Six years had passed, since Ollowyn had recovered from the poison attack. Ever since then a lot had changed. The Sword Fighting School of Ritto Iordai was now bigger than ever and already resembled a small fortress rather than a fighting school. The walls were raised to four meters of height and a big watchtower already throned in one of the four corners. Three more were currently a work in process. Ollowyn yawned and rose from his sleeping spot on the flat roof of the tower.
He loved to sleep in high up places, especially since the warm summer nights made it possible to spend the night below the stars. It also helped against his newly developed habit of oversleeping. When he had been a member of a wolf pack, rising after the first sunlight had been very uncommon. Too much hunting to do. Now he pretty much slept through half the day unless someone woke him up. The boy stretched, still half asleep and stared towards the mountains. Pass Dunéin. Sadness overcame him for a brief moment.
Thasun had never returned and it weighed heavily on Ollowyn. He missed his master. His pack leader. Though, after all these years he had no illusions regarding Thasuns fate. He was likely dead. However that may be, he would still try to find out what happened to him and avenge his death. A man like Thasun Torreí did not die peacefully just like that. Sighing Ollowyn climbed off the roof and hopped on the Platform that wrapped around the top of the watchtower. From there he eyed the Valley of Ending.
A lot had changed. The old, burned down house of Alissa's father had been completely torn down and had been replaced by a new, much bigger and much more impressive house. Karthan Cr’Axsun, the former fourth master of the Iordai clan, now lived there with her. They had two young children. He had survived his burns and thanks to the Nepheniel was hardly scarred. Only small traces remained and showed off his devotion to his beloved.
That she had not even been inside, made it all the more romantic to her. As soon as he had recovered she asked him to marry her. The great master immediately allowed him to do so and leave. In his words “he did not need anyone suicidal” and that “it is good that we found someone that looks after this idiot.”
The village had grown by quite a few houses as well, though the biggest change happened outside of the peaceful village. A large part of the woods had been cut down to create space. Now there stood a few dozen houses. Refugees, that Lord Enguráll had sent, settled there to avoid conflicts with the village. Ollowyn himself had helped to knock down trees and build houses, whenever he found the time to do so.
The great master had even ordered him to do so, though Ollowyn would have spent any free minute helping anyway. His pack was growing everyday. The stories that the refugees told him there helped to form an universal education as he learned from all sorts of different jobs, landscapes and customs. It especially improved his language, speaking while he got taught how to read and write.
His presence had also alleviated the cultural pressure between the two villages and he connected them to exchange stories and trade. The biggest connector had been Karthan though, as he helped out with his woodworking skill to build houses and teach them how to craft spears, bows and arrows from scratch.
Mainly he had done so because that was the newly formed contract with Zenshin: Take in refugees, help them build and grow. Then there was the tribute they had to deliver to the mountain fortress Than Dúin and form a standing army of refugees, that Zenshin could use to defend their country. An agreement that most of the desperate people took without a second though. At least they could have their families living in security, while the men were out there fighting for their new found home country.
Ollowyn dressed himself in the typical Iordai fashion. A white practice robe with a bamboo sword. Then he descended the tower. He hoped that the refugee army would return soon. It had almost been two years and their return was now imminent. Hopefully there were no unrests in the east as they attempted to reclaim Sandrei and rebuilt the city. It was already bad that Thasun had vanished, but if all those men also died that would be a real devastating blow to the Valley of Ending.
After the battle Sandrei had been found plundered, looted and empty. That had not helped to ease concerns though. Apparently the Kórren Lahn had executed a cruel example upon the inhabitants of Sandrei. Hundreds of citizens had been slaughtered, their arms and hands chopped off, and were piled on top of each other to resemble the outline of a tree.
Apparently they had even used fingers and toes as well as children's limbs to resemble twigs. Eyes, ears and noses had been skillfully formed to resemble leaves and stitched to the tree. A tree that had looked so stunningly real that it shook everyone that saw it to their cores. One of the scouts had attempted to draw the tree in order to report it to his liege, though he had been unable to catch the incredible details...
Ollowyn was now thirteen years old. He had grown up to a meter and seventy centimeters and was towering over most children that were of his age. His silver white hair had grown longer and reached all the way to the center of his back. Slim and muscular he looked a lot older than he actually was. On his white cloth robes he had pinned a wooden signia with the number “2”. Only a single opponent stood between himself and being the first rank of the Iordai school, that had now approximately sixty members.
Marun Kíreii was this man. The first master of the Iordai Sword Fighting School. In the past six years Ollowyn had grown a lot. Today would be his fourth challenge to the first master of the Iordai clan. If he wins, he would be allowed access to the sanctum, where he had to face the great master himself in a trial to gain the rank of a master.
As he was about to enter the training hall, three students were blocking him access. Their bamboo swords resting on their shoulders, they stared at him.
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“Mephian. Grish.” Ollowyn sighed and raised his own sword. “Wardun. Where is Irto? Is he not joining you today?”
A rather corpulent boy shrugged. “He is waiting inside. He thought it would be disrespectful to attack you together.”
Mephian grinned. “As if it would be easy to win.” Then he drew a smaller bamboo sword, while Wardun raised a shield and Grish added a bamboo club to his weapons. “Ready?”
Ollowyn nodded. “Ready.”
Just seconds later the three boys lay on the ground. Disarmed. Mephian sighed. He felt his own improvements every single day, yet Ollowyn was starting to get further and further ahead. What could he even do?
