The next few days were a nightmare for me. “Teacher” as he kept telling me to call him, he refused to tell me his real name. I assumed he wanted to be called that so I couldn’t find him later in life and exact retribution for his training methods. So, yeah… a nightmare.

I was bruised all over by the damn switch he used to correct my form. When I really screwed up or didn’t attack him with the ‘intent to kill’ – his words – then I earned a searing burn. I had quickly learned he had Pyron as his power base.

I tried to strike up a conversation with him the first night about his calling but he told me to mind my own business. The rest of his words compared it to asking a man how often he self gratifies himself. He could have just told me my question was rude but it had become abundantly clear in the following days since I met…Teacher, that he didn’t give a shit about social niceties.

At the moment, I was plodding behind him and his horse. The man never once offered to swap places to speed up our journey. Not that he bothered to inform me where we were even going. Other than him berating me for my shitty swordsmanship or calling me an idiot that would probably die in a few months, the man was taciturn. Although, I did watch him constantly scanning the trees as we traveled.

Occasionally we would stop. I made the mistake of asking why one time and he glared at me so vehemently that I nearly pissed myself. After we stopped to train that night, I got an extra helping of switch and burns. I remembered to stay quiet after that.

At least my leg had mostly healed. The fever and sickness had vanished when I passed through the gate so I chalked it up to part of the test of character needed to survive. Then again, Teacher survived so maybe a person’s character wasn’t the driving force behind who got to be Chosen.

I hadn’t yet figured out what my calling was. Teacher only tested me for Pyron and said it was a waste of his time to train me. I was beginning to suspect he was either a sadist or a bully because he didn’t stop ‘training’ me after his little rant. I was expected to be quiet and listen to orders.

The abuse was disheartening and I was ready to leave after the first day and find someone more appropriate to train me but he handed me a folded sheet of paper with the imperial seal on it. The seal looked legitimate, my Father had traded a few times with imperial servants and I had seen the same seal then.

The letter stated that the holder of this document could enlist any and all Chosen as they saw fit. Failure to comply would brand the Chosen as a traitor to the crown. I was essentially drafted into some organization that I had no idea existed and was given no information on. I don’t know why I assumed Chosen just ran about the countryside righting wrongs without a care in the world.

So lost in my little world, I almost ran into the back of the Teacher’s horse as it came to a stop.

The horse kicked at the dirt nervously and I quickly backed away so as not to be kicked. I had been kicked in the arm as a child when a horse was spooked. Spending six weeks with a cast on was not a pleasant experience.

Teacher was staring ahead and to the left of the trail. I tried to see what he was looking at but all I saw were a few fallen logs, rotting alongside the road and a large boulder father off into the forest.

“I know you’re there!” Teacher yelled, hopping off his horse and tying the reins to a nearby tree. “You might as well get out here and get this over with.”

I was confused as to what he was talking about until a group of three men, wearing ragged clothing and carrying what looked like farming implements came out of hiding. The men approached warily, with ‘weapons’ at the ready. The most dangerous-looking weapon they sported was a crudely crafted rock spear. The other two sported a ceramic kitchen knife that had more chips in it than it did a blade and the last man had an old wooden pitchfork.

“Give us all your belongings and there won’t be any trouble,” the gap-toothed man with the spear said.

Teacher put up his hands, “you won’t get any trouble from me, but this boy here, he's the one you want to worry about. He’s been going on and on that he has a sword and knows how to use it. Says he's been looking for someone to test it on.”

My eyes widened in surprise and horrified understanding.

“That so, you step off to the side,” the man ordered Teacher and he happily complied, the bastard. I saw his little smile. “So, Boy, you think you’re fancy shit with a blade eh. How bout ol’ Ruck here poke a few holes in you to help you learn your place?” The man smiled cruelly as the other two chuckled.

I almost missed the man tense for a lunge. I managed to step back enough for his spear to only graze my armor.

“My teacher is mistaken. Stop! Don’t make me kill you,” I spoke, not wanting to kill the man for some idiotic thing my teacher shoved me into.

“The only mistake here, boy, is that you got more lip than skill.” He sneered as he tried slashing at me again but I backpedaled.

My eyes went to Teacher who just looked smug and bored as he stood there, uncaring if I was about to be killed by some wannabe bandit. It pissed me off. As the man reared back, telegraphing his attack for all to see, I drew my sword. His spear struck for my neck, the man smiling the entire time. Time seemed to slow as I shifted my weight slightly to avoid the tip of the spear. Before the man could pull it back when he realized his attack would miss, I grabbed the shaft of his weapon with one hand and whipped my sword across his neck in one quick movement. The strike was ingrained with years of practice.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

I heard two gasps of shock from the two watching Teacher, but my opponent simply dropped to his knees, clutching his throat as it sprayed blood everywhere. The ease of cutting through someone's neck surprised me and I failed to block the spray of blood as it coated my face and some even got into my mouth.

I stumbled backward, spitting out the metallic-tasting fluid. By the time I wiped it out of my eyes, the other two men were dead on the ground with neat circular burn holes in their heads.

Teacher looked at me and commented. “You look like shit… but at least you finally learned something. If you hesitate to kill again, I am going to double down on your training. Weakness in our line of work will get you killed quickly. And figure out what your damn calling is. You could have ended the fight in a moment if it was available to you.”

