Lunar Flare Book 1: Crimson Moon

Chapter 4

Beowulf found the morning training session to be a little boring. He stood leaning against a wall, watching the others practice in pairs or small groups. No one really wanted to train with him, considering how easily he could overpower them without even having any real weapon skill. Though the training officer liked to keep him around in order to put in place any recruits that got too cocky.

"I could take out anyone who challenged me on the battlefield!" one of the soldiers decided to boast to his comrades, full of confidence and bravado. He was a brash youth of average stature with sandy hair, not much different from many of the other soldiers which filled the training ground.

"Oh?" the training officer, whose name was Cassian, called out from a few paces away from them, pausing his demonstration of proper parrying technique he was giving to some of the other soldiers. While he didn't cut a very intimidating figure, being also only an average sized man, all the soldiers knew of and respected his skills in sword fighting. He took a few steps towards the group, and then gestured over to Beowulf. "What about Beowulf, could you take him down?" he asked in a serious tone.

The boasting soldier's smile dropped away, his expression turning unsure as he looked between the towering guard and the officer. "H-Hey, that's not fair, you can't expect any of us to take down that freak of nature." Beowulf bristled slightly at that, frowning under his helmet.

"What, you are completely confident you will never have to fight anyone like him on the field of battle?" Cassian asked with a stern gaze and narrowed eyebrows, which were bushy and fair, just like his hair and beard. "Hey Beowulf, come over here."

As Beowulf approached the group, the cocky soldier's expression turned nervous. "Hey hey hey, I don't want to fight him!" the soldier entreated, putting up his hands in surrender.

"But my friend, we all want to see your amazing fighting prowess that helps you take out any enemy," Cassian said with a sly smile. "I'll even give you an advantage: I won't give Beowulf a weapon. Surely you can take down an unarmed man, right, even one as large as him?"

The smaller man looked up at Beowulf apprehensively, then shot the officer a beseeching look.

"Draw your sword soldier, the enemy is before you," Cassian commanded the soldier. "That's an order, Landyn," he added wearily when the man hesitated.

As the soldier Landyn faced Beowulf and drew his weapon, the other men and Cassian backed away from the two of them, giving them room to fight. Beowulf stood silently, watching the soldier carefully as he approached. After a moment of standoff between them, Landyn lunged at Beowulf with his weapon.

Beowulf reached out and grabbed the man's hand which held the sword, stopping the blade in the air. Then, as Landyn's blue eyes went wide, Beowulf slowly started to squeeze his armoured hand down over the soldier's. Landyn quickly reached up with his other hand, trying to pry Beowulf's off, to no avail. Beowulf kept squeezing down tighter, and he heard a gasp of pain escape the man.

After a bit more squeezing, and Landyn desperately scrabbling at Beowulf's gauntlet with his free hand, Beowulf felt the soldier's grip on the sword loosen. In one swift movement Beowulf pulled the sword hilt out of the man's grasp, tossing the weapon to one side. He then took a threatening step towards Landyn, who quivered under his towering form, visibly swallowing deeply.

"That's enough Beowulf, no need to make him soil himself," Cassian ordered, and Beowulf instantly backed down, stepping away and watching the smaller man silently. Cassian approached Landyn, clapping him on the back jovially. "Your hand alright soldier?" the officer asked when the man cradled his hand against his chest. "I hope you didn't break it, Beowulf," he added with a sigh. Beowulf put his own hands up in surrender.