The next morning came quickly, with my father abruptly interrupting a dream about cooking delicious food. I groggily sat up, not protesting, before eagerly donning a simple sleeveless shirt and brown pants that tied in the front. The fabric was a bit rough, but they were sturdy, breathable, and flexible.
“Good morning. Come outside with me, no need to wake your mother.” My father said in a hushed tone.
I nodded and followed him, taking my boots outside with me but not donning them. He led me to a clearing behind our house and garden, a stretch of land free of trees and buildings about a hundred feet between our home and the forest.
“Before I can teach you I’ll need you to come at me with everything you’ve got.” He grinned as he tossed me a dull, battered training sword. It was a shortsword but felt much more like a bastard sword to me, considering my size. I blinked, looking down at the floor as it hit the grass, and back up at my callous cocky father. I picked up the sword, feeling its weight. I gave it a few practice swings, slicing through the air. I could tell already my technique is sloppy, I wasn’t delusional. It also felt heavier than I had expected. I knew that swords typically ranged from one to five pounds in my last world, but I was unsure if with levels that would still be the case. However, feeling the weight of the blade in my hands I understood it was likely still the case, for amateur swords at least.
After my practice swings, I turned towards my father, holding the sword with both hands. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that my having a weapon while he was unarmed was to my advantage. The man had decades more experience than I did, alongside the benefits of skills and levels. I steeled myself, ready to give this quick spar everything I could.
I swung the sword at him, a soft whistle following the tip of the straight sword. It was similar to the medieval straight swords I had seen knights use in movies, just much more ragged and beat. I did my best to only swing the blade as much as I had to, to not let its weight pull me. I was slightly successful but even still, my inexperience and my age showed through. My father simply stepped outside of my range as I slashed at him once again, each time taking a few leisurely movements to dodge my strenuous ones. It frustrated me, the difference that levels could make. The cockiness on his face as he observed me. I growled, irate at the nonchalance he was showing me, and lunged at him, thrusting the sword towards his belly.
Then I had a thought. It was crazy but even though he was training me I wanted to land at least one hit on him. So I did something I had seen plenty of in media, I swung at him but as I reached the apex of the swing I released the blade having known he would dodge it again. I used the momentum to twist my body and lash out with a kick, letting the tip of the blade penetrate the ground. As I kicked at my father, I felt it connect with his arm, his eyes a little wider than before. I spun, grabbing the sword again as I did so, twisting to slash at him diagonally. I kicked off of the ground and stabbed at him again, as he sidestepped, I changed my thrust into a horizontal slash, desperate to hit him. He just caught the blade and smiled at me.
“I think I’ve seen enough.” He grinned, tapping his chin as he considered how I fought. “You have decent battle instincts, or at least decent ideas when fighting, but your sword work is sloppy. The first thing we’ll do is ingrain the eight basic sword techniques into you. After I show them to you, I’ll have to head to work, and aside from some sparring in the mornings these will be your exercises until you can complete a hundred of each within two hours. That’s roughly 6 practice swings a minute. It's intense but doable, though it may take you a month or more to be capable of it. Understood?”
I nodded at him, panting a bit. The brief spar winded me, my heart was pounding in my chest, and sweat dripped down my face. “Yes sir.”
He took the training sword from me, the weapon looking small next to him. “Watch carefully. I will show you each of the basic techniques, afterward we should have enough time for me to watch you do a couple of each. Also, pay close attention to my stance.” He took a wide stance, both feet shoulder length apart. Knees slightly bent, he raised the sword. “First, vertical downward cleave.” He swung it down, the wind whistling and screaming. “Second, upward vertical cleave.” He swung it back up, having to twist his arms a bit to do so effectively. “Diagonal downward slash, both left to right and right to left.” He demonstrated both, using only one hand instead of two. “Aaand back up.” He swung the sword back up, from left hip to right shoulder then from right hip to left shoulder. “And finally horizontal.” Left to right, right to left. “Those are the eight most basic sword swings. Of course, there’s much more to swordplay, but you’re not ready for that yet. So, for now you will do these eight techniques in repetition until you can complete one hundred of each within two hours. On top of those I'll have you do a basic calisthenics workout; pushups, sit-ups, squats, and a twenty kell jog. Once you can do that, you’ll be ready for me to teach you some footwork. We will spar every morning and I will give you tips each time.”
