Brother and Sister
Written by: Alex Newbold
Well here is what I've gotten done so far. It's YOUNG Lucas.
Date: March 31, 1012 Brother and Sister Rufus raised his blunted sword in a salute, as his star pupil saluted him. It warmed his heart that such a young man was so talented and polite, considering the student's bloodline. After two centuries of serving House Harkon, Rufus had become accustomed to rude behavior from his students. This boy Lucas was a refreshing change from his older brothers, he also showed talent and interest, unlike his brothers before him. “Excellent master Harkon, respect the opponent as you would wish them to respect you. Even the lowest goblin can slip a knife between your ribs, but if you show them the honor of a face to face challenge then you can ensure that they will respect you.” He paused for a second, making sure that he had his students attention. “Now master Harkon, see if you can hit me. Attack!” Without hesitation, the young elf moved to attack. His sword flashing faster than the eye could follow. Rufus could hear the boy's boots strike the floor, but his eyes could barely follow the movement. Rufus's sword flew to defend himself, his mind not following the movement, relying on centuries of practice he blocked the near-feral attack from his star pupil. After a third and fourth stroke of attack, Lucas withdrew and Rufus breathed easy. “Now, master Harkon. How did you fail to hit me? Think back on your lessons.” Rufus watched the door behind Lucas open, as Lord Sardath Harkon entered with his troll bodyguards flanking him. Rufus felt his spine stiffen, as the air seemed to take on an unnatural chill. “Rufus, I lead with a shoulder thrust followed by a thigh feint and then I swung at your opposite shoulder. I used the momentum and speed of my attack to adjust my footing, hoping to catch you off guard and penetrate your defenses. Obviously, I failed to do such, as you blocked my first attack and knew the pattern I would launch into, as it is an acknowledged standard form of attack for a frontal assault. You, in fact, used the same attack against me two days ago, and I was able to fend you off with as much ease.” Rufus saw the talent in his student's words but could see the inexperience in him as Lucas had not noticed his father enter the room. While his sword arm was gifted, his situational awareness was lacking. Now that Lucas was done speaking, it was time to teach him a lesson. “My Lord Sardath.” As Rufus spoke he squared his shoulders, clicked his boot heels together, and gave a curt bow of his head to the lord of House Harkon. Even without seeing his student, he knew that Lucas had spun around to face his father, and was most likely turning heel in a movement to embrace his father. As young boys who idolize their fathers are want to do. Lucas smiled from ear to ear as he squealed in delight to see his father. His youthful enthusiasm had him cross the room almost faster than his sword work had been. The troll bodyguards move to step between their master and his son, Sardath raised a hand to signal them to stop as he stepped towards his son. Crossing the distance in an eye blink Lucas threw out his arms to embrace his father, only to meet the back of his father's hand across his face. Stopping in his tracks Lucas dropped his practice sword to the floor with a clang and put his hand across the rapidly spreading red mark on his face. His eyes wide with a mixture of terror and surprise, his balance faltered as he fell to the floor. “If you have to forgo the noble practice of the arcane arts, in exchange for the vulgarity of swordplay I will condone your youthful indulgence. But I will not have you approach me with a sword in hand, despite your vulgarity and insolence you are one of my sons and you will learn respect.” Sardath's voice was cold and precise, his words crisp and deliberate. Rufus felt that Sardath had practiced that speech a thousand times, but knew that it was simply the way that the master of House Harkon spoke. Rufus held his bow, denying his instinct to look to his pupil, knowing that compassion towards the boy would only provoke the lord further. “Father I...” Lucas stammered, his eyes welling with tears his words choking silently in his throat. “Tears? Weakness? Pathetic.” Sardath hissed, his eyes narrowed as he gestured to his troll bodyguards. “Give them blades, real ones.” The trolls gave each other sideways glances but moved to comply with their master. “If you wish to pursue a life of blades and armor, then show me that you are ready for it. Show me that you are ready for the pain and suffering to come. Swordmaster, humble my son.” Sardath clapped his hands together twice and took a step back, and waited. Rufus looked to his pupil and banished pity from his face. He knew that Lord Harkon would not suffer hesitation or compassion. Rufus had worked for the Harkon's for nearly two centuries and had the scars to prove it. He had always wondered when his final assignment would come, and today might possibly be it. Dead at the hands of his star pupil, or dead at the hands of one of the darkest mages in all of Faerie. Either way, he had his boots on and a sword in his hand. “Defend yourself, master Lucas.” Rufus began his attack, moved faster than he had ever shown Lucas that he could move, with a skill that he had only hinted at in his lessons. Rufus moved as if his life depended on it, as he had seen Lord Sardath vent his anger before. Want to read more? Find the author and ask, though you might have to duel for it. |
Created by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee
at 11-12-18 07:45 PM
Last Modified by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 11-12-18 07:45 PM
Last Modified by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 11-12-18 07:45 PM