27 December 2012
Healer's Hands
The crowd that sat in the great battle arena cheered for their children as we stood in the center of the great arena waiting to be paired with our opponents.
I was the last in line which didn’t help calm my nerves as it should have. I waited as people were paired together. Finally the battle master, and my uncle, walked up to the person next to me and said, “Nekail, you will be facing off with Arak. You will be going first.” He said the last part to both of us
Damn, Nekail was the dirtiest fighter in the martial school, a school in the Herr Mountains designed to teach the arts of war to any of the children in all of Nairn who wanted to join.
I took my place at the other side of the arena and readied my swords, I liked to use two short swords just like my father used to until he died in the magic wars. I lived with my uncle until I was able to join the battle school, then I moved in with the other students of the school.
A horn blew out.
Nekail ran towards me.
I readied my blades for the assault.
He ran into me at full speed.
Now I was good, but nowhere near as good as Nekail. His strength and speed were too much to keep up with and I could tell that I was about to lose.
I parried, slashed, cut as best I could, but not one connected. I knew what was very possible to happen and all I could think about was not letting his blade touch me.
I felt the strength weaken from my muscles.
I think he knew I was almost out too.
He sent an overhead strike with his broad sword which I tried to deflect, with my strength gone though my attempt was in vain.
He sliced right through by defense and cut very deep within my chest.
Liquid fire filled my senses.
My last memory was falling as my uncle came running up to me with a healer right behind him, already summoning a magical light in her hands.
Then all I knew was darkness.
Chapter 1 • Opuss № I