I could only stare incredulously at the infuriating man. He did this all so I would be forced to take a life, as some form of training tool. It was fucked up. He was fucked up.

I looked down at the accusing eyes of the dead man and shuddered. A moment ago that man had been perfectly fine with killing me to prove a point. If it hadn’t been for the last few days and Teacher’s constant training, I wasn’t sure if I would have been able to kill the man. Wound him sure but I would have probably taken wounds myself in that case. My father's words bubbled to the surface of my mind, “only a fool relies on a blade to deal with every problem.”

Despite that, It felt wrong to have to kill. Teacher could have simply scared them off or perhaps I could have convinced them to leave if he hadn’t instigated the little fight.

What was I thinking, that wouldn’t be any better. Then they might just rob someone that couldn’t defend themselves. I looked up to ask Teacher what to do with the bodies, he was slicing off the ears of the two he killed. “Wha- what are you doing?”

“There are bounties for bandits. We turn in the left ear of each kill for ten plates. It ain't much but it's better than nothing.”

Thirty plates, that’s all these three men’s lives were worth to Teacher. I had to wonder what had turned the man so jaded.

“Are you sure these were bandits? They look more like half-starved farmers,” I asked, trying to keep the revulsion from his act out of my tone.

Teacher snorted. “What do you think a bandit is, Boy, hmm? Let me guess, some sort of charismatic figure that robs from the rich and gives to the poor? You read too many stories, Kid. Bandits are people who couldn’t make it doing things the right way so they turned to hurting and killing people instead because it was easier for them. I’ll let you in on a valuable life lesson. If someone ever pulls a weapon on you, kill them before they kill you. It’s as simple as that. Now, get that ear off, so we can get a move on. We have a long road ahead and I got jobs to complete.”

The feel of the man’s still warm ear in my hand as I sliced it away made me retch. I managed to finish the gruesome task before I emptied my lunch on the side of the road. Then I tried to wipe the vomit away, only managing to smear the blood that was still coating my hand across my face again.

By this point my adrenaline was fading and with it came the shaking. I rushed over to the edge of the forest and grabbed a handful of leaves and vigorously scrubbed the blood from my hands and face. Teacher didn’t comment on my actions, he only mounted his horse and urged it into a slow trot. He didn’t even bother moving the bodies from the road.

I quickly hurried after the rapidly fading horse after removing as much blood from my sword as I was able to. The blade still had the nearly black congealed blood of the monsters in the crevices. I hadn’t been able to clean it properly since I left the forsaken city. At least I had been able to take apart my wooden sheath and clean that out. It had turned into almost glue by the time I had gotten to it. If it had sat any longer I might not have been able to draw my sword from it at all.

Keeping my mind occupied on my failure to clean the weapon and my training kept it off of the face of the man I had just killed. It was only partially successful.

By the time I caught up with Teacher and his horse, I was nearly out of breath. The man hadn’t slowed or stopped. He didn’t even bother to turn around and see if I was there. I assumed he heard me huffing and puffing as I jogged to keep pace behind him but he didn’t seem to much care about my condition.

He kept this pace for a few hours before we left the forest and entered cultivated fields and small farms. The change was so abrupt that it surprised me. I waved politely at a few farmers but when they went to wave back and their eyes landed on me their eyes grew as big as plates and they rushed away.

It took me a few failed attempts before I realized, I was still covered in blood from the fight. I had wiped it off of my face and hands but my leather vest and clothing were soaked. I stopped waving after that, feeling shame as more and more people hid away as we passed. Teacher didn’t seem to care.

The road quickly went from dirt trail to cobblestone as we stopped near a guard post.

The two guards eyed me suspiciously while the third spoke with Teacher. “Trouble?”

“No, just some bandits. Is the magistrate in?”

The guard scratched his beard in thought. “Should be, but the lad is gonna have to clean up. We can’t have him entering the town covered in blood. He’ll scare everyone.”

Teacher shrugged. “I give you permission to toss him in a trough. Hurry up though.”

The guard laughed at this as the other two grabbed me and picked me up. “I can wash myself!” I argued as I tried to struggle out of the beefy men’s arms. My complaints fell on deaf ears as they chuckled before tossing me into an enormous wooden trough nearby.

I spluttered as I came up for air, only to be hit in the face by a rag. “Better scrub good, or we will just toss you right back in.”

My face was beet red as I tied to ignore the laughter from passing people. I could hear the one guard and Teacher talking but I couldn’t hear what they were talking about. I ignored it as I did my best to scrub the blood out of my clothes and armor. I guess my hair had blood in it too as I saw red-tinted water drip off me as I rinsed. I needed to shave again. Two weeks of travel and another week of trying to survive both monsters and my Teacher hadn’t given me time to keep up the practice. I still had the curved shaving stone in my bag somewhere. It didn’t weigh much so I had kept it with me.

Before leaving the impromptu bath, I looked at the guard. “That good enough?” I growled.

He pretended to ponder for an inordinate amount of time before he replied. “Yeah, I guess that’ll do. You best not come around here looking like that again. I’ll just chase you off and make you sleep in the woods like a feral beast,” he laughed as I climbed out of the tepid water. I might be clean of blood, but now I smelled like a wet horse. I had to wonder if everyone the Teacher knew was an asshole like him. My guess was yes.