"Stop looking down at your feet," Aslin ordered the young Lord. "Your opponent's blade is in front of you."
Galliard wore an exasperated grimace and was sweating heavily. This was by far the longest that he had ever trained for in his life. After his older brother won the battle he had assigned the renowned Amazon to Galliard's side. Besides guarding over him and keeping him out of trouble. Her job included teaching him how to do battle against other Blessed beings so that they could avoid another incident like before.
Syrin, although pleased at her husbands' victory, was somewhat disheartened due to the fact that Ashlin would now be around to stay. As far as she was concerned, the Amazonian could be a threat to her position. It was not uncommon for Amazons and their masters to fall in love with how much time they spent together. Lady Wrath would be damned to let such a thing transpire beneath her watch.
Ashlin, for her part, knew of her Lady's distrust for her and meant to do everything in her power to prove her wrong. For she served Lady Wrath just as much as she did her new Lord, soulbound as they were.
"That is enough for today," Ashlin called out to the initiate mask that was selected as the young Prince's sparring opponent, she backed down at Lady Ashlin's command.
"Good work," She praised the child, "Be here at the same time tomorrow."
The young girl nodded her head at the Amazon in agreement, not that she had much of a choice, heading off to rejoin her class. Seeing as she was the most skilled fighter in her age group she was chosen to help Galliard train despite her being four moon cycles his junior. The kids around his age were far more skilled and deadly than he was at this point. To put him up against one of them when he could not even beat an initiate just nine name years old would be pointless and crule.
Galliard sighed in relief before dropping to the ground and laying there in contentment.
Little did he know that his older kin was watching him from the ramparts. Wrath shook his head disappointed in his younger brother's vitality and skill, or rather, his lack thereof.
"Go easy on him, he is just a child." Gabriella admonished softly from his right.
"I was slaughtering entire villages at his age,” Wrath scuffed. “Yet he can hardly stand his ground against a child four moon cycles his junior."
"Maybe he is not meant to be a fighter," She pointed out to him "There are other things that he could do to benefit the clans."
"He is son to the mighty Alfrard and noble Shira, to be anything but a matchless warrior would be disgraceful." Wrath declared with his head held high.
"You are being completely unreasonable," She sighed at him, frustrated, her ice blue eyes hardening in anger. "Not everyone is born with the instinct to kill." She breathed in deeply. "You can't force him to be what he is not, he could be a Blacksmith, an Alchemist or even a Beast Trainer." She listed off hoping he would reconsider.
Gabriella had always been protective over their little brother but after he had been taken she has become unbearable. The princess has not stopped hovering over him and watches him from afar at all times and when she can not do it she has her lover take her place.
"Whoever heard of a Prince of Wrath being a workman, no, I will have him trained to be a Prince that his generation will look at as an example to strive towards."
"Then you will be leading him to his death." Gabriella seethed out, her teeth grinding in rage.
"At least he will die a true Son of Wrath." Her older sibling scoffed as he watched his brother take an uppercut to the throat. "Perhaps, sister, it is not I who is too hard on him, but you who has too little faith in our brother to succeed as a Prince of Wrath."
Gabriella stormed off in a huff, ignoring her brother's eyes on her back, intent on finding a way to change his mind. Taking one last look at the young Lord Wrath before she stepped away.
The High Lord stayed there as his brother's training continued, watching with displeased eyes as his brother failed to crush his opponent again and again. Eventually, he had had enough, the Lord made his way to his chambers ready to indulge himself in the sweetness of his wife. Disappointed to find Gabriella there as well, perhaps if he put a silencing spell on her for the day he could have peace. The Lord let out a long sigh already knowing what was to come.
"We need to talk." Syrin said sternly.
"Really Gabriella?" He huffed to his sister, truly vexed.
"You refuse to listen to me, let us see how much you truly value your wife's opinion." She chided while walking out of the room. She stopped in front of the door, glaring at him over her shoulder. "I won't let you send our little brother to the veil."
"She's being absurd." Wrath declared sighing, looking upwards as if asking for strength from the gods. "I'm only doing what's be.."
"I know my love." Syrin affirmed, cutting him off with a hand on his shoulder.
"You do?" He asked, so bewildered he stopped mid rant.
"But so are you." She spoke to him, her eyes never once breaking contact with his own. "You can't expect him to be something that he is not." She said, trying to reason with him. "He is not an unmatched blade master, he has not the ability for it." Lady Wrath pointed out, getting an annoyed grunt from her husband. "You can still teach him the art of war for protection yet let him choose his own path to follow."
"We can have Ashlin train him every morn and let the boy have the evening to himself to figure out his expertise," Syrin suggested. "He's a smart one, he might be of use to you in another art."
"I am anxious that the time for him to take the throne might occur sooner than later and he won't be able to defend himself let alone our legacy." He said honestly, speaking his fears aloud. "War is among us, only the great divines know if I will survive, I need him to be able to take care of himself."
