“When facing an enemy bigger and stronger than you, strike at their legs or arms. If you cripple their mobility, the enemy will lose its ability to respond to your next attacks.” My father spoke while the cracking sound of wood striking flesh echoed through the yard.
Donte fell to the ground, clutching his leg in pain. He fought back tears while glaring up at my father. He had no time to recover before the wooden sword stuck again, coming to a stop less than a finger's length from Donte’s neck. A pale sheen of sweat appeared on Donte’s face as his own wooden sword fell to the ground; useless.
“Never Drop your weapon!” My father shouted, “Your weapon is your life. Without it you will die, unable to resist.”
Yes sir!” Donte responded, scrambling for the fallen sword. He hopped to his feet, wincing as he put weight on the injured leg. Donte charged at my father, but after a few haphazard swings, he was back on the ground. His wooden sword was knocked out of his hand and once again lay in the grass.
“Again!” Commanded my father with a booming voice.
Donte struggled to his feet. His muscles shaking with every movement. Grabbing the sword, he raised it in front of him. Determination flared in his eyes as he again charged at my father. Without and suspense, he was thrown to the ground once more.
“Again!”
Again and again, Donte was beaten and thrown down. Never once did he manage a solid hit against my father. Donte glared at my father as his sword was thrown from his grasp again. His eyes began to glow bright. Rather than surrender, Donte roared like an animal. Wind whipped at the surrounding, causing grooves in the dirt. He moved to take a step towards my father, but before he could, the wooden sword slammed into his stomach.
The sound of Donte’s retches filled the yard. He fell to the grass, unmoving as he clutched his stomach. His heavy breathing was the only sign he was still conscious.
“You have to learn the basics before learning to fight with your innate talent,” my father lectured, “Only through repetition will your body will be able to react fast enough in times of crisis. Once you have learned how to attack and defend without floundering to the ground, we will add more advanced ways of dealing with your opponents.”
Donte spoke with ragged breaths. “Can’t you go easy on me? How am I to learn anything if I can’t even block a single move?”
“You think your enemy will go easy on you?” my father asked, “Let me tell you, I spent decades on the battlefield. The most important thing I learned in that time is you must never slack in your training. Your training is the one and only thing you can truly rely on. Every drop of sweat you shed now is one less drop of blood later.”
Donte grabbed hold of the wooden sword, his knuckles turning white from the effort. With unsteady legs, Donte slowly stood. He raised his sword in front of him and shouted. “Again!”
My father smiled as the two wooden blades clashed. The clatter of wood striking wood echoed in the evening light.
I laid comfortably in the grass nearby, watching the clouds drift overhead as the two boys sparred. With my arms behind my head, I closed my eyes and focused on my own daily training.
My lazy appearance was entirely false as a war waged inside my body. Flames raged inside my body. Muscles tore and shredded before the flames moved to repair the damage. The pain was excruciating, but with each repetition came benefits.
Every time my body was healed, it grew slightly stronger. It was a slow repetition of searing pain and recovery. I had done this every night since was reborn, and the benefits were beginning to show. Muscles hardened and tendons toughened. My bones would grow harder to break, and even my skin would become difficult to pierce. This was a way of strengthening myself that only I could do with my innate talent. The flames would mold and transform my body. With enough time my biology would begin to imitate the monstrous physiques of the First Division.
I no longer grew tired from just a few hours on my feet. I could run and move far faster than when I was first reborn. Though I could still not match an adult like my father, I was happy with the results. Even though Donte was still stronger than me, I was not worried. Strength could not be obtained overnight. It was a process.
Even my flames had grown stronger from the continuous use. Though, I was not as interested in those mediocre results. Once I had my Chronicle, I would be able to regain my old flames from decades of training in the best of environments. My current flame’s improvement was nothing more than drops in the ocean.
“Wren, stop lazing about. If you need something to do, help your grandmother file her reports on progress in the quarantine zone.”
I squinted my eyes as I shielded them from the evening light. My mother and grandmother had just gotten back from their work. My mother had her hands on her hips, while my grandmother smiled apologetically.
“Let her rest, Tia. The child looks tired,” My grandmother spoke on my behalf.
“Tired? Her unit reported she left halfway through the day. What does she have to be tired about? The least you could do is tell me before you disappear in the lower city without telling anyone where you were going. What if something happened?”
“You have been putting a lot of responsibilities on her little shoulders. Half a day off from time to time is not a bad thing.”
