Tweets and caws serenaded a courtyard of concrete flooring and walls with a circular shape. The walls themselves were decorated with weapons of all shapes and sizes, varying degrees of sharpness, weighting anything from a plank of wood to a hefty battle axe. On the fine spring day, Luke and Matthew finally got to spend a day with their father, but it wasn’t a day of fun, instead it was a day of training. Today was Luke’s first day of sparring practice.

“Due to your little problem, Luke, I’m only asking you to use this wooden sword.” The father handed his son a sword of wood.

Its edge round and its weight lighter than air, Luke had no problem holding upright and even swinging it.

“Now Luke, I want you to swing your sword at me with all of the force you can muster.” The man watched his son glance his way, clearly bewildered by his father’s request. “Do not fear for my safety, just focus on your attack.”

With an over-head slice, Luke’s attack was caught by his father’s cusping hands.

“Weak. Weaker than I expected. Again!”

Luke hesitated a bit, but upon seeing his father’s anger begin to rise, he swiftly found the nerve to strike once more.

“Again!” The man commanded, slightly louder and harsher.

Luke forced his arms to push the wooden sword down harder, believing he was getting into the swing of things.

“Again!” The father was losing his cool now, his voice beginning to echo in the empty arena.

With all the force his eight-year-old muscles would allow for, Luke send the sword down, closing his eyes as he did so. When he opened his eyes, he could see his father was grasping the sword; before he could react any further, the man threw the sword to the side, along with Luke who was still gripping it mindlessly.

With hard thud, Luke hit the concrete floor, bruising his shoulder and bringing him to tears. Letting go of the sword and gripping his shoulder, he couldn’t feel any blood but there was still a harsh stinging and ugly red glow.

‘Luke, stop crying this instance!”

Tearing his attention from his bruise, Luke could see his father standing over him. Through his tears, the boy could see his father’s face still stern.

“Crying won’t solve anything. When people see you cry, they’ll see you as weak, they’ll hurt you more, make you want to cry more. Don’t cry when you fail, think about what you did wrong and how you can do better.”

Trying to wipe the endless flow of water off his face, Luke could feel a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay Luke, you’re gonna take a break now and I’ll help you train next.” Matthew helped his brother to his feet, walking him over to a bench nearby. “Don’t let dad get you down. He just wants you to be tough; one day you’ll understand.”

As he dried the tears on his face, the younger sibling watched his brother and father spar, the son protecting himself with his shield, the resulting blows creating cracks under him. Using just his fist, their father was able to make the ground tremble, but Matthew remained firm in his defensive stance. When he felt confident enough to move again, Matthew hopped forward, sending his shield into his father’s torso, causing the man stagger back.

Stolen novel; please report.

“See boy, this is a real warrior! Unfettered by earthshattering force and able to answer back with an even more powerful attack.” Collecting himself, the man walked toward the bench. “That will be all for me. Matthew, teach your brother the correct stance to draw out mana, and if nothing else, build him up so he can give the illusion of being able to strike with mana.”

As the man approached his younger son, his expression made Luke know terror. Luke could see his stern expression was one of pure malice and aggression, his eyes wide open and his face forming a scowl he’d never seen across any human’s various before.

“Listen well, Luke: if I hear you cause any trouble during school -this year or any other- I will be personally training you like this for every day of your life. If you embarrass me, you will be cleaning this arena until you’re eighteen. If you give the princess any trouble, you will be living out in the wild. Do you hear me?”

Luke nodded, his stomach twisted in knots, his body sweating, his mind frozen, his heart vomiting. As he watched the man leave, his relief increased only marginally, a sickness welling up all over his body.

“Don’t listen to him Luke, he’s just trying to make sure you don’t do anything bad.”

Those words snapped Luke out of his stupor, his head turning toward his brother.

“He’s right though, I need to teach you, THE STANCE!”

The younger brother found himself laughing awkwardly at his brother’s emphasis, but genuinely curious at the same time. “What’s the stance?”

“The Stance is a pose used to force mana into your hands. It’s good for when you can’t control your mana, like when it comes out of areas you don’t want it to.”

Standing up, Luke could feel his arm was still hurting, but the pain was far and away more tolerable. Following Matthew to the middle of the arena, the boy let his eyes wander over to the walls and the many weapons on display, from elegant looking swords to might mallets.

“Alright Luke, like this” the older brother was leaning back on his left leg while his right leg forming a perfect diagonal, as if he were about to lunge forward. His hands were spaced as if he were holding onto a ball. “You do it.”

Luke did so, making sure to copy his brother down to every detail. At first, he struggled to figure out which leg he should stand on.

“Use your dominant leg for support.”

After switching several times, Luke finally figured out which leg was his dominant. When he had that down, he twisted his back and clasped his hands.

“Don’t twist your back as much, and you want to leave a good amount of room between your hands to focus your energy.”

After a little more correction, Luke finally got the ok from Matt, the latter forming energy in the space between his palms.

“Try to focus on your mana and your hands. Think about having some kind of energy where that space is. Close your eyes and concentrate real hard if you have to.”

The brother did so, closing his eyes and imagining an energy forming in his hand like his brother had done. He couldn’t feel anything, so concentrated hard, pushing some inside muscle in the chance it could help him. Still, he couldn’t feel anything, and opening his eyes had confirmed as much.

Gritting his teeth and grunting hard, he concentrated with all his strength.

“Uh, Luke, maybe you shouldn’t concentrate that hard. Just relax.”

Opening his eyes and standing up straight, the boy could see he wasn’t getting anywhere.

“I told you I can’t do it. I’m a failure!”

“Luke, it’s going to be alright.” Matthew pulled his brother in for a hug.

“No it’s not. I’ll never be any good!” Luke continued to pout.

“We’ll continue training tomorrow. I’m not going to throw you to the ground or anything, I promise.”

“Thanks Matt.” Luke had released his embrace, calming down gradually as the two made their way back home.

“Luke, if this mana thing doesn’t ever get fixed, promise me you won’t get in a fight.”

The younger brother eyed the older one, shocked to see the grave expression across his face, though he tried to hide his surprise.

“And if you do get in a fight, end it as soon as you can. It might be embarrassing, but it’s better than getting beat up even more.”

“I promise Matt” Luke hung his head down low, just wanting to forget about the entire day.