Hello, everyone. I am really really really sorry about the late update. Real life got in the way.
Also, please tell me your opinions about the style I'm using. Are the italic thoughts working out? Is it too confusing? Annoying? Distracting? Please let me know...
___________________________________________________________
It was the sixth month of the year 894. In the courtyard of the Remlin household, two people stood facing each other.
The woman wore her plated armor, complete with her best sword, Dragon Slayer, and the red cape that identified her as a knight. The young man across from her wore a plated armor as well, although one could tell that its quality was inferior to the woman’s. He held two identical swords in both hands and had a big smile plastered across his face.
I can do this. I practiced a million times for this.
One…
Two…
Thr—
The young man launched himself forward. When he was less than a meter away, he jumped up and pointed the swords downwards. It would have been a fatal hit, but the woman simply blocked with her sword. The sound of the swords clashing shook the entire courtyard.
“Not good enough,” the woman remarked.
Ok. I expected that. Next is kick-push-attack. I can still do this.
He braced himself and kicked the woman’s stomach. With both hands on her sword, she could do nothing, but take it. She regained composure, however, and brought her sword down on him. He used her stomach as leverage and pushed off, gaining distance from her. Her great sword landed on the ground, a small crevasse forming on the soil. Then he ran towards her and attacked with both swords. She continued to dodge and deflect his attacks.
I still have one more trick.
He feinted by lunging forward, but instead of attacking, he grabbed a handful of soil and threw it at her. She knew it was a trick, yet she couldn't stop from blocking with her hands. Taking advantage of her defenselessness, he kicked her legs. She landed on her back, her sword far from reach. He didn't waste time and placed his sword at her neck.
Suddenly, she saw an opening and struck his wrist.
Shit!
He had to let go of the sword.
It’s okay. I can still beat her.
He continued to fight with his left hand while enduring the pain on his right. He bombarded her with a series of attacks. The two dueled for a long time. He slashed, while she dodged, and kicked. They kept trying to outsmart, or at least outlast the other. Gradually, the outcome became more obvious. The young man recklessly slashed at the woman. She naturally brushed it off and punched him in the stomach. He threw up blood and fell to his side, grasping his stomach and writhing in pain.
Damn it! In the end, I couldn’t win. Not even once.
She sheathed her sword, “I told you to train using your left hand more. Why use dual blades when you could not use both properly? I know you have practiced a lot; I can see it in your movements, but this is not enough to beat me."
The young man answered in between wheezing and coughing, "Practice? Ha! I'm Zen, remember? I only go play in town or relax in the garden.
"This is our last session since school is starting," she still continued, "but make sure to train every day even when you start attending school.”
"I won't practice."
"Drop the act, Zen. Everyone else may believe those lies, but you can't fool me."
He slowly stood up and saluted, “You're right! Thank you for everything, teacher.”
She rubbed his hair affectionately and said, “Rest up and good luck. I’ll see you soon.”
He waited for his teacher to leave before lying in the grass. He closed his eyes and rested.
The wind feels good today. It’s quiet too.
The quiet didn’t last, however. An icicle came hurling towards him. The young man simply rolled to the side, as if he was expecting it.
“NOO!!! That’s not fair, Zen! You were supposed to get hit!”
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
A young girl ran shrieking at Zen. She had light blonde hair and expressive blue eyes, very much like him. She was only six years old and the youngest of the Remlin children.
Zen laughed while patting her sister’s head, “Sorry, Minnie. I’ll make sure to get hit next time.”
Minnie folded her arms and pouted, “That’s what you said last time!”
“Why are you here? Don’t you have lessons at this time?”
“I don’t want to go to lessons! They are so boring! Ms. Anita is not fun at all,” Minnie continuously stomped her feet on the grass.
“You shouldn’t complain. You were the one who wanted to learn more magic.”
“I want to do magic. I don’t want to sit and listen to her all day! Besides, I can already do most of the stuff she’s teaching.”
Zen rubbed Minnie’s head, “That’s my genius little sister.”
Minnie smiled at the compliment, “What about you, Zen? How was sword practice?”
“You know, the usual. I attacked first. Teacher Sandra beat me.”
“You’ll do better next time. I’m sure of it!”
Zen did a fist bump, “Of course!”
“Hey, Zen,” Minnie started, “do you want to play with me?”
Suddenly, their head butler, Walter, called, “Young master Zen. The Master wishes to see you immediately.”
Zen rubbed Minnie’s head before leaving, “Sorry, Minnie. We can play next time, okay?”
Minnie put her head down and muttered, “That’s what you said last time.”
___________________________________________________________
Zen stared at the ornate doors in front of him. His father has always liked power, and these doors were another symbol of his absolute power as king.
What could this be about? Did he find out about my loss today? Damn, I hope not.
He took a deep breath and knocked.
“Come in,” a muffled voice bid him enter.
The cluttered desk, the opened windows and the smell of jasmine, his mother’s favorite flowers, greeted him. Zen took in the familiar sight of his father. King Edmund Remlin had brown hair and eyes, and a thick beard that complemented his large physique.
“Good morning, Zen. How are you?” the man behind the desk welcomed him with a warm smile.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Why are you so stiff? Did you do something?”
“What?!” Zen’s voice cracked, “I’m fine, honestly.”
“Good. I have news for you this morning, Zen.”
Zen gulped. His father was too happy for this to be “good” news.
“As you know,” King Edmund began, “being the third son means you have responsibilities to fulfill. Of course, you will never become king. Leon is already perfect for that role. However, it is a tradition that I give you a small territory to rule. ”
Wow. ‘You will never become king.’ Thanks for believing in me, father.
“After much consideration, I’ve decided to give you The Scorched Frontier. Don’t worry about it for now, though. You will officially become the ruler after finishing school. And even then, the staff there will do most of the work. You don’t have to do anything.”
You don’t have to do anything.
… don’t have to do anything.
… to do anything.
… anything
… thing
… nothing
… you're nothing
… nothing at all
I have to smile. Smile and laugh it off. It has always been like this. It’s not like I expected him to treat me differently after all this time. So smile, Zen. That’s who you are, The Radiant Prince.
Zen smiled his usual hundred-watt smile, “Thank you very much, father!”