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The End is Death
Volume 1 Part 2

Volume 1 Part 2

The interior wall cast a long and cold shadow over the castle garden, almost obscuring the sun completely. Light fluttered between the leaves of the sole giant dark tree that flexed in the breeze. Tormon sat by the pond at the foot of the tree, sharpening his sword with care. Curiously two wasters, training swords made of wood, lay at rest beside him.

"Ser Tormon," Seraphina called out.

The heavy door rattled closed behind her, secluding the garden between the walls. Tormon continued to run a wet stone down his blade, starting slowly but hastening towards the tip.

"My lord father commanded me to meet you here but for what purpose he did not disclose."

Tormon suddenly stopped, the wet stone frozen half way down his blade. A moment of calm passed before he took a deep breathe and leapt to his feet, sheathing his sword.

"My lady," he exhaled grabbing the wasters and turning around.

His heavy grey cloak obscured his figure but Sera could see his tan gambeson decorated with the sigil of her family. The blue and white flower of the eastern highlands.

He suddenly threw one of the training swords at Sera which she caught haphazardly with both hands. A smile spread across her bright, warm face.

Tormon continued with a smirk. "Today is the day you start your training."

"My father relented?"

Tormon nods in conformation to which Sera jumped gleefully on the spot, unable to contain her excitedness.

"How did you convince him?" she asked still clutching the waster to her chest.

"I told you it was a matter of patience and perseverance my lady." he answered approaching her. "I must admit though I wasn't sure your father would ever relent."

"He could only hide behind the same few excuses for so long."

"Well anyway, I'm glad you came appropriately dressed," Tormon flicked his training sword inches within Sera's chest.

"I always dress for battle!" she proudly answered slapping the tight padded, leather armour that covered her gambeson.

Tormon lowered the waster inspecting her more closely.

"Still missing a few pieces but.." he muttered. "Hmm, should be good enough for today."

He took a step back from her, raising his training sword with both hands to be level with his eyes, the tip directed at Sera.

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"Bring yourself to guard," he commanded. "When ready I will strike, you are to block."

"Your starting me with the basics?" she scoffed. "I've spent the last two summers watching and studying the men in the field."

"Watching someone else train and training yourself are two different things my lady."

Sera rolled her eyes. Clasping her sword with an agitated grip, she held refined wood to her side, pointed upward in line with her body. She stuck her left foot forward and prepared for the strike. Tormon breathed sharply then swung his sword up and around his head, cleaving it with force.

Sera stumbled back, Tormon's waster narrowly missing her ribs. Her sword clashed with his as she tried to deflect it, barely keeping her footing as he nearly sent her flying.

"Again."

Before Sera could recover Tormon swung his sword back again nearly knocking her down.

"Again!"

He moved with such speed that Sera's eyes could barely keep up. In the blink of a moment he had brought his sword close to his chest before lunging it straight towards her. Stumbling, she tried to deflect but his brute strength pierced through her guard and pushed her down onto her back. As she recovered her breathe Tormon relaxed and held his hand out to her.

"As I said, two different things."

She took his hand and he hoisted her up onto her feet in a single motion.

"Again." she muttered.

Tormon nodded and returned to the pose he held before for the first strike. Sera readied herself again. Just as before Tormon swung the sword over and around his head before cleaving it towards her. This time Sera jumped back until the strike had passed and then lunged forwards with a mighty cry.

Her nose was numb suddenly, cold and stinging. Sera felt a sense of weightlessness as time seemed to slow. She watched the sky come in to view as her hair glided around her face. Her leg had been swept out from beneath her. The cold on her face coming from his fist, his ring specifically. Thud

Sera was planted firmly on her back. Groaning loudly she tried to roll over, stuttering gibberish as she attempted to regain her senses.

"What the.." she coughed as she flopped onto her stomach. "F...fuck was that?"

"If this where real that was you being stupid and now dead." Tormon answered casually.

He hooked his arms under her and hoisted her back to her feet before turning her around and inspecting her face.

With both hands on her shoulders he looked her in her dazed eyes, "Look at me, I need you to snort out of both nostrils."

"I-it hurts." she cried touching her nose.

"Hold still." he said softly.

He gently pressed down on her left nostril and ordered her to blow. Through tears and pain, blood and snot shot out onto her boot, clearing the airway. He then carefully pressed down on the other and again ordered her to blow.

Once her nose was clear he brought her over to the pond and rinsed her face.

"That fucking hurt." she groaned.

"Real combat will hurt a lot more my lady." he wet his hands before running them through his short black hair. "I'd wager you to be very sore by days end."

Sera groaned and walked away. Easily, she found where she landed on the grass. Reaching down, she picked up the training sword and turned to face Tormon again.

"Could I be as good a fighter as you one day?" she asked with blood trickling down her lip.

Tormon smiled as he flung his waster onto his shoulder and walked over to her.

Placing his arm on her should he answered, "With enough patience and perseverance you will one day far surpass me."

A sly smile lit up her face.

"Then we go again!"