“You are spoiling her,” My mother replied, “She wanted the responsibility, and now she must answer for it.”
“Captain Kadmos has things under control,” I replied with a dismissive wave, “Honestly, with his innate talent, he does not really need my help. When it comes to finding the infected, Nox and Sylvie’s senses cannot compare to someone that can see through solid objects.”
“That is not an excuse!” My mother replied, raising her voice.
“Tia, just let it go,” My grandmother responded, “Do not take out your stress on those around you.”
My mother turned on my grandmother. “I do not understand. When I was growing up you would never let something like this slide. But ever since I got back, you are like a completely different person.”
“People change. I changed. You were gone for over twenty years. It was a lot of… time. Time to remember. Time to regret… I was a bad mother. I never listened. Even when you were shouting at me, I never listened…”
“You—”
“You are my daughter, even after all these years I can tell. Ever since you got here you have been under a ton of stress. How could you not be, everything you love is at stake. However, do not take that out on those around you. Do not make my mistakes. Listen.”
“I… I am sorry,” My mother said, shoulders slumped. The outburst I expected never came. “I have been somewhat overbearing lately, haven’t I? Wren why don’t you tell me what happened today, I will listen.”
“Well…” I spoke looking over at the two sparring boys. They had distanced themselves from the conversation when my mother first arrived. “We went by Donte’s house today...” I explained, detailing his emotional breakdown. “I did not want him to be alone after that, and since Kadmos can handle patrols without me I wanted to cheer him up a bit.”
“I see…” My mother whispered. “I was wrong. You did the right thing. Helping someone in need is never a mistake.”
My grandmother grinned happily and placed an arm around her daughter. “Now that that is settled, you two come have tea with me. I have a wonderful new sweet from overseas I want you to try. It is delicious.”
Night settled across the city. My grandmother, mother, and I spent hours together laughing and enjoying delicious food. I got the opportunity to hear many stories from when my mom was a child. Her many antics made me look like a well-behaved angel.
My grandmother turned in for the night, and we were about to do the same when the butler, Jacob, approached us.
“Miss Tia, before you go to bed, there is something I want you to see.”
“What is it?” My mother asked while Jacob led us to a room on the second story.
“I know Miss Selene is very different from how you remember her, and you are having a hard time reconciling that with how she was in your memories. I think that maybe this will help you understand.” Jacob replied stopping in front of a large wooden door.
“My father’s old study?” My mother asked confused.
“Your mother’s now,” He replied opening the door. Inside, the only furniture was a single desk against the far wall and multiple large crates filled with letters. In fact, letters were scattered everywhere through the room. hundreds of letters, all neatly stacked one on top of the other.
“What is this?”
“Do you remember when you first arrived, I mentioned that we were not hiring any more informants for the time being?”
“Yes, I was wondering about that, but with everything that has happened, I never got the chance to ask. I just assumed it was some political dirt she was trying to get.”
Jacob shook his head. “Over the years your mother has hired hundreds of informants. All of them with a single purpose.”
“What purpose?”
“Read the letters for yourself,” Jacob replied.
Hesitant, my mother stepped into the room. With shaking hands, she picked up one of the letters on the desk. It was an old and yellowed piece of parchment that looked like it had been handled hundreds of times, covered in smudges and wrinkles.
As my mother silently read the letter, tears began to slide down her face. She covered her mouth, failing to suppress the sobs.
Curious, I walked into the small room and picked up another of the well-worn letters. What I read was not what I expected.
Dear Lady Selene
Today is a truly joyous occasion. You have become a grandmother! Prometia gave birth to a beautiful baby boy today. His name is Charles. The nursemaid reported that he is a healthy and lively child. She said he has his father’s eyes and mother’s nose.
Prometia handled her first birth well and she will make a full recovery soon. Those who helped her deliver the baby say she is one of the toughest women they have ever seen.
After the birth, there were rumors that Prometia and Renald might retire from the front lines to raise the child. The accomplishments of the two are more than enough for a knight’s fiefdom on the edge of the kingdom. I will keep you informed once I learn more.
I put down the letter and picked up another one. This one painted the wedding between my parents in elaborate detail. Paragraphs of descriptions filled nearly a dozen pages, as well as a few illustrations.
Another letter, maybe the oldest of and most worn on the table was laid prominently on the top of the desk.
Dear Lady Selene
I found her! After nearly two years, I found her! Your daughter is safe and unharmed. She has joined the Novus kingdom army as a squire. All her instructors I talked to claim she Is excelling and will one day become one of the greatest soldiers in the kingdom.