He handed me back the sword. “Now, show me what you’ve got.”
I took the sword and took up the same stance that he did, one foot slightly behind me and straight with another in front, knee bent, about two and a half feet apart. He stepped behind me, using his feet to adjust mine, holding my shoulders and guiding me into a proper stance. “Good, back straight. Bend your knees a little. Now, vertical downward cleave.” I did as he said, adhering to his guidance. I slashed downwards, stopping before the tip of the sword tore into the earth.
“Okay now upward slash.” I did that as well, and we rinsed and repeated with each technique. He gave me some advice at each stage before having me repeat the cycle.
I followed his instructions, staring straight ahead as he had me repeat the cycle a few times. After a bit he looked up to the sky, noting the sun cresting over the trees. “I should probably make my way to the guardhouse. You did good, although you were fairly stiff. You'll get it eventually. You'll need to take breaks. Start with 25 of each thing, including the pushups, situps and all. This is your first day training, no need to burn yourself out before you even get started.” He put a hand on my head, not minding the sweat wetting my hair. “Oh and make sure you stop for lunch and drink plenty of water. Its important.” With that he walked back towards the house, leaving me to my training.
I already knew it was going to be too hot to keep my thick shirt on so I took it off, also taking off my heavy boots so I was barefoot in the grass. I swung my sword, standing still. I swung it again and again. It was exhausting, the three pound sword now feeling like it was thirty. I committed to doing 25 of each technique. After an hour I had completed half, my progress slowing as I felt the burning of every muscle in my arms, shoulder, back and chest. At first, despite moving somewhat slowly I was able to do upwards of around ten swings a minute. But my endurance quickly proved to be unable to handle that, so I slowed down even further to six a minute, as my father had recommended. Unfortunately I had to take a few breaks between repetitions to ensure I didn’t overwork myself.
As soon as I completed my final swing, twenty-five of each type, I sauntered to the well and pulled up a bucket of water. I drank straight from a ladle and poured the cold water on my back and chest and head uncaring that it was wetting my pants as well. Then I collapsed, falling to the ground with the sun beating down on my chest, my back growing dirty as the soil combined with my sweat. My entire body screamed in relief as I lay there closing my eyes. After what seemed like mere moments I heard my mother call out to me from the front door.
“Lios come in for lunch!” Grumbling, I stood up, feeling my body cry to me. But it was a good ache, an ache that proved I was making some progress at least. That said I did something, that the exercises weren’t for nothing. I slowly walked through the garden. While my legs were not under as much strain and duress as the rest of my body, they were still aching from holding my stance for so long.
As I stepped closer to the door, seeing my mother watch for me, I saw her glance up and down my body, pursing her lips. She noted the dirt, the sweat, the exhaustion in my eyes despite my only practicing for a few hours total. “Perhaps you should eat outside today, enjoy the fresh air.” She suggested in a tone that made it clear it was not just a suggestion. “I’ll be back out with some food and juice.”
“Yes mother, thank you.” I replied quietly before sitting down and leaning against the house, feeling the rough stone of our foundation at my back.
It didn't take long for her to return. She set a plate with bread, smoked beef, cheese, and a glass of juice next to me. I quickly got to work turning it into a sandwich of bread, cheese and beef and took three quick large gulps of the juice feeling refreshed.
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“Don’t push yourself too hard kiddo, you have a few years yet before you need to think about being strong.” She voiced her concern as she looked down at me, hands on her hips.
“No need to worry Ma, I’ll be okay I promise.” I said between bites of my sandwich. “You’ll still be teaching me later, yes?”
