected him as if Theo was its favored son, but Kyle placed Theo before his first fears that would linger in his mind for a while, desiring him to be a warrior, not a mage. He raised his eyes to Kyle and saw in them a fighting intent that slew its enemy with a mere glance, the gaze of a man who was accustomed to victory and had tasted defeat only rarely.
The sword was not a familiar weapon to Theo; over the past three years, since he began training with Kyle at the age of nine, he had relied on daggers, those light weapons that granted him speed and accuracy, suited to his stealth skills and his magical abilities that allowed him to merge with shadows. But Kyle insisted on this training, saying that a warrior must master all weapons, even those he doesn't prefer.
Kyle would repeat this sentence whenever the boy tried to object, "The enemy won't ask about your comfort, Theo."
Kyle suddenly shouted, "Begin." He raised his stick in a defensive stance, as if challenging Theo to breach his fortress.
Theo took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts that flowed like a raging river. He remembered those long years of training, where Kyle taught him that combat wasn't just physical strength, but a mixture of mind, will, and tactics. He tightened his grip on the sword's hilt and felt its weight pressing on his palms. The sword was much longer and heavier than his daggers, which made him feel strange, as if he were holding something that didn't belong to him.
Theo thought, 'The sword is extremely heavy, not like my daggers at all. How do warriors use it like this?' But he shook his head, trying to push away those thoughts, and charged forward, raising the weapon with both hands.
Theo aimed a diagonal strike towards Kyle's right shoulder, using all his strength in an attempt to prove himself. 'I'll hit him quickly, show him I can,' He aimed for a quick hit, something that would force Kyle to acknowledge his skill. But Kyle, with incredible speed, raised his wooden stick and easily blocked the blow with the side of his stick as if blocking a child's attack. The sword struck the stick. Then, with a light and precise movement, he pushed the sword away, causing Theo to step back, feeling his arms shaking from the force of the block.
Kyle roared, "Wrong. You're holding the sword as if it were a dagger. Relax your shoulders, boy, and use the weight of your whole body. Don't rely solely on the strength of your arms. The sword isn't a light tool you can swing however you want. It's an extension of your body, moving with you as if you are one."
Theo stopped for a moment, panting, trying to absorb Kyle's words. 'That's right, why didn't I notice that, I was stupid.'
He felt embarrassed by his obvious mistake; how could he not have noticed this before? He knew that the sword was different from the dagger, but he hadn't thought of completely adjusting his method. He carefully relaxed his shoulders and tried to adjust his grip on the hilt, holding the sword more steadily. He moved his body slightly, trying to feel its weight as Kyle had said, but time didn't allow him to ponder for long. Suddenly, Kyle attacked, aiming a swift blow with his stick towards Theo's right arm.
Theo couldn't dodge the blow; he had indeed tried to dodge by leaning his body to the left while thinking, 'Very fast, I didn't see it coming,' but he lost his balance and fell onto his left knee, the grassy ground shaking under his weight. He felt a sharp pain from his knee hitting the ground, but he didn't care; what occupied him most was Kyle's voice, which boomed again.
Kyle said, "Get up and stand steadily, Theo. Your legs are too far apart; this makes you slow and easy to fall. Bring them closer together a little, and distribute your weight evenly on your feet. Balance is the foundation of everything."
Theo got up quickly, feeling disappointed in himself. 'Simple mistakes, how could I forget them,' He knew that these were basic mistakes, mistakes he had learned in the first months of his training, but he hadn't paid attention to them in the heat of battle.
He adjusted his stance, brought his legs closer together a little as instructed, and tried to distribute his weight between his feet. He felt more stable, as if his feet had become a part of the ground, but he knew that Kyle wouldn't give him a chance to rest or think for long.
Theo advanced again and tried to aim a horizontal strike towards Kyle's chest, using the weight of his body this time as he had been taught. The strike was stronger than the first, and Theo felt it was smoother, 'This is better, will I hit him this time?'
But Kyle blocked it with his stick with complete ease while holding it in his left hand, as if it were nothing worth mentioning. The sword struck the stick again, the tremor of the blow spreading through Theo's arm. Then, with his right hand and a swift movement, Kyle delivered a powerful punch to the right side of Theo's chest. Theo felt the impact of Kyle's solid fist, the air instantly rushed from his lungs, and pain exploded in his chest like fire. The boy staggered back, panting with difficulty, feeling that the air had left his lungs.
Now he had been hit in the chest twice; while he had barely continued after the first, the second was different from the first, as air wouldn't enter and Theo tried to force it in, but the matter was very difficult for Theo; just the passage of air was burning, and its exit was even more painful for Theo.
The air leaving his chest carried his thoughts with it; his mind wandered often and his focus would return, as thoughts came into his mind, 'Very tired.'
'I want rest.'
'My lungs hurt.'
'It burns very much.'
Kyle noticed Theo, looked at him with pity, then quickly hid it so Theo wouldn't notice, and roared, striking the ground with his stick as if emphasizing his words.
"Don't just use your arms, move your feet with the strike; this gives it power and makes it faster. You're still thinking as if you're holding a dagger, but the sword needs your whole body."
Theo felt exhaustion creeping into every part of his body, 'Very tired, I can't breathe,' But he nodded, and moved his hips this time with a diagonal strike. The strike was stronger and smoother than before, and Theo felt it was closer to being right, 'This is better.'