The knight she serves is named Arthur. By all accounts, he is a good man and treats his squires well. I could not find any signs that he was mistreating Prometia in any way.
I saw her on the training grounds and included an illustration with this letter. she seems happy and was even smiling when facing down an older squire in a dual. The Squire’s name was Renald, apparently, the two of them have a pretty bad rivalry. The two both serve Arthur and fight and squabble every day. The most recent duel was just one of many the two have had after an argument broke out after some slight.
…
..
.
Dozens of paragraphs detailed everything the informant had found out about my mother’s daily life. The informant had done a fabulous job in explaining everything he learned. Attached to the letter were a dozen illustrations of my mother. They were incredibly realistic and done by a great artist. It was fascinating seeing what my mother looked like when she was younger.
“This signature, isn’t it the tailor back home? I bought my favorite dress from her.” I said, skeptically.
My mother nodded. She was silently reading another letter. Tears flowed freely down her face.
Jacob broke the silence. “After you ran away, Lady Selene spent years trying to find you. Everyone thought you were dead, but she never gave up. She always knew that no matter where you went, you would excel.”
“Why did she not just come and visit me?” My mother asked through the tears.
“I asked her the same thing once as well,” Jacob continued, “She told me, you would not want to see her. That the two of you meeting would only cause more pain for both of you. She was content just knowing you were safe and happy.”
My mother sobbed. “I thought she hated me. I never even wrote her, not when I got married, or when my children were born. I wish… if only I knew.”
“I could never hate you.” Came a voice from the doorway. I turned to see my grandmother standing with tears in her eyes. “I just wanted what was best for you. I just never understood that I could not force you to accept what I thought was best.”
“Mom…”
“If only I knew how wrong I was back then. You have accomplished more than I could have ever imagined,” My grandmother continued her voice almost a whisper, “I am so proud of you.”
My mother broke down into sobs, as she grabbed hold of my grandmother in a tight hug. “I am so sorry I left.”
“Shh, none of that. We cannot change the past. All we can do is try to be better moving forward.”
The two hugged each other tightly and cried. their sobs filled the rooms of the house late into the night.
“When facing an enemy bigger and stronger than you, strike at their legs or arms. If you cripple their mobility, the enemy will lose its ability to respond to your next attacks.” My father spoke while the cracking sound of wood striking flesh echoed through the yard.
Donte fell to the ground, clutching his leg in pain. He fought back tears while glaring up at my father. He had no time to recover before the wooden sword stuck again, coming to a stop less than a finger's length from Donte’s neck. A pale sheen of sweat appeared on Donte’s face as his own wooden sword fell to the ground; useless.
“Never Drop your weapon!” My father shouted, “Your weapon is your life. Without it you will die, unable to resist.”
Yes sir!” Donte responded, scrambling for the fallen sword. He hopped to his feet, wincing as he put weight on the injured leg. Donte charged at my father, but after a few haphazard swings, he was back on the ground. His wooden sword was knocked out of his hand and once again lay in the grass.
“Again!” Commanded my father with a booming voice.
Donte struggled to his feet. His muscles shaking with every movement. Grabbing the sword, he raised it in front of him. Determination flared in his eyes as he again charged at my father. Without and suspense, he was thrown to the ground once more.
“Again!”
Again and again, Donte was beaten and thrown down. Never once did he manage a solid hit against my father. Donte glared at my father as his sword was thrown from his grasp again. His eyes began to glow bright. Rather than surrender, Donte roared like an animal. Wind whipped at the surrounding, causing grooves in the dirt. He moved to take a step towards my father, but before he could, the wooden sword slammed into his stomach.
The sound of Donte’s retches filled the yard. He fell to the grass, unmoving as he clutched his stomach. His heavy breathing was the only sign he was still conscious.
“You have to learn the basics before learning to fight with your innate talent,” my father lectured, “Only through repetition will your body will be able to react fast enough in times of crisis. Once you have learned how to attack and defend without floundering to the ground, we will add more advanced ways of dealing with your opponents.”
Donte spoke with ragged breaths. “Can’t you go easy on me? How am I to learn anything if I can’t even block a single move?”
“You think your enemy will go easy on you?” my father asked, “Let me tell you, I spent decades on the battlefield. The most important thing I learned in that time is you must never slack in your training. Your training is the one and only thing you can truly rely on. Every drop of sweat you shed now is one less drop of blood later.”
