Legacy of the Destroyer: Ragnarök

Chapter VIII: Training

CHAPTER VIII: TRAINING

IT WAS STILL DARK when Demetri opened his eyes, having been awakened by a chirping outside his window. Groaning, he threw the covers off himself and sat up, bleary-eyed. The door creaked open, allowing Deiri through, carrying a basin of water.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning to you, too, Demetri,” Deiri said pleasantly. “Why are you already awake?”

He wondered if the older girl had really forgotten, or if she was hoping he had forgotten about it. “My training starts today.”

“Oh. Right.” Deiri still sounded disapproving of his desire to learn combat arts. Although it was something he had to learn anyway, he was quite eager to begin. He didn’t want to be left unable to help someone close to him ever again. He was going to learn how to protect himself—and those near him.

Deiri left and returned with fresh linen for his bed while he washed up. He stripped off his night clothes changed into simple, roomy ones he could move easily in. “Why are you doing this?”

Demetri didn’t turn. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’re back here, safe and sound. There isn’t a need for you to learn how to fight.”

“I’m not learning how to fight. I’m learning how to defend myself. And those who need to be protected.” He used a small piece of twine to gather his hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. His fingers slipped and Deiri came over to help him. “Besides, being here is no guarantee that I’ll be safe.”

Her fingers were quick. “You are safe here. Master Amoris will—”

“I don’t need to be protected anymore!” he half-yelled. “I don’t want to have to go through losing someone again. It’s my fault that Mother—“ He gulped, unable to continue. “Anyway, I’m not the weak little boy you thought I was.” He put his boots on and checked the sole to make sure the knife was still there. “I don’t need protection.”

Deiri looked like she wanted to argue some more but he quickly left the room, shutting the door behind him. He slid down against the door, putting his head in his hands. Was this really the right thing to do?

He answered his own question immediately. Yes. He had to. Avera had died because he had been too weak. That wasn’t going to be the case anymore.

Deiri couldn’t stop him from learning.

“Stand up, Demetrius!” Amoris’ sharp voice cut into his thoughts. With a moan, he got to his feet. It was the fifth time he had been knocked off his feet.

“Perhaps we should take a break?” his instructor asked. “The lad looks dead on his feet.”

Amoris looked coldly back. “No,” Demetri said. “Let’s keep going.”

With silent approval from Amoris, the instructor sighed and motioned to his student once more. “Come.” He charged him, a wooden sword in his hand. Just before he would have made contact, Dyreth foiled him by stepping to the side. Unprepared for it, Demetri tipped to one side and nearly fell over. Dyreth shook his head. “Lad, you need to think. Charging blindly won’t help. Link your attacks.” With the staff he was holding, Dyreth rapped Demetri’s knuckles, causing him to cry out in pain. “You aren’t holding your sword properly. Your grip must be firm.”

“Yes, sir.” Demetri shifted the grip on the sword and moved into his stance again. Dyreth tapped his shoulder and then his torso.

“Your stance is full of holes.”