Pillar of Strength

The cold air blew against his face and tugged at his long black cape. His thick black hair ruffling in the wind as he stared at his master with his soft blue eyes. His feet were buried deep in the snow and his sword hung lazily to his side.

“Stop hesitating and come at me with everything you’ve got Dealer!” the old man commanded.

Dealer clenched his teeth and grabbed his long broad sword with his two hands and with one sudden movement, lunged at his master bringing his sword up through the snow. Dealer’s master struck down hard against Dealer’s blade and kicked him in the chest throwing the young man back on his back, knocking the wind out of him. Dealer coughed and hacked trying to catch his breath as he looked up at his master staring down upon him.

“It takes more than brute strength and a large sword to defeat your opponents my son. Now get up, pick up that sword and bring me to my knees! I will not allow the guardian of the Icefire to be protected by a man who is weaker than I. Now get up!” the master said as he turned and walked back to his position.

Dealer pulled himself up and looked at his father’s back as he walked away and then beyond him at the tall mountains of Krothaine and the tranquility they offered by simply gazing upon them. It had been 10 years since Dealer had been assigned to his first position as a bodyguard and now for nearly a month his father, Draywhik Cregoth, had been ruthlessly testing him in all forms of combat, bringing Dealer to the brink of death on a few occasions. Today was no different. The day started at 5am with a brisk hike up the snow covered mountain carrying all his available weapons and dodging the multitudes of traps his father had laid the previous night. They usually ranged from rolling logs to trip wires unleashing all sorts of hell that only a cruel father could think up. Once at the top it was time to gather wood to start a campfire for their breakfast and just like every other morning, as soon as Draywhik had finished his last bite he pulled out his sword with one hand from his belt and swung at his son to continue the trial. They would only stop once to eat and finish when either Dealer lost consciousness or the sun was close to setting.

A throwing knife flew next to Dealer’s face landing in the snow behind him. His father’s scarred face looked at him with deep dark eyes, “That would have been your 36 death today, now focus!” Dealers stared back at his father and considered his options. He had his large broad sword which was easy to see coming no matter how he attacked with it. He thought for a moment at his belt of throwing knives strapped to his chest and the various daggers he kept on his belt and in his boot. Those weapons may help him create an opening but he had tried many times before with no success, his father was just too skilled a fighter, even if he carried just a few knives and a long slender sword. Suddenly it hit him, Dealer had thought of a new strategy to take his father down. Again he grabbed his sword with two hands and stepped forward letting it trail slightly behind him to his left. His father simply stood there waiting holding his sword in his right hand with his long gray hair blowing in the wind.

“Try stopping this!” Dealer yelled as he stepped forward with his right foot and pivoted to his right quickly tossing his large sword at his master and quickly unsheathing one of his daggers and running at the older man as fast as he could.

Draywhik stepped to his right and brought his sword up to deflect the oncoming projectile and simply muttered “fool” as he swung at dealer’s left arm. To his surprise, Dealer blocked the blade with his dagger and reached out for his father’s neck with his right hand. Draywhik grabbed his son’s right wrist and let himself roll back bringing Dealer down with him and tossing him clear over himself. Dealer flew through the air and once again landed hard on his back. Draywhik walked up to his son and thrust his sword through Dealer’s right shoulder. Dealer let out a terrifying cry of pain as the cold blade withdrew from his muscle and flesh.

“That is number 37 and I am growing impatient. A proper guardian NEVER releases his sword unless his arms are torn from his body by his enemy. Now then Dealer what will it be? Will you carry on the name of Cregoth with the pride and dignity it deserves or will you bring shame to all of us and return to the village a worthless defeated man?” And with that Draywhik pulled out his sword and walked back to his position waiting for his son to attack again.

His father’s bitter words hurt him as much as the wound he had just received. What was wrong with him he wondered? How could he, a young man in his prime, still not be able to take down his aging father? Surely his fore-fathers had past this test much faster than him. All those years of training and he still felt inexperienced; he still couldn’t live up to his family’s name.

Dealer looked up to the sky; the sun was maybe an hour or two away from setting. Again he breathed in deep as he tried to fight the pain emanating from his shoulder. He slowly stood up and grabbed his cape and ripped off a strip to apply to his wound. Once he patched himself up he walked over to his sword and went to grab it with his right arm. No good, he couldn’t lift it due to the wound. How was he supposed to fight his father left-handed, tired and wounded? His mind was getting tired of all the thinking, all the planning. It seemed that no matter what he’d try, he’d just end up on his back again anyways. Maybe he’d be lucky and pass out again, that would end the day much faster.

For once, Dealer let go of all sense of thought, he closed his eyes and picked up his sword with his left hand. It felt heavier and much clumsier in this hand but that didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that he continues fighting and swinging at his father. If he didn’t take him down today, then maybe tomorrow, or the day after that, or maybe next week. Maybe he’ll have to fight him every day until his father passed away from old age but it just didn’t matter anymore. He wouldn’t give up simply because giving up isn’t an option so there’s no point in wasting time thinking about it. As he stood there with his eyes closed, he felt the world around him and the living being inside him. He listened to the wind, the branches rustling together, the snow falling to the ground in clumps, his heart beating deep within his chest and his breath entering and leaving his body. He lifted his sword in front of him and grabbed hold of the handle with his second hand more out of posture than actual support. He started to walk towards his father with a slow pace. The type you would only see in a man who has given up on everything and is longing for death. Inside he felt no emotion, no sadness, no hate, no care, just pure simple determination. He swung at his father’s neck; parried. Brought his stance down and raised his sword to deflect his father’s counter blow. He quickly spun to his left and swung his sword around forcing his father to take a step back. Following with the momentum of his spin, he brought the sword up and down towards his father’s head. Again his father parried, he quickly re-positioned and swung from the side; parry again. Relentlessly he moved forward, each step accompanied by a swing of his sword. He had his father mostly on the defensive and when the old man countered, Dealer simply blocked or dodged the strike and continued on his assault. Four, five, six steps he had forced his father back and he was not ready to stop. He would force him back all the way to the village if he had to. Swing, block, swing, parry, and swing the two went for what felt like an hour when suddenly something unexpected happened. His father took one step back and his foot slid across some ice forcing the old man to fall to one knee. Dealer looked down in awe for a split second but that was too long as his father turned his forced kneeling into a roll and came up next to Dealer with his sword drawn up against his neck.

“And that my son, is 38. Now grab your stuff, we’re heading back.”

“The sun is still up.” replied Dealer.

“No matter, the challenge was to bring me to my knees and you’ve done just that.”

“You weren’t forced, you slipped.”

“And who told you that luck wasn’t to be considered in battle? Besides it was your attacks that led me to slip therefore it is your doing. While you are far from being worthy of the Cregoth’s name to protect the Icefire, you have completed your first challenge.”

Draywhik looked into his son’s eyes and knew something had happened within him. With that he sheathed his sword, turned and headed towards their cabin. Dealer followed behind staring at his father’s back still not sure if he should be feeling happy or frustrated. “It doesn’t matter what I should feel.” He finally told himself. He had passed his first trial and had to continue until the day would come where his people would look to him as the representative of the Cregoth family, not his father.

Written by: MSJ