Donte grabbed hold of the wooden sword, his knuckles turning white from the effort. With unsteady legs, Donte slowly stood. He raised his sword in front of him and shouted. “Again!”
My father smiled as the two wooden blades clashed. The clatter of wood striking wood echoed in the evening light.
I laid comfortably in the grass nearby, watching the clouds drift overhead as the two boys sparred. With my arms behind my head, I closed my eyes and focused on my own daily training.
My lazy appearance was entirely false as a war waged inside my body. Flames raged inside my body. Muscles tore and shredded before the flames moved to repair the damage. The pain was excruciating, but with each repetition came benefits.
Every time my body was healed, it grew slightly stronger. It was a slow repetition of searing pain and recovery. I had done this every night since was reborn, and the benefits were beginning to show. Muscles hardened and tendons toughened. My bones would grow harder to break, and even my skin would become difficult to pierce. This was a way of strengthening myself that only I could do with my innate talent. The flames would mold and transform my body. With enough time my biology would begin to imitate the monstrous physiques of the First Division.
I no longer grew tired from just a few hours on my feet. I could run and move far faster than when I was first reborn. Though I could still not match an adult like my father, I was happy with the results. Even though Donte was still stronger than me, I was not worried. Strength could not be obtained overnight. It was a process.
Even my flames had grown stronger from the continuous use. Though, I was not as interested in those mediocre results. Once I had my Chronicle, I would be able to regain my old flames from decades of training in the best of environments. My current flame’s improvement was nothing more than drops in the ocean.
“Wren, stop lazing about. If you need something to do, help your grandmother file her reports on progress in the quarantine zone.”
I squinted my eyes as I shielded them from the evening light. My mother and grandmother had just gotten back from their work. My mother had her hands on her hips, while my grandmother smiled apologetically.
“Let her rest, Tia. The child looks tired,” My grandmother spoke on my behalf.
“Tired? Her unit reported she left halfway through the day. What does she have to be tired about? The least you could do is tell me before you disappear in the lower city without telling anyone where you were going. What if something happened?”
“You have been putting a lot of responsibilities on her little shoulders. Half a day off from time to time is not a bad thing.”
“You are spoiling her,” My mother replied, “She wanted the responsibility, and now she must answer for it.”
“Captain Kadmos has things under control,” I replied with a dismissive wave, “Honestly, with his innate talent, he does not really need my help. When it comes to finding the infected, Nox and Sylvie’s senses cannot compare to someone that can see through solid objects.”
“That is not an excuse!” My mother replied, raising her voice.
“Tia, just let it go,” My grandmother responded, “Do not take out your stress on those around you.”
My mother turned on my grandmother. “I do not understand. When I was growing up you would never let something like this slide. But ever since I got back, you are like a completely different person.”
“People change. I changed. You were gone for over twenty years. It was a lot of… time. Time to remember. Time to regret… I was a bad mother. I never listened. Even when you were shouting at me, I never listened…”
“You—”
“You are my daughter, even after all these years I can tell. Ever since you got here you have been under a ton of stress. How could you not be, everything you love is at stake. However, do not take that out on those around you. Do not make my mistakes. Listen.”
“I… I am sorry,” My mother said, shoulders slumped. The outburst I expected never came. “I have been somewhat overbearing lately, haven’t I? Wren why don’t you tell me what happened today, I will listen.”
“Well…” I spoke looking over at the two sparring boys. They had distanced themselves from the conversation when my mother first arrived. “We went by Donte’s house today...” I explained, detailing his emotional breakdown. “I did not want him to be alone after that, and since Kadmos can handle patrols without me I wanted to cheer him up a bit.”
“I see…” My mother whispered. “I was wrong. You did the right thing. Helping someone in need is never a mistake.”
My grandmother grinned happily and placed an arm around her daughter. “Now that that is settled, you two come have tea with me. I have a wonderful new sweet from overseas I want you to try. It is delicious.”
Night settled across the city. My grandmother, mother, and I spent hours together laughing and enjoying delicious food. I got the opportunity to hear many stories from when my mom was a child. Her many antics made me look like a well-behaved angel.
My grandmother turned in for the night, and we were about to do the same when the butler, Jacob, approached us.
“Miss Tia, before you go to bed, there is something I want you to see.”
“What is it?” My mother asked while Jacob led us to a room on the second story.
