Cole tightened his grip on his father's sword in his hand. "I have to do this." Cole murmured, his voice was cold, and his eyes were narrow. Cole looked around for any remaining objects or tools relating to Leonard's life as a warrior. As he entered Leonard's old room, he searched for any sort of book or tools that might help him learn how to fight. The scent of aged leather and iron filled the room.

Each item Cole touched reminded him of his father and how Cole was too weak to do anything. If only he were stronger, more capable, maybe then he could have done something. After a while of searching, he discovered a book titled "The Way of The Sword." He studied it for hours on end, attempting to replicate every attack, stance, and technique he saw. The sky grew even darker, and he figured he should find a place to set up camp.

After a bit of searching, he found a nice spot and rested there. As he lay down, he thought to himself. Was he truly getting stronger, or was he just descending deeper into desperation?

After closing his eyes, Cole fell asleep quickly. For the first time in days, he had a proper rest. As the hours passed, the sun began to shine, and soon enough, he was awake. Cole already had some minor knowledge and experience; however, it wasn't enough.

Cole readied his father's blade, and the things he learned from the book all came back to him. Each swing of his father's sword brought him back to the day in which Leonard was killed. "I can't let you down," Cole whispered. With every swing and thrust of his father's blade, he was one inch closer to the vengeance he so desperately craved. Yet a small part of him wondered what his father would think if he saw him doing this?

Soon enough, his arms grew heavy from the nonstop practice, and soon he could barely lift his sword. He knew that if he didn't stop, then he wouldn't be able to train later. Cole let go of his blade and sat down. His breath was heavy, and sweat was pouring down his face. Cole's stomach began to growl, and he realized that he needed to eat soon.

He grabbed his sword and ventured into the forest after making a small campfire. Cole also made sure to stay away from anything resembling a purple berry. Last time he ate those, it didn't end very well. The first thing he saw as he wandered the forest was a small deer. He made sure to be quiet as he snuck up on the deer.

As he walked towards the deer, Cole raised his sword and swung at the deer. Unfortunately, it noticed him and began to run far away from him. "Damn it!" Cole yelled out as he chased the deer. He didn't want to lose track of it as that could very well mean he doesn't get to eat. Eventually, the deer outran him, and he lost track of it. Frustrated, Cole sighed before looking around again. He sheathed his sword before searching for something else.

The trees rustled as the wind blew through the forest. Just then, Cole heard something, the sound of something move through the leaves followed by the snapping of a twig. He swiftly turned his head towards the noise and grabbed the handle of his sword. After following the sound for a short while, he let go of the handle.

Right as he let go of his blade, he noticed a small rodent in the bush. It was turned away from him and was unaware of the young boy's presence.

"Got you," he murmured as he quickly grabbed the squirrel. Cole then proceeded to snap the squirrel's neck, killing it swiftly and effectively. Afterward, he made his way back to the camp before beginning to prepare the squirrel. After preparation was done, Cole threaded the squirrel onto a long skewer and placed it on the campfire.

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"Please don't poison me this time," Cole said as the squirrel's flesh began to cook. Cole began to sweat as the heat from the flames melted the nearby snow. The squirrel had a rich and almost sweet scent to it. Soon enough, the meat was fully cooked and ready to eat.

As he bit down onto the squirrel, the mild, savory flavor of the meat melted in his mouth.

Cole let out a sigh of relief. There wasn't a lot of meat so he was done relatively quickly. This only meant he would be back to training in no time. Cole sat up right after grabbing his sword.

Once again, Cole thought back to what was shown in the book. He readied his blade and slashed his sword at a nearby tree. He repeated the same motion until it almost perfectly matched the book. By the time he had gotten that down, it would only be a matter of time before he could learn the other techniques.

Though there was one thing Cole still had to do. He needed to tell Edward and Adelaide. He sheathed his blade, grabbed his book, and began to rush to the village. After a relatively short time of running, he was back in the village. It was just as lively yet quaint as ever. It reminded him of his old home, how the children were always outside playing, how the merchants were always looking for new customers. His village was such an ordinary place. They weren't necessarily wealthy either. It made no sense to raid them.

Cole walked over to Edward's home and knocked on the door. Within a handful of seconds, Edward had opened the door. "You're back, Cole! I thought you left us for good!" Edward smiled as he let Cole in.

"I'm sorry, but I came to tell you that I am leaving. I won't be returning for quite some time. I still have to do something," Cole said to the man, his voice was different than usual. It carried an almost heavy tone to it.

"Cole, tell me what you are trying to do." Edward questioned him, suspicious of Cole's intentions.

"I am going to kill the murderer of my family. Do not try to stop me," Cole said to the old man.

"Cole, revenge will do no good. Do you genuinely think your family would want this?" Edward tried to calm the young boy down; he was worried for Cole.

"I said do not try to stop me. I don't want you getting in my way." The young boy walked out of the house after grabbing the book Edward gave him off the table.

"What do you plan on doing once you get your revenge.!? Do you really think that will fix everything!?" Edward shouted, his voice filled with anguish as he watched Cole throw away his life. Cole however, said nothing and only continued to walk away.

"Wait, Cole! Please don't do this!" Edward cried out to the young boy; however, he was met with the door slammed in his face mid-sentence. "Please!"

As Cole left the home, his mind went back to what Edward said. What would his family think? Would they want this? He couldn't see his father or mother wanting this, yet he kept convincing himself that it was for the better, that it would make everything better. Nothing Edward told him was listened to. After all, what did he know? He couldn't possibly understand.

He didn't know what it was like to watch a loved one be murdered right in front of his eyes, did he? "God says that no man has the right to kill another." Those were the exact words his father told him. Cole understood that meaningless murder was wrong; however, if it was to avenge the death of a loved one, then it was justified. It was the right thing to do. That's what he told himself day after day, night after night.

Soon enough, he was back at his camp. He was ready to practice once again. First, he started with the stances. Cole positioned his feet shoulder-width apart, his knees slightly bent, and both hands on his sword. At first, it felt somewhat awkward, but after a while, Cole got used to it.

Once he finished that, he learned how to parry, how to counter, and how to go in for the kill. Originally, Cole’s movements were clumsy, his strikes hesitant. He often would think back to what his father told him. However, as the days turned to months the hesitation faded. Each parry became smoother, each counter became quicker, and each strike became deadlier.

Cole envisioned someone rushing towards him, their blades making contact. Cole moved the strong point of his sword to the tip of the enemy's blade, pushing it away. This left the opponent unprotected, letting Cole go in for the kill.

Every day was practice, eat, practice, eat, practice, eat, for just over two whole years. Those two years were some of the longest, most stressful times of his life. For every step back he took, Cole took two more forward. Every injury, mistake, failure was just another step in the right direction to becoming a true warrior.