She sighed wearily. “If you're even able to stay awake. I swear what is your ol’ man making you do?” Without waiting for a reply, she went back inside for a few moments before coming back out and refilling my glass of juice. “Drink your fill, and remember to hydrate as you train. And don’t stay out in the sun too long you're already starting to burn and…”
“Mom, I promise I'm okay. I’ll take plenty of breaks. I'm taking it as easy as I can but I still want to push myself a little bit.” I smiled at her before taking a long drink of the juice. It wasn’t quite orange or grapefruit but something in between. Our town wasn’t too far from the ocean and was located pretty far south so we had access to many tropical fruits and vegetables. We even grew a few fruit trees within the tree line of the forest behind the house.
“I just worry about you son, you're too young to be worried about this kind of thing…” She shook her head. “But I ‘spose nothing I say will stop you huh?”
“Nope, nothing. Besides, I’ll probably be a ladies man once I get strong, isn’t that a consolation?”
“You're just like your father. Okay fine. Just make sure you wash up before supper or I'll make your father be stricter on your exercises.” She shook her head but looked at me endearingly.
“Yes mother. I guess I should get back to it, no time like the present.”
“Oh, I like that saying… where did you hear it?” I froze a little, I didn’t realize I was using idioms from my past life.
“Oh just… heard another kid say it, maybe he picked it up from his parents? Anyway, I'll be off.” I stood and stretched a bit before taking off slowly toward the clearing where I had left the training sword.
“Okay! Don’t forget to take breaks, and I’ll have clean clothes waiting for you when you get back.” She waved me off.
I nodded and waved back before I started working on doing my pushups and sit-ups and squats. They were agonizing. My body was already in such pain that each push up made me tremble. I could only do a few at a time before needing to rest and settled for doing twenty-five of everything this time as well. After around two hours I finished the last of my exercises for the day, my small body covered in sweat and dust. I went to collect the soap and towel and clothes my mother had set out for me before trekking through the woods towards a small, isolated creek my father would take me to to wash up every so often. On the way I ran past my fox friend's burrow and stopped for a few moments. It didn’t take long for the ball of affection to run up to me.
“Hi Bri-Bri I’m sorry I don’t have any snacks, but we can play for a few moments!” I sat on the ground, my back against a fallen log as she came and cuddled in my lap for a bit, letting me pet her as she gave occasional affectionate licks and nips to my hand. The wild fox snuggled against me lovingly, adoring having her fur stroked.
It felt like the next hour and a half went by in a flash, sitting near the fox’s burrow and just relaxing for a bit. Before too long I had to leave, to go take my bath. “I’m sorry Brioche but I have to go wash up before dinner okay?”
Almost as though the animal understood me, she rolled around and presented me her belly to pet, as if to try to convince me to stay. I laughed and scratched her belly for a few moments before standing up, and walking the rest of the way to the creek. Before I got too far I realized Brioche was following me but I didn’t mind.
There was a thin footpath leading to our spot, and once there I set all my clean clothes on a rock where Brioche decided to sunbathe a bit. Afterwards I stripped down, completely naked, and stepped into the creek until I found a rock that I liked to sit on while bathing, once I sat the water reached up to my chin. The water was cold and brisk, but after the day’s events the cold felt heavenly.
After a moment of basking in the coolwater I started to use a piece of cloth to wipe away the dirt and sweat, nearly jumping out of my skin when I heard someone clear their throat. I jumped and started to turn around. “Nono hun, don’t turn. Keep facing the way you're facing.” The feminine voice twinkled lightly but firmly, stopping me in my tracks.
“Apologies ma'am I didn’t realize there was someone else bathing in this creek.” I said relaxing and sinking back into the water. I started to wash off the dirt and sweat from my back, now also accompanied by leaves and twigs from playing with Brioche.
“Just don’t turn around okay, kiddo? I don’t need you asking your parents about lady parts.” She giggled this time, the sound following the cadence of the running river.
