Alistar didn’t end up fishing with the others. Instead, he’d gone off to Mr. Herst’s to ask the man so questions concerning so of the content that he’d been studying as of late. After spending most of the evening in his company, he’d gone ho to fill out the assignnt sheets that Mrs. Dawn had given him in advance for the following week’s howork.
Though Alistar’s days were busy and full of endless toil, it was a great distraction from the darker thoughts that constantly threatened the budding sense of normalcy that was beginning to settle in on his new life in Distan.
Despite his heavy schedule, he still set ti aside to play with Anice whenever it didn’t conflict with his productivity. He could tell that she had grown suspicious over him leaving the manor house so often without first coming to fetch her, which culminated with her asking after the reason for his secrecy one day during breakfast. He’d simply told her that he was reading at the collegia where there were books that the library at ho lacked, which she seed to have believed. Whatever the case, he had been quite surprised that she had let the topic dissipate so easily. Only after thinking on it for a while did he rember her words about doing her best not to bother him.
Still, he couldn’t ntion anything about his agreent with Zech because he knew that she would insist on accompanying him if she were aware that one of her other friends would be there. The amount of tis she could leave the estate each week was limited, so there was no doubt in his mind that his cousin would jump at any chance to see her friends. In her eyes, Alistar was surely her golden ticket away from the property’s guarded gates.
As it happened, he and Zech turned out to be very much alike. Both were highly competitive and boyishly rough around the edges, in the sense that they weren’t afraid of getting dirty and bruised. At tis, one of them would instigate a sudden race against the other out of an unspoken sense of competition. One would call out a boundary, such as a rock, wagon or tree, and the two would race to that point with every bit of their energy for the prize of earning temporary bragging rights over the other.
There were tis when the sumr heat was so persistent that they would set down their wooden swords in the middle of their training and retreat into the cool waters of the Greyline, where the two tended to horse around rather than relax. Playing with his uncle Raidon in the cold waters of that beautiful river by Crystellum had been one of the most enjoyable tis of Alistar’s life, and he was reminded of this every ti he and Zech decided to goof off rather than rest between bouts of sparring. They skipped rocks, splashed water, wrestled, and tried their hands at fishing from the riverbank with so of the homade fishing rods that were lying around the Dozen’s little eting spot, which they tended to borrow from ti to ti.
Today was just like any other day. After sharing a generous breakfast with Caedmon and Anice, Alistar retrieved the latest book to catch his interest and eagerly read through its final Chapters. Following that, he rushed to his morning lessons with Tramon—who was, yet again, still sleeping by the ti he arrived—following which he dedicated a couple of hours to studying philosophy with Mr. Herst by the Hanging Hill. Once finished, he went ho, where he was guilted by Anice into playing tag with her for a ti, after which they shared a light dinner together in Caedmon’s absence.
Once he was finished with his food, he hurried over to the river to et with Zech for their daily training. It wasn’t long before the sharp knocks of polished wood against polished wood tickled the air around their practice area alongside the Greyline, a region only visited by a sparse selection of fishern that were occasionally visible here and there along its vast length.
Twenty minutes into the sparring session, both of them sported nasty-looking welts on their arms and legs as well as newborn bruises of lighter shades that were visible on their torsos. Both had struck a respective stance, Alistar poised to strike while Zech was on the defensive. Their breathing was slightly heightened, their bare chests revealing traces of perspiration. eting one another’s gaze with focused eyes, small grins spread across their faces as they prepared for the next round.
"Here I co!"
Alistar darted in with excitent and slashed at Zech’s vertically-held sword. His friend deflected the attack easily enough, but Alistar quickly followed up with an aggressive lunge, infusing his limbs with the slightest amount of swordsman’s aura. Zech blocked this attack as well, though he was forced to take a step back in response to the recoil. Spotting the opening that he had created, Alistar began a precisely-tid barrage of simple yet accurate strikes, ending the sequence by slashing at Zech’s fingers and then lunging for his shoulder the mont that the other boy had dropped his sword.
He dodged it?
He’d been certain of his victory this ti around, but Zech had dropped to the ground with a desperate dive and then snatched up his fallen weapon mid-roll before hurrying to his feet in a flustered manner.
"Going for the fingers? That was dirty, Alistar." He took a mont to rub at his reddened hand, which seed to be the source of a good deal of pain. "I wish I thought of it first."
The look in Zech’s eyes told Alistar where to expect a hit once they resud.
Ever since they had begun putting their feeble swordsman’s auras into practice, their training sessions had grown quite intense. After becoming vaguely familiar with their limits, they had agreed to try to only use up to a third of their unique energy when on the offensive, while those on the defensive had full access to their relatively small capacities.
They were still warming up at the mont, so Alistar only used a third of his aura, which didn’t make much of a difference. He was still a novice, after all, so his strength would barely increase even if he poured everything he had into his strikes.
"Co on!" Zech taunted. "You won’t beat unless you use the standard strikes!"
The standard strikes that Zech was referring to were the simple offensive moves that Alistar had recently been taught. The two of them had decided to dedicate the training session to taking turns getting used to these new movents, cycling through offence and defence at an even and asured pace.
We’ll see about that.
Although it was a novice technique, it could be said that Zech’s stance and execution of the basic defences were carried out almost flawlessly. He reacted quickly, altering the stances of the technique in ti with the speed of Alistar’s strikes and promptly deciding on which stances in the set to respond with next.
He might be right...
Alistar attempted to close the distance but Zech swept out with a broad, horizontal slash, forcing him back. They had agreed to act as if their wooden swords were real weapons of sharpened tal, so he couldn’t simply just take a hit and then dash inwards. Since this was the case, he had no choice but to keep up a constant stream of strikes and then hope to force an opening.
Rushing in, he started off with a sequence of quick lunges, which were all side-stepped or swatted away in a panicked manner. He followed up with a mix of horizontal and vertical slashes, alternating between one-handed and two-handed grips to try to confuse his opponent. He wanted to win this round without relying on the standard strikes, which he knew would help him to break through Zech’s defence. The reason for this was, of course, that they were simply a more refined version of the attacks that he was currently relying on; more precise, better-tid, and well plotted.
Now!
After a minute or so of constant attacks, Zech’s stance finally faltered. Seeing this, Alistar seized the opportunity to send a quick slash at the boy’s exposed chest. Right before the hit connected, all of the air left Alistar’s lungs and he fell to the ground, astonished. Zech’s eyes glead triumphantly as he stood there panting, having just driven the end of his dull, wooden blade into Alistar’s abdon.
"Y—you scamr! You were only supposed to defend or drive back!" Alistar wouldn’t have imagined that Zech had feigned losing control, only so that he could strike out at his midsection with a one-handed lunge that left him completely winded.
Zech laughed ruthlessly. "That’s for smacking in the face! Or did you think I would just forget sothing like that?"
Staring at the faded bruise on the lower part of Zech’s right cheek, Alistar couldn’t help but find the boy’s words amusing.
"Why are you laughing? It hurt like a mother!" Zech rubbed his nose, a playful smile breaking out on his face. "My father’s still convinced that Jaden’s been beating ." He held out a hand and helped Alistar to his feet, the two chuckling as they took up positions opposite one another. "Oh, and I’ll get you back for my fingers in the next round."
Alistar felt guilty after seeing Zech wince from the laughter. "How is the bruise on your face faring?"
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