Chapter Two: A Small Thought

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I dreamed I was on top of the Stone Castle. Below me was the city,my home. The city was shrouded in nighttime,with only the lights to keep it alive. I glance up at the sky,where a brilliant light shined before me. I stick my hand out and reached toward it. It was so close,yet so far. "The Gate" I breathed. One day I'll reclaim what was taken from me. Except this time I won-
"ERIK!!!"
I snap awake,banging my head on my desk in the process. I wasn't on top of the Stone Castle,there was no gate,just me, in a simple classroom at Fortis Hill Academy. I glance up at Mrs.Stanley,my English teacher. Who happened to be looking at me like a bull,ready to charge at any moment. Or in this case,yell.
"SLEEPING IN CLASS IS UNACCEPTABLE!! I EXPECTED MORE OF YOU!!
Some of the kids in class snicker. Great,I won't hear the end of this for a while. "C'mon Mrs.Stanley,don't give him such a hard time" I hear Iwabe say behind me. "He's only sleeping because your teaching skills suck."
The class falls silent as Mrs.Stanley turns her attention from me to my best friend,who happened to have the balls of a bull. "E-excuse me?" Was all she could say. Iwabe leans forward in his desk and looks her dead in the eyes. "Im saying,you're doing a bad job as a teacher. Yelling at the top of your lungs for a sleeping student? Ridiculous. Cut him some slack,he has a life outside of this classroom." Before I can turn around and look at him,Iwabe had already walked out of class. Sometimes,I wonder what goes on in that head of his. After Iwabe's abrupt exit, I do my best to focus on my lesson. After several attempts of focusing however, my efforts were futile. The Gate, The Stone Castle, what the hell did it mean?
Its probably just another stupid dream. Right now I need to focus. I push the thoughts out of my head and manage to pay attention for the rest of class.

After English,I head to my locker to grab my clothes For combat training. I've always hated that class. I didn't mind the exercises themselves,just the fact there were so many people in the class. Lots of prying eyes, always looking, and always judging. It seemed like Iwabe wouldn't be there since he had just left English.
Great. Now class was going to be even worse.
I shake my head and grab my clothes. I shut my locker and make my way to the training hall.
"Alright class,pick a partner" I hear Mr.Fudo, our combat training teacher say. "Today you'll be sparring. Best of luck!" I sigh. Just great, the one day we spar, my sparring partner isn't here. I look around and I see everyone else has picked their partner. I sigh again,guess I'll just practice with a wooden dummy. I make my way over to the practice weapons to pick one up. I examine the wall carefully. I could choose between a one-handed sword or a two-handed sword. I pick up a two-handed sword and feel its familiar weight in my hands. I swing it around a bit, this will do. I rest it on my shoulder and make my way to a training dummy. As I walk over,I glance at the other students. They all had a partner and were already sparring. I stand in front of the  dummy and ready my blade,should be simple enough. I raise my blade and bring it down, but before the sword hit the dummy, I felt someone grab my arm.
"Erik,this exercise requires a partner."
I turn around and look at Mr.Fudo. Great, he must've noticed me all on my own.
"I um, don't have a partner sir" I say as I tap my fingers on my thigh. It was a habit of mine. It normally happens when I feel shy or awkward. Mr.Fudo chuckles and pulls a wooden katana from the sheath on his belt. "I guess I'll be your partner" he said. I sigh. I was really hoping to be left alone for the period but now I have to spar with my teacher. Nothing wrong with that, considering he would be a good challenge. Its just that,I don't wanna make a fool of myself in front of the class. Mr.Fudo notices my expression and laughs. "Cmon! Lighten up! It won't be that bad I promise!"
I hope he can keep that promise.
He directs me to where we have more room and we get in our ready positions. So he has a katana, and I a greatsword. Not the greatest matchup, considering the katana was faster than a greatsword. I would have to improvise. I hear a mass amount of footsteps and muttering. I look around, and notice the students have stopped their own sparring matches to watch the match.
"Wow,Erik's going up against Mr.Fudo" I hear one of the students say.
"Him? He's so going to lose" another said.
I felt a flash of irritation cross my face. What was that supposed to mean? They haven't seen me fight, I could hold my own. I shake my head and try to focus, getting irritated now wouldn't help.
Mr.Fudo looks at me and gets in a ready stance. "Ready?" He asks. I nod. He readies himself,and one of the students yell "Go!"
I barely heard "go" and Mr.Fudo had already swung at me. I manage to duck as I feel his sword slicing the air where my head just was. I get back up and he swings again. This time, I brought my sword up to block. I push back and attack myself.  He blocked and attacked again. After awhile,it became second nature. Our swords kept crossing, but never hitting our bodies. For some odd reason, I found this fun. I didn't have to go all out, but I sure as hell had to try. It was prefect.  I could feel the kids eyes on me as I fought. I hope they were surprised.
Mr.Fudo jumps back from one of my attacks and holds his arms up in mock surrender. "Well done!" He beams. "I could hardly keep up!"  Keep up? I wasn't that fast. If anything, I could hardly keep up with him. He sheathed his wooden katana and looks at the students. "Thats all for today class,be sure you pack up neatly." The students disperse and go to pack up. I shoulder the wooden greatsword and make my way back over to the rack.
That wasn't too bad, I guess I was just over thinking things.
I put the sword back and turn around to go grab my things. To my suprise, Mr.Fudo was right behind me. "A moment?" He asked.
"Sure" I reply. I wonder what this was about. His smile fades a little as he looks in my eyes. "I want you to sign up for the school tournament" he said.

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