Chapter 1 – A Noble Beginning

Clack! The sound of wood hitting knee echoed across the courtyard. Panting, his dark sweat-matted hair held back only by two thin braids, the younger man stood wearily, using his practice blade for balance.

“Dar! Light son! It’s been about a year since I started teaching you and you are still trying that stuff. That will get you killed in the bloody Blight! The older and shorter of the two was not the less deadly man. Lyn was a grizzled blademaster and a veteran of many Blight skirmishes as one of King Nachiman’s captains. He had been fighting for longer than the other had been alive.

He sighed. How was he supposed to tell his mentor and teacher that he had gotten distracted by a girl? Darilen Therador stood almost a head and a half taller than Lyn at only eighteen. His shoulder-length black hair was held back by two thin braids rather than the typical Arafellin large twin braids. The steel-cold stare from his icy green eyes contrasted with a face that seemed more made for marriage than for fighting. Stunningly handsome, he had a blade-slender body that was opposite from the stocky frame of his mentor. Quicker, but not as strong as Lyn, he had yet to beat him in the year that they had been training.

Isabel Nachiman was the niece of the King, his younger brother’s oldest daughter and just sixteen. Beautiful beyond belief, she had men fawning over her that were twice her age. Like everyone else, Darilen had fallen for her. She was his younger sister’s best friend and came over to the house often to talk. On occasion she had stopped and said hello but he had not found the words or the courage to say anything back. For all of his good looks, he knew nothing of women and seemed confused when he noticed more than one looking at him in the streets. He thought that it was merely because he was the youngest son of Lord Therador and not because of his face.

“Do you mean to stand there all bloody day? Light! In my day we worked from sunup to sundown with no rest! I want to see The Woodgrouse Dances and Parting the Silk again. If you can’t do that without splitting your head open, I’ll wake you before dawn tomorrow for more blade work!” Lyn said. Lyn was like a father to Darilen, much more than his real father. The Lord Therador hardly bothered with his younger son, preferring to teach his oldest the ways of the nobility rather than teach the sword to his youngest. That responsibility was taken up by Lyn when young Darilen had asked to join his regiment.

He sighed again. Having Lyn as a father meant that the older man was never going to go easy on him. He was far away from being a true blademaster but he thought he was making good progress. Grudgingly he picked up the lathe and begun to move towards Lyn, swinging his sword from his right shoulder down to his left knee and then moved forward suddenly with a thrust towards Lyn’s midsection.

“That was awful. Now try The Rose Unfolds to Cutting the Curtain. We still have four bloody hours of daylight to go. Move!”

Darilen sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.

Chapter 2 – An Early Morning

“Wake up! I’ll see you in the courtyard in less than half an hour.” Lazy boy. When was he going to learn? Work hard and work late was the only way to success. That was how his father had taught him. Lyn grumbled and walked out of the room; it would be at least an hour before the young boy actually came outside.

Darilen groaned. The sun hadn’t even come up yet and Lyn wanted him to work forms already. He was really going to have to get him to cut back on these practices this early. How was he supposed to face a blademaster when he could barely stand up? He stood up wearily and began to get his clothes on…

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“Burn me! You call that Unfolding the Fan? I want Cat Crosses the Courtyard all the way to the apple tree and I want two buckets back here as fast as you can!

Darilen groaned. It was no use. It seemed as if he could never please Lyn. All he wanted to do was fight with the regiment in the Blight but Lyn had said he could not go until he thought he was ready. That was never going to happen. Lyn demanded excellence from all of his soldiers and for someone who was like a son to him, the level needed was close to perfection. He threw his shoulders back and walked towards his father’s apple tree in perfect form.

Lyn sighed. He loved the kid like the son that he never had. Dar’s father had no time for him; the Lord Therador wanted his sons to be perfect nobles and while the oldest was happy, Darilen wanted nothing more than to defend his country against the Blight. He didn’t want to let the youngster go so soon. Darilen should have been chasing girls, not Trollocs. However, the boy was a quick learner. He never made the same mistake and would probably pass for a blademaster in another two years. Probably would be leading a regiment himself far before then. “Bloody move son! I’ve seen children move faster than you!”

Darilen shook his head. Perfect wasn’t attainable, at least not yet.

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“Lightning Of Three Prongs!” Lyn tossed three red apples in the air and stepped back away from the area.

Darilen moved with the grace of a stalking lion. He focused on nothing but the constant burn of the flame of the Oneness and pushed all of his emotions outside of it. His long reach helped him as he slashed from his left shoulder down towards the first apple, thrust forward to hit the second, and quickly turned and knocked the third apple from the air above his head.

“Moon Rises Over The Lake!” Lyn tossed the fourth apple high over Darilen’s head.

Turning rapidly, the arc of the practice blade moved above his head. He found the apple mid-flight and lunged for the red fruit. Darilen made contact and knocked it out of its flight.

“Twisting The Wind into River Undercuts the Bank!” Two more apples flew from Lyn’s hands, both behind Darilen’s back.

His body contorting as he turned, Dar’s blade swung from his left arm down towards his right knee. Both apples burst from the impact and dropped to the ground. As he finished the turn, Darilen moved into Leopard In The Tree, ready for the next projectiles to be thrown.

“Enough. That’s fine for today. You did alright. Light sparring tomorrow afternoon. And don’t be late this time!” Burn him! Lyn didn’t think the lad would get so good so quickly. Only a year and a half and he was performing moves like a trained blademaster. He wasn’t strong enough to overpower anyone at this point but he was as quick as a whip and his height allowed him to get to targets that would have strained most. Lyn groaned inside. He was going to have to hold him back a little bit. He couldn’t have the youngster going off before he had his first true name-day to fight Trollocs and whatever other Light cursed creatures in the Blight. He was only a bloody boy!

Darilen released the void with a sigh and the world rushed back into his body. He was exhausted. Muscles burned with a fire that he never though possible. He had aches in places where he didn’t think aches could exist. Why did Lyn always work him so hard? Putting the practice blade back, he grudgingly pulled off his sweat-soaked shirt and headed back through the manor toward his rooms. All he wanted was to please Lyn and perhaps one day fight alongside him. It would be an honor. Darilen laughed. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to stand next to anyone when Lyn said he was ready.

The youngest son of House Therador didn’t notice the figure standing at his door until he almost ran into a smiling face. What was she doing here?