Protector of the Enchanted

Standing in the empty clearing towards the side of the town, the earlier excitement is still in full force. The scabbard lays forgotten in the corner against a tree, far enough that it doesn’t get in the way, but close enough that I can still see it. As I was pulling him in a random direction, he managed to acquire a practice sword from someone. He argued that it wouldn’t be fair to fight a sword with arrows. Since I couldn’t wait to actually spar with someone, I didn’t say anything to the contrary.

 

“Are you ready to begin?” He asks, his sleeves have already been rolled up.

 

“Yes.” I nod my head repeatedly.

 

He takes one look at me and shakes his head. “No, you’re not.”

 

“Why not?” It sounds like whine even to me.

 

“You’re not wearing the right clothes.” He says, an amused grin on his face.

 

I look down, my eyes widening as I realise what he means. God! I forgot to change.

“You couldn’t have told me that earlier?” I exclaim, frantically going towards the bag that I’d fortunately had the foresight to take with me. Good thing too, because I don’t really think we’ll be able to go back to the room.

 

“Where are you going?” He called.

 

“To change!” I throw him a bewildered look, “What else.”

 

Then, without giving him the chance to respond, I hurriedly duck behind a tree, putting on a light lavender shirt and black tights. After changing, I throw the clothes at him.

 

“Don’t look at me like that.” He states, “You barely gave me enough time to collect my own bags before dragging me out the door.”

 

Huffing, I just stare at him. He’s right, I know, but there’s no way I’m going to admit that. It would just make him even more smug.

 

“Now, can we start?” He’s already packed the clothes into his rucksack. He just shakes his head for a moment, though a small smile remains. Then he picks up the sword and stands in front of me.

 

“I’ll tell you now; I don’t know how to teach people.” He states, “Don’t blame me later on.” I nod. It’s fine if he isn’t able to, it’s not like I’m a total beginner. I do have some self-defence training.

 

Without warning, he swings the sword right at my head, barely giving me enough time to move mine in front of my face. Then the sword draws back for a moment, heading towards another part of my body. I know better than to leave myself open. I jump as the sword nears my feet and then, thrust my body towards him, kicking him back.

 

“That’s cheating!” He exclaims, rubbing at his chest.

 

“Oops.” A grin spreads on my face, “Sorry.”

 

His eyes narrow, “I thought that we were here to fight with swords.”

 

“Yes, well, I don’t particularly like being attacked.”

 

A contemplative look comes onto his face, “Well, how do you suggest we do this then?”

 

I can’t help but roll my eyes, he really doesn’t know how to teach people. “Start of slow and then gradually build up.”

 

“Alright.”

 

For the next few minutes, he does what I told him to, slowly swings the sword in my direction, letting me get used to swinging mine to defend. I find that it gets easier to move the sword in the direction I want as we go on. Although, that’s not entirely a surprise, even with the moves we did in the self-defence classes, I found myself picking it up quickly. It almost made me feel as I’d known the moves all along.

 

“So,” He says, “Are you going to just wait for people to slowly attack you?”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I reply, “This was just a warm-up. The real fun is just about to begin.” Then, without giving him any warning, I swing my sword at his head, his hand only just moving the sword up to block me. I give him a teasing half-smile before aiming in a different direction. 

 

A smile blooms on his face, “Ok princess, you want to fight? Let’s fight.”

 

“I thought we’d never start.” I drawl, teasingly.

 

A small chuckle, “Just be warned, I’m not going to pull any punches.”

 

“Good,” I begin, taking a step back to get into position mirroring his, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

Immediately, the fight became more intense, so much so that I can’t focus on anything else. My moves began to form a continuous cycle.

 

Block. Attack. Block. Attack.

 

Step back to avoid the sword.

 

Lunge.

 

Don’t try to block, the sword, it’s too close.

 

Block. Attack.

 

Don’t take your eyes off of him.

 

Gradually, sweat began to bead on my face, my limbs starting to become more tired. However, as we keep sparring, I notice something. The presence of the sword doesn’t seem like a foreign one. It’s also getting easier to block, more like a practised motion than taking conscious thought. The sword feels natural, like it belongs in my hand. Like that’s where it always should have been.

 

As the fight becomes to heat up, the sound of swords clashing filling the space, only one word comes to mind. Storm Cleaver. That’s its name, the sword…my sword, ‘Storm Cleaver’. As soon as I think it, it feels right, the notion resounding deep in my soul. Why didn’t it occur to me to think of a name before?

 

Because you needed to feel it, something you couldn’t do by just staring. I suppose that’s true. I would have probably named it something like silver or goldy if I hadn’t fought with it. Barty is evidence of that.

 

Throughout the naming of the sword, I’ve continued to block and attack on instinct. However, I find that I’ve also been backed into a corner. If he moves his sword any closer to me, I won’t be able to block it. Not letting the worry show, I search for a blind spot in his attack. Come on. Come on. Oh! There it is.

 

Metal closes in towards me, clashing into the blade of my sword. Taking advantage of his attention on the sword, I bring my foot up, thrusting my leg behind his knees. Then, not stopping to see the impact, I use a free hand to knock at his wrist, making it open, and let go of the sword. It falls only an inch before the same hand closes around the handle.

 

Two blades are placed on either side of the fallen man’s head, a victorious grin spreading over my face. His eyes almost bulge out of his head, at seeing the blades pointed at his head, as soon as his eyes open. The hand rubbing at his back freezing in its action. Then, as he meets my eyes, a soft look replaces the shock, a smile forming in kind.