But Kyle blocked it with his stick again, then hit Theo's right thigh with his stick.
Kyle said, nodding slightly in approval, 'Well done, but you're still slow. Watch my feet carefully. I will strike from the side I lean towards, so pay attention.' Theo looked at Kyle's feet and tried to follow his movements with tired eyes.
'Where will he go? To the left?' He noticed that Kyle leaned to the left before his strong strikes, as if adjusting his weight in preparation.
He decided to take advantage of that. He moved quickly to the right, and tried to direct a thrust towards Kyle's right side, maintaining his focus. But Kyle was ready; he quickly spun and blocked the thrust. 'Not again, he knows,' then delivered a powerful blow to Theo's back with his stick.
Theo fell onto his knees, 'My back hurts and my lungs feel like they're about to burst,' and the air rushed from his lungs again. The pain in his back was like a whip, constricting him and making him feel that every movement was a miracle, and the injury to his chest was also affected by the blow. Then he tried to get up, but his body was resisting him, as if begging him to give up. 'I can't get up, it hurts too much,' but he remembered his mother Elena's words, those words she had said to him one night while they were sitting, 'We all grow old, Theo, and we will weaken in the end, and whether we are strong or not, we will all weaken.' 'I must protect them,' If he wanted to protect her someday, or protect those close to him from the dangers that lurked, he had to persevere now, no matter what it cost him.
Theo forced himself to stand up, 'I must stand up,' holding the sword with trembling hands, and sweat dripping from his forehead.
He felt that every breath he took was a small victory. He raised his eyes to Kyle and saw in them a scrutinizing look, as if he were evaluating the extent of his disciple's determination.
Kyle said, nodding his head, 'Good, but your will alone won't be enough to defeat me. Adjust your hand position; you're gripping the sword too hard, and this slows down your movement and makes it jerky.'
Theo adjusted his grip, trying to relax his hands a little as instructed. It was difficult, 'Relax my hand, but the sword will fall.' He was used to gripping daggers tightly to ensure accuracy, but the sword was different. He advanced again and tried an overhead strike, focusing on the movement of his hips and distributing his weight.
'This is the last strike in this round, he won't hit me,'
But Kyle blocked the strike easily, then delivered a powerful punch with his fist to Theo's stomach.
Theo retreated, panting heavily, 'My stomach, I feel like my insides are coming out.'
He felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He felt that every instruction from Kyle revealed a new world of mistakes he hadn't noticed before. But he also felt that his body was approaching its limits, as if every blow was pulling a part of his soul from him. He tried to calm his breathing and focused on the attack distance this time.
'Safe distance,' He advanced cautiously and tried to deliver a swift thrust towards Kyle's shoulder, maintaining a safe distance as he had been taught. 'This time I'll hit him,'
But Kyle, with a precise movement, caught the sword's blade with his fingertips. 'Unbelievable, with his bare hand,' then hit him forcefully on the side of his head with his stick.
The world faded from Theo's eyes again, 'Second time,' and he fell to the ground like a felled tree trunk. The cold grass touched his face, but he didn't feel it. All he heard was Kyle's distant voice, shouting in a strong tone, 'This is the second time, boy. The third will be the last if you don't learn.'
Theo suddenly woke up, cold water pouring over his face like rain. He gasped sharply, the coldness slapped him and brought back some consciousness. He slowly opened his eyes and saw the blue sky stretching above him, 'The sky,' while the sun's rays were piercing through the branches to cast wavy shadows on the ground. His body was trembling, and every muscle in it screamed with pain, as if begging him to stop.
'My body hurts, why am I continuing?'
He raised his head with difficulty and saw Kyle standing in front of him, his stick ready in his hand, like a war statue that knew no fatigue.
Kyle said, his voice carrying a stern tone, but with a slight hint of encouragement, as if he saw something in the boy that was worth the effort,
"Get up, Theo, you have one last chance before I end this training. Prove to me that you're not just a child playing with a sword."
Theo could barely lift the sword from the ground, but he got up, relying on his will alone. 'Last chance, I must do it,' His eyes were burning with determination, despite the exhaustion that almost defeated him. He remembered all of Kyle's instructions he had received that day,
'Relax your shoulders, distribute your weight,'
'Watch my movements,'
'Don't reveal your intention,'
'Move your feet,'
'Adjust the attack distance.'
Every word echoed in his mind like a sacred law, trying to apply it despite the weakness of his body. He looked at Kyle and saw in him not just a tough coach, but an unconquerable mountain, but he knew he had to try, even if it was his last attempt.
Theo whispered to himself, his voice barely coming from between his lips,
"I won't give up."
He advanced with stumbling steps, as if each step was a battle in itself. He tried to read Kyle's movements carefully and noticed a slight lean to the right, as if preparing to block an attack from the left. 'This is my chance,' He decided to take a risk again. He relaxed his shoulders, adjusted his grip on the sword, and moved his hips with a diagonal strike towards Kyle's chest, maintaining a safe distance.
'This is the last chance,'
He shouted with all his might, pushing the sword forward, but Kyle's stick was faster, and the last thing he saw was the blue sky, it was very beautiful and clear, 'Beautiful, the sky,' and before his vision turned black, the last thing he thought was,
'I didn't even last an hour.'