“I know Miss Selene is very different from how you remember her, and you are having a hard time reconciling that with how she was in your memories. I think that maybe this will help you understand.” Jacob replied stopping in front of a large wooden door.
“My father’s old study?” My mother asked confused.
“Your mother’s now,” He replied opening the door. Inside, the only furniture was a single desk against the far wall and multiple large crates filled with letters. In fact, letters were scattered everywhere through the room. hundreds of letters, all neatly stacked one on top of the other.
“What is this?”
“Do you remember when you first arrived, I mentioned that we were not hiring any more informants for the time being?”
“Yes, I was wondering about that, but with everything that has happened, I never got the chance to ask. I just assumed it was some political dirt she was trying to get.”
Jacob shook his head. “Over the years your mother has hired hundreds of informants. All of them with a single purpose.”
“What purpose?”
“Read the letters for yourself,” Jacob replied.
Hesitant, my mother stepped into the room. With shaking hands, she picked up one of the letters on the desk. It was an old and yellowed piece of parchment that looked like it had been handled hundreds of times, covered in smudges and wrinkles.
As my mother silently read the letter, tears began to slide down her face. She covered her mouth, failing to suppress the sobs.
Curious, I walked into the small room and picked up another of the well-worn letters. What I read was not what I expected.
Dear Lady Selene
Today is a truly joyous occasion. You have become a grandmother! Prometia gave birth to a beautiful baby boy today. His name is Charles. The nursemaid reported that he is a healthy and lively child. She said he has his father’s eyes and mother’s nose.
Prometia handled her first birth well and she will make a full recovery soon. Those who helped her deliver the baby say she is one of the toughest women they have ever seen.
After the birth, there were rumors that Prometia and Renald might retire from the front lines to raise the child. The accomplishments of the two are more than enough for a knight’s fiefdom on the edge of the kingdom. I will keep you informed once I learn more.
I put down the letter and picked up another one. This one painted the wedding between my parents in elaborate detail. Paragraphs of descriptions filled nearly a dozen pages, as well as a few illustrations.
Another letter, maybe the oldest of and most worn on the table was laid prominently on the top of the desk.
Dear Lady Selene
I found her! After nearly two years, I found her! Your daughter is safe and unharmed. She has joined the Novus kingdom army as a squire. All her instructors I talked to claim she Is excelling and will one day become one of the greatest soldiers in the kingdom.
The knight she serves is named Arthur. By all accounts, he is a good man and treats his squires well. I could not find any signs that he was mistreating Prometia in any way.
I saw her on the training grounds and included an illustration with this letter. she seems happy and was even smiling when facing down an older squire in a dual. The Squire’s name was Renald, apparently, the two of them have a pretty bad rivalry. The two both serve Arthur and fight and squabble every day. The most recent duel was just one of many the two have had after an argument broke out after some slight.
…
..
.
Dozens of paragraphs detailed everything the informant had found out about my mother’s daily life. The informant had done a fabulous job in explaining everything he learned. Attached to the letter were a dozen illustrations of my mother. They were incredibly realistic and done by a great artist. It was fascinating seeing what my mother looked like when she was younger.
“This signature, isn’t it the tailor back home? I bought my favorite dress from her.” I said, skeptically.
My mother nodded. She was silently reading another letter. Tears flowed freely down her face.
Jacob broke the silence. “After you ran away, Lady Selene spent years trying to find you. Everyone thought you were dead, but she never gave up. She always knew that no matter where you went, you would excel.”
“Why did she not just come and visit me?” My mother asked through the tears.
“I asked her the same thing once as well,” Jacob continued, “She told me, you would not want to see her. That the two of you meeting would only cause more pain for both of you. She was content just knowing you were safe and happy.”
My mother sobbed. “I thought she hated me. I never even wrote her, not when I got married, or when my children were born. I wish… if only I knew.”
“I could never hate you.” Came a voice from the doorway. I turned to see my grandmother standing with tears in her eyes. “I just wanted what was best for you. I just never understood that I could not force you to accept what I thought was best.”
“Mom…”
“If only I knew how wrong I was back then. You have accomplished more than I could have ever imagined,” My grandmother continued her voice almost a whisper, “I am so proud of you.”
My mother broke down into sobs, as she grabbed hold of my grandmother in a tight hug. “I am so sorry I left.”
“Shh, none of that. We cannot change the past. All we can do is try to be better moving forward.”
The two hugged each other tightly and cried. their sobs filled the rooms of the house late into the night.
