NBA Fanfiction Collection (2018-2019)

Luka and the Legend - 10/12/18

The rhythmic clanking of wooden training swords and shields reverberated through the training ground of Flatlands Castle. The Galloping Knights of Dallas stopped to watch and smiled as they looked upon their savior in an ever-intensifying training session. The Golden Eagle, Luka Doncic executed a sequence of sword strikes with increasing speed and accuracy. The knights could barely contain their excitement as their he progressed through the drills. At the same time, they wondered what knowledge the young lord's instructor, The Speckled Rooster, Dirk Nowitzki would hand down.

"Excellent, child. Again!", the Rooster barked after Doncic completed the sequence once more. The boy assumed his stance and completed the sequence even faster. This time so fast that even the old legend struggled to parry them.

"Again! Don't exhale so much!"

The boy struck even faster and with more fury, but this time spun in a circle before the final strike. After the flowery strike ,Dirk dug the tip of his wooden sword into the young lord's chest and thrust him backwards.

"Foolish boy! Never turn your back to your opponent! These are not the European territories, this world is full of warriors who will make you pay for your arrogance."

A defiant Doncic snapped back at the old legend with a confident if not slightly petulant grin on his face.

"It doesn't matter, old man! I have speed, power, and grace unlike any knight in any territory! No one can defeat me..."

Dirk stood up straight and smiled back. He has no doubt in the boy's physical abilities, but his mind needs shaping.

"Is that so?" Dirk quipped back with the slightest of laughs. "Go on then, hit me. Hit me with all the speed and power you have. Hold nothing back, little lord."

Doncic smirked, took a few small steps backwards and assumed his battle stance. Dirk moved nothing but his wrist to ensure his sword was pointed perfectly square at his young opponent. Curiously, he let the handle slide down to the point where he was holding the very end of the handle with three fingers as one would hold a pencil.

Doncic wondered what he was up to. Nonetheless, he quickly calculated and determined that he would simply smash the weakly gripped sword away and strike after the disarmament.

The very instant Doncic began to dash forward, the towering Nowitzki leaned backward on one leg, formed a shield with the other, and pinned the tip of his training sword on the Golden Eagle's forehead with outstretched reach. He paused in the awkward pose for a moment, and with little effort pushed Doncic backward.

"Hey you cheated!!!!! That's not fair! That would never work in a REAL duel!!!" The boy screamed in frustration and disbelief.

The old lord chuckled, walked backwards a few paces, and pointed his sword.

"Heh....again, boy."

The onlooking knights chuckled along with their leader and retired back to the castle. The rhythm of the clanking swords resumed behind them.