"You care for your brother, that much is clear." Syrin sighed as she reached up and cupped his face. "But you're letting your pride get in the way, we both know Galliard would be a horrid blade master." She laughed softly, a small smile on her face... "He has a pure heart, he does not love the clashing of blades like the rest of us, to force him into that role could have dire consequences."
"Alright, say I let him choose his own calling." Wrath said. "He is still a member of this clan, for him not to fight alongside us in the war would be dishonour upon me as his lord." He scowled, his fist clenching and his resolve hardening. "He will learn the dance of the blades even if I have to beat it into him."
-----
"What is this about brother?" Galliard questioned nervously.
He was surrounded by the deadliest mask initiates in his age group, each equipped with dulled training blades. They were crouched low in attack position, ready to strike on command. He had a blade in his hand himself but his grip was loose.
"Today you prove you have the will to fight, or you will shatter and be discarded." Wrath announced in a hardened tone.
The initiate that was positioned in front of him charged at him at full speed, blade ready he swung at Galliard, the young Prince ducked but not quick enough resulting in the blade slicing across his cheek, creating a gash. As if that was the signal the kids attacked him from all sides. One after the other, blow after blow. Within a few seconds, he was a bloody mess, his legs buckling even as his natural regeneration attempted to counteract the damage.
Once again Wrath found himself shaking his head in disappointment at his youngest kin, but he would not falter in this.
"Incompetent," He sighed, disappointment dripping from the word. "As you eternally remain."
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He waited only long enough for his brother's wounds to moderately heal. He motioned to the other children and following his command they attacked the young Prince once again. The ground soon soaked in his blood, again and again, it spilt upon the stone staining it crimson. The young Prince let out a cry of battle and swung his weapon wildly in the hopes that he would strike at least one but he had no such luck.
The torture went on for hours on end, Galliard was weak and could barely hold himself up but Wrath heeded not. Galliard was upset that his brother would do such a thing and let it go on for so long. He was seething underneath and he could feel that anger beginning to rise with each strike. It was about to overflow in a wave of passionate fire.
"ENOUGH!" Gallard commanded when he did so a pulse of pure magic exploded out from his hands knocking all the initiates to the ground, shaking the ground and even causing his brother to take a step back. Gallard looked down at his hands in shock unsure of where that just came from.
The sound of hands clapping slowly brought his attention to his brother.
"Finally," He said, "Something you are actually good at."
The anger that was there came back tenfold as he turned to the Lord of a Thousand.
"How could you!" He bellowed, another wave of magic shooting out of him but this time Wrath was prepared and it did not move him. "I am your brother and you let them beat me to a pulp for hours." He was in front of him in a blink of an eye. "You claim to love me but you do not."
"Do not claim that I do not hold love for you." He snorted condescendingly fist clenched so he would not wrap his hands around the younger man's throat for such an insult "Do you truly believe that if you were a child from any other bloodline you would be able to address your Lord as such?" Wrath scoffed looking down at his lesser. "That I would allow you to remain so weak without putting a blade through you for shaming this house?"
Galliard's anger diminished as his brother's words began to sink in. He knew what he said was true, the young Prince would not have been able to get away with even a quarter of the things that he did, was it not for the fact that his Lord brother held some sort of affection for him. He was no longer angry, just disappointed that his older kin could be so heartless towards him even though he had been trying his best to learn the dance of blades. He had been training day in and day out with the most experienced fighters in all the clans to hone his skills. It was not his fault that his parents had introduced him to the clans so late in his life.
Galliard knew that his oldest kin held resentment when it came to him for how sheltered he had been growing up. Wrath and Gabriella had been thrown into training as soon as they were able to walk, whereas the truth of his family was hidden from Galliard until a scant few years ago. Wrath and Alfrard had fought for many moons about the fact but his father refused to budge.
Galliard already felt like a failure without his brother being on his arse about it. He has trained hard to learn the way of the blade but had only come so far in a short time. He wanted to be a warrior that his family can be proud of, tired of being babied and protected by Gabriella. Even though she means no harm by it, her constant worrying is hindering him even more from becoming an exceptional clansman.
"There was a method to my madness," Wrath assured him, not an ounce of gilt in his tone. "It had occurred to me through much nagging from our sister that although you might be incompetent when it comes to direct combat, that you might excel in other areas." He spoke, clapping Galliard on the shoulder. "I realised for someone that had only started just recently, you should not be at the same level in your magics training as the other initiates your age and yet you are." He said slowly, her voice holding something akin to respect. "This whole time I had been fretting about what you could not do that I refused to acknowledge what you were truly capable of." Muttered Wrath as if it wounded him, letting go of Galliard's arm. "You will continue with your combat training, however, you will also take up more advanced magical teachings."
"I expect far greater things from you from this day forth." He glared down at him expectantly. "Do not fail me."
Galliard was stunned, this was the closest thing to a. "Good job brother." that he had ever gotten from his eldest kin. His chest filled with pride and he nodded his head in understanding. The Prince was excited to be taking up more magic lessons, he had taken an interest in it long ago but never had the guts to ask Wrath if he could pursue the art and didn't think he had the skills for it. Galliard had been reading spell books and incantations for some time now, he knew them inside out.
