Without Virtue

Training

Wrath didn't think twice about getting out of whatever situation that was. The children were each given their own rooms to sleep in and the mansion still felt it could fit more than double the amount that was here. Wrath remembered getting barely a blink of sleep before being shoved off the bed and was led outside for training. The ground was brown, solid dirt, unlike the red hot ground and the area was also never ending. Wrath brought to his double edged sword that was slightly bigger than his entire arm, holding the sword and took almost everything he had to keep from dropping the sword. He thought about asking for a smaller sword, but remembered the events of yesterday if he showed weakness now, survival would be limited. He looked around and noticed that there was someone waving him over, knowing that there were no other options he walked toward his direction. The man was a giant in Wrath's eyes, maybe six foot four, eyes that were snake-like and had the same color as the lava from before. The weapon he held was a rapier, the point as thin as a needle, it looked like it weighed nothing as if the slightest breeze could move it if there was no one holding it.

"Need some assistance, you're barely holding your weapon" the snake-eyed man said. He stood up straight and his weapon was pointed down. The nonchalance in the man's body Language was clear; you're no threat to me. Wrath wanted to beat that smug attitude out of him. "I'm waiting, come on kid you're boring me and standing there isn't helping anyone" he said. It took Wrath a moment to notice that he had just been standing there, glaring at him. Wrath held the sword up high and ran right toward the man. The weight of the sword was already starting to take a toll, every time he hit the man's rapier it took all his control to keep from falling. The man was obviously not taking Wrath seriously, the amount of openings to kill him were plentiful. Wrath gave one heavy swing to hit the man's right hip but the man blocked it with his rapier one handed. The whiplash from the block made Wrath drop his sword. He looks up at the man as if waiting for a fatal strike, but it never came. The man had put down his sword and was waiting for him to get up. Wrath looked at his sword and was going to pick it up but became light headed with the sound of his heartbeat bashing his head. As if his entire body wanted to reject the sword, this battle, just this entire situation. He knew that having this feeling was useless to him, this sense of anxiety would not help in his survival and yet logic was not calming him down. "Child if you keep overthinking this it will be the end of you, how about letting your body take over instead," he said. In Wrath's mind he was confused and that was putting it mildly, What did that even mean? Wrath didn't want to go mindless, this was frustrating, at least the frustration was distracting him from his fear. He looked at his sword and began to pick it up, then a thought came to mind. He grasped a handful of dirt and tossed it toward the man's face giving him an opening and just when he thought he'd get a hit but his sword was stopped from hitting his torso. The man stopped his blade with his bare hand. Wrath tried his best to get the sword out of the man's hand yet it wouldn't budge. "I'll have to give you credit kid your clever, I can't wait to know what your name will be," he said

"I have a name, it's...," Wrath tried to speak but was interrupted by the man.

"Sorry kid you're not allowed to have a name, I'm also not allowed to know your previous name, "he said.

"Why, what's the point of that?" The look of confusion on Wrath's face morphed into fury. "What is the point in any of this?" he was still pushing the sword toward the man, still not even an inch.

"Kid I honestly couldn't tell you why, but I'm impressed by you so I'll give you my name. It's Azazel," he said. Even though Wrath couldn't see the man's eyes he could sense that it wasn't condescending. Wrath decided to pull the sword away from Azazel but this man had a vice grip. Wrath's arms were starting to get tired and the terror was starting to be evident, lucky for him Azazel couldn't see. Suddenly there was a cracking noise, quick as a speeding bullet the blade snapped. And with that instant pain, then blackness.