It was early in the morning, as a young man stood by a small grass hut and watched the sun come up over the mountains in the distance. There was a slight low-hanging fog covering the ground and the sky was ablaze with colors of orange, yellow, pink, and red. Today was his sixteenth birthday and little did he know that by sunset he would be more of a man than he had ever wanted.
He gazed over the field filled with tomatoes, corn, lettuce, raspberries, and strawberries. Then he looked over at the cows he had yet to feed and milk as his father came out of the house and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Beautiful morning, isn’t it son?” Tanver asked. “Yes, father,” Garin replied. “Happy birthday, Garen… do you feel any older yet?” Garen smiled. “Not yet father.” “Maybe you will once the chores are done,” Tanver added with a chuckle, “and tonight I’ll fix your favorite pork stew with corn bread and start teaching you an important new skill.” “what skill would that be?” Garen asked. “Well you’ll have to wait and see… these chores won’t finish themselves.”
Garen wasn’t particularly fond of life on the farm but didn’t know any other way. However, he had always carefully watched his father negotiate with the traveling merchants and had kept his ears open for anything new happening. He thought perhaps one day he would leave the farm and see the world. He often kept these thoughts to himself though, because he didn’t want to offend his father. He found life on the farm to be boring and as of late had grown to loathe the daily routine of feeding and watering the cows, pigs, and horse, then milking the cows, and then going back down to the stream for more buckets of water for the crops. Usually they kept collecting buckets in the field for when it rained but this had been a particularly dry season which was making his chores that much more difficult.
After Garen had finished the morning chores he started walking back to the house for lunch. When he opened the door, there stood his father with a broad smile on his face. In front of him something long laid across the table folded in a thick black cloth he had never seen before. “I was going to give it to you after supper, but you’ve been working so hard lately and well… I just couldn’t wait.” Garens eyes widened. He had no idea what was wrapped in the strange cloth but he knew it must be very special, whatever it was. He hadn’t seen his father this excited since the harvest festival in Benhart last fall when Tanver had snuck off with one of the barmaids and left him a gold coin and two silver pieces and told him to enjoy himself.
“What is it, father?” Garen asked anxiously. “Open it and see” Tanver replied with a beaming smile. Garen slowly approached the table as if the cloth were made of snakes and cautiously folded it back. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Before him lay the most beautiful sword he had ever laid eyes on. The pommel was a sphere that looked like glass and was almost entirely clear except a hint of blue in the center that seemed to shift and shimmer with a warm glow. The sphere was held by a silver dragon hand, and the scaly silver arm ran all the way to the hilt but only on one side of the handle. The handle itself was white with blackish grey lines and smears in it. It looked like it could be made of some type of ivory with smoke trapped inside it somehow. The hilt was a soft crescent and also silver in color with two more clear spheres on each end. In the center was a knights helm design with a slight groove on either side that traveled outward toward the sheres. The blade was three and a half to four foot in length with a blood groove down the center and had the same “smoke” lines. These seemed to be in the metal itself. From the hilt the blade was blunt and slightly narrower with strange designs etched into it and about four or five inches down it widened and the sharpened edges began. Garen was stunned. “Where… how…” he stammered. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it. “I had forgotten how beautiful it was” declared Tanver. Garen snapped back to his senses. “But this must be worth a fortune! You couldn’t afford this! Where did it come from? How did you get it?” he was rambling. Tanver laughed “relax son. I’ve had it a long time now since before you were born and I’ve been waiting until you were old enough to have it.” Garen looked up suspiciously, “where did you get it? Is it yours?” This made Tanver laugh even harder. “Of course it’s mine… from a long time ago” he added. “Now enough questions. Grab your sword and fishing pole and lets head down to the river.”
When they arrived at the river, Tanver picked out a large stick for sparring and they spent several hours going over basic strikes and stances, while Tanver tried to explain some battlefield tactics to his son. He revealed to him the difference between an aggressive stance that would allow him to make offensive strikes from several angles, and explained the benefit of knowing a defensive stance which would allow him to parry blows and protect himself until an opportunity arose to strike. He explained the advantage of speed for a one-handed sword as opposed to using a two-handed or bastard sword. He also taught him to focus; close his eyes and focus on a candle by an open window. Focus on the candle until he could get it to stop blowing in the wind. Become one with the flame, he said, and drive out all emotions. Only then could Garen let the sword become an extension of himself and only then could they become one. He told him to practice these moves until he could do them without thought and one day perhaps he would become a very good swordsman.
“But how do you know all of this, father?” Garen asked. By now he was aware that perhaps his father wasn’t the simple farmer he had always known. “A long time ago, son, before I met your mother…” Tanvers eyes seemed to glaze over and his voice took a quiescent more distant tone, “I was a soldier once.” He snapped back to the present with a start and looked deeply at his son. His eyes began to warm and moisten. “Perhaps I’ll tell you about it sometime. But for now let’s just relax and catch some fish, while there’s still light.”
No comments:
Post a Comment