“I know about… Nevermind, but don’t worry I wont take a peak.” I continued to scrub the places I could reach, hoping the water would help wash away the rest.
After a few moments of watching me struggle to clean my back she giggled again. “Let me help with that.” Her voice appeared far away but without making another sound she seemed to teleport behind me. I stiffened up as she took the cloth from my hand, reaching over my shoulder, and started to wash me. I glanced at the water and noticed no ripples or movement from it.
“H. how did you do that?”
“Do what? Don’t worry about it.” Her voice was definitely closer than before, which I supposed was a given. “Now tell me, how in the world did you get so dirty?”
“I was training, is all…” I replied, unsure if there was any merit in saying more.
“Oh I see. Interesting. And what is one so young training so hard for? You can't have even gained the system yet.” She laughed in a motherly way, her voice sounding like the river itself.
“I wanted to get a headstart. It’s never too early to start on one’s path.”
“Ooh I understand. How tenacious you are, aren’t you? Here I thought that you humans would instead opt for playing rather than reaching for growth.”
You humans?
“I suppose I'm likely an outlier… But what do you mean by you humans? Are you not one?”
“Hehe no I am not. But that isn’t so important as you may think.”
“Hmm…” I considered what she said. I knew the world housed other species, but I had yet to pay witness to any others. Our small town of Arborton was home to only humans. “Might I have your name, miss?” I requested quietly, sure she would hear me. My theories already running wild.
“Hmm there’s no harm in that. My name is Brook.” She said with much less of the twinkle and natural cadence I'd already come to expect from her, her voice was instead rumbly, like the rapids of the river. It was interesting how natural the sudden shift felt. “Your back is clean now. And it's starting to get rather late, I’m sure your parents are beginning to woe over your absence.”
I sighed as I felt her drift away from me. I turned towards the shore, noticing that Brioche had left again, but not worrying too much about it. The fox could take care of herself and often did. “Thank you, Miss Brook. My name is Lios.” I didn’t receive a reply. After I made my way to shore and retrieved my towel I turned to look at the stream not seeing any sign of Brook. After looking around for several minutes I finally dressed and went back home, barely making it before dinner was served.
“Always cutting it rather close, aint ya boy?” My father calls me out as I step into the house smelling fresh roasted fish and potatoes.
“Papa, is there a woman named Brook in town?” I asked as I sat down and mother placed our plates on the table.
He stroked his hairless chin. “Not as far as I know, why?”
“I met her down at the river while bathing.”
“Well, what did she look like?” my father asked and my mom watched me carefully.
“I’m not sure, she told me not to turn around lest I see her nude.”
My parents exchanged a brief, perplexed look while chuckling softly.
“Also… sorry dad I was only able to do about a quarter of the exercises, like you said. I was hoping to do a bit more but my body isn’t capable of doing them all yet, as much as I wish it were.” I hung my head a bit, changing the subject from the mysterious woman.
“It's okay kiddo. You did better than I expected though your mother gave me an earful when I got home anyway. Said I was too harsh on ya.” He laughed and took a scalding bite of the fish, impatient for it to cool off.
“Mommm I told you I was okay. And I’m not too tired for your lessons either.” I smiled at her and flex a little to show I’m okay but resulting in me wincing a bit. “You’re still gonna teach me, right?”
“Of course, just as soon as we clean up from dinner.”
It didn’t take long for us to finish eating, clean up, and reconvene at the table.
My mother was a much softer instructor than my father was. Gentle, kind and patient with me. She taught me slowly even though I was quickly starting to pick up the language.
“So let us start with the letters okay? You'll read them, write them, then once you can write each of them legibly we will move on to the spelling of different words, okay kiddo?” My mothers soft voice made me feel a bit warm. I may have had other parents before, and schools full of teachers for most of my last life, but the caring gentle teachings of someone who loved you could never be a bad thing.
After a few hours of teaching me she sent me away to sleep, I had an early morning again of course.