He bowed to his brother and spoke with determination. "I will be the best greatest battle mage that the clan has ever produced and finally make you proud of me."
"We shall see boy," Was Wrath's icy reply, "Do not get too ahead of yourself young one."
"Thank you, brother." Galliard beamed.
Wrath nodded his head at the little Prince before walking away spinning a dagger. He waited for Wrath to round the corner before scurrying off to look for Ashlin to relay her the news. He found the Amazon in the garden practising her swordswomanship with one the sentinels of Wrath. The battle was just as intense as the last, she was always such a sight to behold in battle. Galliard hoped to be as fierce as her one day. The Amazon and sentinel stopped fighting as soon as she noticed him standing there.
"Ah, little friend you're early, what brings you here?" She questioned kneeling to his level.
Galliard was amazed that she was not at all out of breath.
"I have great news." The Prince announced, the excitement he felt clear to anyone around. "I will be taking more magic classes to become a battle mage so that I can aid my brother in the war to come."
"So you will not be needing to take our lessons?" Ashlin’s brow rose as she questioned the words, disappointed, but not willing to go against her Master’s wishes.
"Nonsense, I will be needing you more than ever." He informed her a grin splitting his face. "I would like to double my training with you, both in quantity and quality."
"As you wish my Prince." She nodded with a smile, standing once again.
"We shall start two hours before Xal first begins to peak its golden head out of the horizon and end mid-afternoon." He ordered. "I want to be ready for what is to come so I can fight alongside my kin."
"Shall we start our training for the day?" She asked, pleased with his drive.
"Of course."
Galliard spent the day training with the Amazon and the girl he has come to know as Tara. She was a pretty girl with long blonde hair and striking grey eyes that often looked upon him in judgement.
"You have the balance of a newborn drake." Tara intoned blandly, deflecting a blow to the left. Galliard scowled at the girl and charged with his wooden sword held high. He swung it down with enough force to break a few bones of a normal mortal but it hardly affected the girl as it came down on her shoulder, being one of the Blessed as well.
"And you strike like an elf child." She continued, chastising him even further.
"That would deserve praise if she had even tried to move." Ashlin snorted. "Now do it again and this time actually earn the point."
This went on for another hour or so until Galliard was so worn out and savaged he could hardly move. He thanked Tara for her help and the girl went on her way without even an indication that she had heard his thanks. Ashlin stuck around to talk to the Prince after their training.
"You have a long way to go in a short amount of time if you wish to fight in the war." The Amazon declared, looking at him. "If you go into battle with the skills you have now the results will be embarrassing."
"I am fully aware of that," Galliard mumbled, his heart shattering from the disappointment and embarrassment he felt. "I just need a little bit more time."
"Time is the last thing that we have." She replied, coming off far harsher than she meant to. "The war is fast approaching, you better hope that your magics’ skills are enough to get you through it."
"I will improve by the time the war rolls around and show you and everyone else that you are wrong about me, I can be a warrior." He lifted his head in defiance glaring at her.
"I have no doubt that you can be one, it will just take some time, though as I have said that is just something that we do not have," Ashlin pointed out, sighing. "You started your training late in life which has given you a great disadvantage but with dedication and hard work I can turn you into something great," She strongly insisted. "Now you better make haste or you will be late for your next lesson."
Galliard dashed towards his next class, he was so excited, the young Prince was practically skipping. He got there just in time, entering at the same time as Christo. Christo was the son of Lord and Lady Gruesome, their clan was the most, well... Gruesome of the masks. The way they killed was vicious and bloody. They specialised in torturing their victims before killing them regardless if they require any information from them or not. They glorified brutality and were always looking for a reason to head into battle.
"You are cutting it close." Christo barked out in irritation, annoyed that he was forced to take the disappointment off the clans’ under his wing.
"I got here the same time you did." Galliard grumbled, under his breath.
"I am the teacher, you are the student." His teacher pointed out, having no patience for the boy. "I can be as late as I please, you can not." He said matter of factly.
"I can be late all I want." Galliard mocked him under his voice.
The next thing he knew a black throwing axe sliced through the air, flying across his face it landed in the tree behind him. His eyes widened and his heartbeat sped up, he looked up and met Christo's soulless charcoal-black eyes with his own more vibrant ones.
"You will not disrespect me, you will not mock me," Christo spoke in a growl, the sound deep and rumbling. "You will do what I say when I say it and maybe, just maybe, you will accomplish something unlike with your other training."
Galliard's pride took a blow at his words but he knew they rang true. He needed to focus and treat his teacher with respect if he expected to grow and transcend into greatness.
"Do not think that I will go easy on you just because you are my Prince." Christo continued. "You will be treated the same as anyone else and expected to work thrice as hard." He said walking up and down with his hands folded behind his back. "There will be no slacking off, If I feel that you are not taking this seriously that will be the end of our training." He stopped walking and turned towards him. "Am I understood, Prince?"
"Yes, sir!" Galliard replied sharply, matching the venom of his voice to the snarkiness of his words.
"Good, now listen closely."