No, I cant die, not so easily. The 3rd Father looked at him - mumbling in his sleep. He had been like this for hours, ever since they found him at their
doorstep bloodied and near death. They had only a few months till the Collapsing. One more added complication would only make things worse. The boy
was strong though, he recovered insanely quick even by their standards. He grinned, madness bright in his eyes, his face bulging with veins. Maybe
there was use for the boy yet, primals often appeared in unusual circumstances. Maybe the red rage was in him too.
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I began thrashing madly, where was I, what was I doing here. A man appeared in my vision, monk like, but wearing a weird cloak. I screamed madly and
tried to attack him. A single controlled and powerful backhand slap slammed into my cheek with inhuman speed. My whole head swung back and blood
began leaking out of the wound on my cheek... Is this how you return our hospitality? he questioned in a infuriatingly calm voice. He then remained silent
and looked at me as if trying to see what I was thinking. I glared at him and tried to get up. Brutal pain assailed my feet, but through my rage I ignored it
and got up to face him. Before I could respond a pair of strong hands grabbed my arms and began leading me forward. The first monk walked next to me
while the person who had grabbed my hands led me in the same direction. Too weak to resist, I allowed them to control me. I noticed though that the
person who had grabbed my hands was not bald like monk but had a similar black cloak. You were found on the threshold of death, we saved you. You
have in front of you 2 choices - we will let you go free or you can train to your full potential, however if we let you go - realize that there is only a tall
mountain teeming will beasts for miles around and you would be dead before nightfall. Decide quick......... I stared at him, so you're saying that either I
can be 'trained' or I can die. Not much of choice. You brought yourself here he said, its your own problem.
Its my prob.......Wait? Who am I? What is my name? The monk turned to look at me and decided that I had indeed lost my memory. It is of no problem he
said. It does not matter who I am or who you are. All that matters is that we find one more with the red rage. With that he turned around and led me to a
bridge like structure. It hung between two mountains with nearly a thousand foot drop below. I looked at where we had come from - a towering pagoda
with many orange tinted windows. It was made out of polished black wood. 4 gray pillars were set around pagoda in a symmetrical manner, each of
which connected to the spire on the top of the building. The pagoda was constructed at the top of a mountain, one made of grey stone and covered with
pointed shards of ice at random spots. It was beautiful yet dangerous, just like the bridge on which they were standing. The bridge itself was hung up by
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a advanced mechanism that looked to be made out of the same black wood out of which the pagoda was constructed. On the bridge were a number of
young boys around the same age as him - they bashed with their bare fists blocks of steel, with their bows they shot out arrows with tremendous
accuracy and speed. But only some of them practiced with unusual one - edged swords. The person who was still restraining my hands suddenly spoke.
This will be where you harness the red rage for the following months, it will be hard, it will be demanding. Either you will die by training or by the mountain
beasts. He smiled madly. Out of nowhere - a punch of tremendous force with unimaginable speed landed on my gut. I doubled over with pain. I looked up
to see another boy with his hands raised in a martial pose. He cupped his hand and struck my chest twice. I once again reeled backward and fell
headfirst onto the hard wood of the bridge. The person who had restrained me earlier introduced himself as 1st Brother and held out his hand, as if to
help me up. I took it gratefully and leant on him. 1st Brother suddenly backflipped and banged me headfirst into the ground. Again and again and again.
Blood leaked out of my head as if free flowing water. Never trust anybody, not me, not anybody here, nobody. That is your first lesson. With that he turned
around and left. I painfully got back up and roared in rage. Your next challenge is to hit that steel block, hit it until I tell you to stop! The monk who I was
sure now was no monk roared in a equally loud voice, with even more madness and rage. You pathetic sadist, I screamed. In my fit of berserk rage. I hit
the steel block once, then twice, then more. Faster, FASTER! The monk repeated crazily. I screamed and hit it again. Blood leaked, no flowed out of my
hands. But I persisted. Again... Again, Faster, Harder. I lost track of time and the only saw the steel block in front of me, what felt like hours passed, until -
- STOP! That's enough for warmup, next is archery. I am 3rd Father. You have already met 1st Brother - Your martial arts instructor. 10th Sister will
instruct you in archery..... What about the weird swords? I questioned. Weird swords? You stupid fool, I would have thought that the people from below
would at least recognize a katana. Before he could continue. A woman suddenly appeared. 10th sister I presumed. She looked the most normal of them
all and he could not detect the rage that covered 1st Brother or the madness in 3rd Father. She made her way across to him and held out a beautiful and
ornate bow and a quiver of arrows. Shoot, the target is that. I looked at the target - a wooden bird on a tree. At the neighboring mountain. Are you mad,
woman. I screamed at her. Shouldn't we start with something simple - I said trying to control myself. The most important thing that you need to remember
is how to channel your anger. You can scream or use that anger to fuel your power. If you don't hit the target by sundown, you will leave this place. I took
a deep breath. I grabbed the bow and slung the quiver through my arm on my shoulder. I tested the unfamiliar weapon a few times by drawing the string
a few times and placing the arrow on it multiple times. 10th Sister gave me many tips on how to handle the bow and draw the bow. She finally decided I
was ready - I drew back the string, carefully placed the arrow on it. Took aim with one eye, then opened both eyes to retain peripheral vision. And shot
the arrow.... it was pathetic. The arrow fell several feet short and veered several feet sideways. She chuckled darkly. Channel your anger, she said again.
I took another deep breath and aimed, fired and missed. I tried multiple times and failed. Too much too the right, too much to the left, not to mention it
always fell short. I spent hour after hour repeating this exercise. The sun had nearly gone down...... I roared madly. As if challenging me, a wolf
somewhere howled even loader. I took out another arrow and aimed for the bird. I did not think, did not calculate. No, my instincts took over, and with a
ROAR I released another arrow. I do not know if it was my imagination but the tip of arrow glowed red. It completely shattered the wooden bird. I let out a
final triumphant roar. 10th sister emotionlessly as fired a arrow right into my leg. I screamed in pain. I did not ask you to shatter the bird, she said. next
time I want the arrow to only pierce the eye, only the eye. But it is enough for now. With that, she turned around and left the bridge, leaving me to ponder just
what I had gotten myself into.