As soon as the silver haired boy stepped inside he was challenged again. This time by Irto. The fight lasted for about a minute, before Ollowyn was able to overcome him once more. Ollowyn bowed and then proceeded towards Zartha. The second master with the current rank “3” was raising an eyebrow and let him pass. In his opinion the boy should have achieved the rank of a master months ago. He trained on his own, found his own style and was very good at teaching other students what he knew. His presence was respected and honored by them.
To wait any longer would just slow down his growth. “Go. Marun is waiting.”
Ollowyn nodded and stepped towards the middle of the hall. The other students had taken a seat alongside the wall already and waited patiently for the fight to take place. One of their own could rise to the rank of a master for the first time. Someone that was younger than most of them. The circumstances had already raised morale and motivation was at an all time high. Now every single student had a clear goal to reach no matter how hard they had to train.
Marun rose as Ollowyn approached him. “Ready?” He held the greeting short. His long, blonde hair was bound to a pigtail, while he was wearing the typical white training cloth of the Iordai school. Only a small red insignia told of his master rank. His eyes gazed at Ollowyn. He was very focused, unlike his usual sleepy self.
Ollowyn bowed. “I, Ollowyn Torreí, challenge the first master of the Iordai Sword Fighting School, Marun Kíreii, to a fight for graduation.” His new surname, Torreí, that he inherited from his former master, was worn by Ollowyn with pride.
“Accepted.” With this word the master raised his weapon and strode calmly towards Ollowyn.
The silver haired boy did not wait for his attack though. He jumped forward himself and forced the bamboo sword with a stabbing motion towards the torso of Marun. The first master immediately tried to defend with a upward blocking motion.
However, the attack never came. Ollowyn had stopped his attack mid-motion, while crossing more distance. As soon as the defending motion of Marun had passed its intended target, Ollowyn stabbed at him again. The first master already saved himself with a quick sidestep. What speed!
Now Ollowyn had to defend himself. The attack was coming from above and impacted hard. Even though the two swords were entirely made of bamboo, the powerful blow made his fingers go numb for a moment. But he persisted and used his solid position to kick at Maruns pivoting leg.
Marun retreated, evaded the kick, only to strike again. Multiple attacks were raining down on Ollowyn. Upper left side, lower right side, a blow to the torso, two stabs at his thighs. The first master used all the opportunities that he could get and laid it out on Ollowyn. The boy, however, evaded, blocked and countered to create room for himself to recover from the harsh strikes.
Quickly it was clear to the other students that the two sword fighters were of equal strength. Every attack found itself blocked or evaded, every counter was read with easy. Feints were only motioned slightly and neither of the two fell for one.
For Ollowyn this was frustrating, since nothin he tried seemed to work. Was there still such a huge gap? Again he tried for a desperate attack combination. A attack from below, only stopped just short of impacting Maruns sword, he used the defensive motion to get behind his opponent and stab at him multiple times. The master evaded by jumping forward and turning to face Ollowyn again.
“Tch.” Ollowyn jumped back himself to gain some distance. He finally noticed what had been wrong! He was easily looked through! The first master always knew what he was thinking and could guess his attack motions, only to counter them afterwards or mid motion. Ollowyn thought back to the times when he was still traveling with Thasun. He was thinking of an attack that his pack leader used to practice. An attack that was left unfinished.
Ollowyn closed his eyes for a moment to concentrate. He kept the sound of his opponent in mind, just in case the first master would lash out at his again. Quickly he remembered the familiar motion Thasun had practiced. Ollowyn hesitated. The first time he had used a style of the Iordai school, he had injured himself. Would his body now be able to withstand it?
Ollowyn raised the sword in front of his body and concentrated on his breathing. His concentration rose further and his legs started to feel a bit numb. A tingling feeling drew upwards into his whole body. Yes. This felt good. Maybe it would really work like this?
In the meanwhile Marun was staring at the kid. What was he doing? He had just closed his eyes without a warning. What was he planning? It couldn’t be… right? Was it possible?
And really, the boy moved with lightning speed. Three fast steps and he stood in front of Marun, his weapon raised for a final attack. As Ollowyn brought his blade down, Marun realised: he would be too slow. Immediately he surrendered to his instincts and just acted on a instincts alone.
“Korduí.” He sidestepped the attack and brought his body right next to Ollowyn. With a quick attack he tried to hit the boy on the side of his head.
Ollowyn reacted perfectly to his evasion though. His blade struck down, hit the first master hard against his upper body, sending him stumbling backwards. However, the last attack that Marun mustered against the kid hit Ollowyn hard in his face. A draw.
Ollowyn fell down backwards to take some force out of the strike, while the students began to talk about and discussed the fight. He sighed. It had not been enough. His left leg hurt a bit, though by far not as much as the first time he had attempted to use a Iordai Style. With a bit of practice he would master this idea of Thasun’s. How he would call the attack however… he did not know.
Marun suddenly stood above him. A smile rested on his face. “Well done, kid.” He handed Ollowyn the wooden badge. Rank One. Then he took the boys second rank badge and helped him up. “You can go to the great master now. You have earned it.”
The volume inside of the training hall rose to a thunderstorm of cheers and applause. Dozens of students ran past the first master and congratulated Ollowyn loudly. Some hit him hard on the back, other shook his hand or hugged him. This day dozens of students decided to devote their entire life to the sword. To reach the same heights as Ollowyn had.
While Ollowyn appreciated their feelings and loved most of them like brothers, he was glad to escape the loud attention and leave the training hall. Slowly he made his way towards the sanctum. All the training had paid off. A tear of relief rolled down his cheek. He finally made it here. A little nervous of entering the room in which the great master trained, he hesitated for a moment.
For a second he seriously considered to just turn around again, to do it later. Then he grabbed the slide door and pushed it open with a sigh. Immediately his anxiety was gone.