 

Loud cheering interrupts the moment, breaking me out of the trance. It seems that we were so focused on our spar, that we didn’t notice the gathering crowd around us. I sheepishly wave my hand, an awkward smile now replacing the grin. I thought we were alone.

 

“Congratulations.” Ryan draws my attention, “It seems you’ve won.”

“You’re not that adept at fighting with a sword, are you?” I ask, holding out an arm to pull him up.

He takes my hand. “No. Not really, I’d much rather use my bow.” He hesitates for a moment, “Although, it seems that you are quite adept at using one.”

 

I smile, that’s exactly what I thought, “Maybe one day, we should fight with two different weapons. To make it even.”

 

“Someday. You may be a natural, but you still have a long way to go.”

 

I press my lips together solemnly, knowing it for the truth it was. That fight had been way too close. “True.”

 

In a small clearing near a cottage, two people are sparring. The woman seems to be having fun, completely immersed in the fight. They aren’t using any weapons, only fighting physically. She laughs as she blocks a punch, while simultaneously kicking his feet out from under him.

 

“That’s cheating!” Theo exclaims.

 

“No, it’s not,” Celeste argues, “You really need to pay attention to where my legs are.” She laughs as he huffs, holding an arm out to pull him up.

 

Suddenly, instead of letting her pull him up, he pulls her down towards him. Then rolls over, until she is under him, stopping a punch an inch from her face.

 

Her eyes bulge at his shameless actions, “This is cheating! I was trying to help you up!”

 

He chuckles, “All’s fair in love and war, love.”

 

A smile grows on her face, she leans up and pushes his hand out of her face, then presses her lips to his. He leans into the kiss, barely noticing as she switches their positions and pulls back, her hand at his neck.

 

“You’re right.” She whispers, “All’s fair in love and war.”

 

He knew he should have felt irritated but all he could manage was faint amusement. A smile slowly spread on his lips.  “Alright, you win.” He whispers back in an adoring tone. She was just too cute.

 

“Yay!” She exclaims, jumping up in an instant, “That means you have to buy me food!”  She hurriedly pulls him up, not letting him catch his breath as she drags him towards a restaurant.

 

“So…” I drawl, staring him in the eye as we near the marketplace, “Where’s my food?”

 

He gives me an incredulous look, “What?”

 

“My food.” I state, “I won, didn’t I?”

 

“Yes…” His expression changes between shock and something else that I can’t quite place but looks suspiciously like helplessness.

 

“Then, I want some food.” When he keeps staring at me, I whine, “I’m hungry…”

 

The corners of his lips twitch, “Alright. I’ll get you some food.”

 

It’s sitting at a table, enjoying a scrumptious meal, where our companions find us. I whack Gem’s hand as she tries to grab a piece of chicken, which only elicits a laugh and many more attempts.

 

“Fine.” I sigh, “You can have it.”

 

“Thank you!” The food thief doesn’t hesitate to take a bite.

 

Ryan moves over to my side, so that Gem can sit with Cylen, who apparently is also a food thief. Shaking my head, I decide to just let it go, especially when I see the numerous bags resting at their feet. I suppose they’ve had a busy day as well. We sit and eat in peaceful silence. Which is very quickly broken by bickering when Cylen asks us why we look like shit. And then laughter.

 

The girl knew that this wasn’t the best idea. She’d heard from the servants at her castle that what the requests granted would come at a price. Frankly, she couldn’t care less. She had to escape that witch who’d married her father, had enchanted him to see only her. She didn’t care how everyone described her as kind. To her, there was nothing but an evil witch.

 

It would have been fine had her father not fallen ill.  Apparently, he’d caught the disease while helping some poor villagers. He wouldn’t last long, yet all his free time was spent with that witch. He’d even called her to the door of his room to let her witness him asking the witch to ensure her safety.

 

It disgusted her; she would not let herself be put under her care. Never. It was with these thoughts that she wandered around the edge of town, looking for him. They said that he only came when night was approaching. Any moment now…

 

“What do you want little girl?” A croaky voice whispered from behind her. Shivers went up her spine, feeling the ancient power in his voice, the mystery in his hooded form.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be all knowing?” She knew it was a vulgar question to ask, but she could not put what she really wanted into words. Not here.

 

“Ah! So, it truly isn’t just your desperation to escape that brings you here.” Contempt oozed from the sentence, “Very well, I do not care for the ethics anyway. What have you brought for payment?”

 

Reaching behind her, she pulled out the jewel studded necklace, the last heirloom from her mother. The hooded figure reached out and took it from her, she knew that she would likely never get it back. Oh well, it was only a necklace anyway.

 

“Heartless, I see.” The voice croaked in glee, “That gives me an idea. Now off with you.”

 

With those words, there was nothing left but mist, and the cold realisation of what she’d just done. She ran. She didn’t care where she would end up, as long as it was far away from there. In her frantic attempts to outrun any hint of guilt, she ran right into the forest.

 

Gem stands up, picking up the bags and shoving them into the wagon, she’d somehow come to acquire. I have to hand it to her, if there’s one thing she is, it’s resourceful. Although I think that’s out of necessity more than anything else.

 

“Ready to go?” She asks the group.

 

“Not really, but I wouldn’t want to be forgotten again.” Cylen says in a teasing manner.

 

Ryan only nods, looking towards me. I glance at the sword now tied to my waist and nod as well. “Let’s go.”