The echoes of wood crashing against wood resounded in the cave, bouncing off the walls and echoing out from the outside. Other than that, it is quiet outside, the animals stayed away from that area as they also heard the hurt grunts of a boy. The sounds of a boy who didn't give up.
Salem readied his stance as 6 thick wooden sticks rose through the air and surrounded him. They levitated up and down slowly, not making any moves toward Salem yet. In the center, Salem's eyes dashed back and forth from each rod, waiting, observing. His body was still, but he kept his weight on the balls of his feet.
Last time he attacked with the one that was exactly behind me, he is no fool, he would definitely change it up.
Woosh-
He heard the air split on his right side, and instinctively, Salem went to block. His wooden training sword met the stick, blocking it before it could touch his body. The magical aura around it disappeared, and the strength it held against Salem's sword dissipated with it, then the stick lifelessly fell to the floor.
1 down… 5 more to go.
The air split from behind him! He quickly stepped to the side and swung in a sideways arc. His sword met it, and with that, he pushed the sword off course. Once it zoomed past him, the stick fell to the floor with a thud.
2 down… 4 to go.
Both his ears picked up movement from the right and left sides of him. A pincer attack from each angle, and from the sounds of it, the right one was thrusting forward, and the left was going for an overhead slash.
Alright, stay calm. If you were ever surrounded, this is going to happen a lot. Why did it have to be two separate attacks, though? If they were the same, it would be much easier, but since they are different angles, I need to be quick. I need to meet one and hurry to meet the other; I am quicker than these sticks.
He swiped the training sword in another sideways slash, prepared to force the one thrusting off course. Upon achieving that, he quickly gritted his teeth as every muscle burned from him pushing past the force and momentum of that sword to hurry and meet the wooden stick slashing.
He spun on his heel and kept the sideways slash going, ready to meet the down-slashing stick. His palms were covered in sweat, and his arm screamed at him for rest, but that didn't stop him.
He needed to do this; if he couldn't achieve something as simple as this, then it only proved his weakness. Showed his weakness. His father could do something like this with his sword skills. That's what he was mimicking right now.
The image of his father gathering the village kids together to train sparked in his mind. He remembered when two rambunctious boys challenged him, thinking that a similar attack would hit him.
Salem watched in awe as he parried both attacks in a single swing before counterattacking the boys, knocking the air out of them. That is why he could do it, no, why he needed to do it.
Clank!
The sword met the stick, but Salem could only watch with wide eyes as the handle slipped out of his hand. The stick's momentum was barely stopped, and soon a jolt of pain rushed through the top of Salem's head.
Salem jolted back and massaged his head with his hand.
"Harhar- that one looked pretty nasty."
The seer who was sitting on a rock, observing and controlling the wooden sticks with levitation magic, let out his laugh. That laugh that sounded like it was coming out of a person desperate for water. One that has begun to sound all too familiar to Salem.
"Another hit! Take a rest, Salem, we can start again once you are ready-"
"Now, I'm ready."
Salem crouched down and grabbed the handle of his training sword.
"Let's go again, I can get it. Just give me one more try to do it."
Salem was out of breath and his muscles were sore and desperate for rest, despite that, something in him didn't want to give up. Was it pride? Urgency?
His thoughts went back to his father, one of the best swordsmen in the village. He knew deep down he was not good enough; he knew his skills at the sword could never hope to match his. But was it wrong to still try? To be something he couldn't?
The seer let out a small sigh as he swirled the rod in a circular motion.
"If that is what you wish, then I will not let this motivation go to waste. Progress is progress, even if it's too small to make a difference."
The magical aura surrounded the wooden sticks, and they left in the air again. They rotated around Salem, who was in his stance, ready at any moment. Once they were in position again, completely surrounding him, they struck.
…
"Hit!"
The wooden stick smacked the top of his head again.
Again! I can feel it this time. I'm getting closer, I'm right there!
"Hit!"
He was hit dead center in his stomach, causing him to lose air in his lungs. He keeled over, holding his stomach as he breathed rapidly, trying to refill it as quickly as possible.
Strength! I just need to get stronger! More repetitions! That is what I need!
"Hit!"
The thrusting stick slammed into his back, causing him to fall over and let out a grunt of pain.
Why aren't you getting stronger? Are you that useless? You've been through this how many times? Just do it! You've seen him do it! Just copy him for heaven's sake, you useless piece of shit!
"Hit!"
Once again, the sword left his grasp, and it flung across the cave and hit the wall. With him disarmed, the stick tapped his chest gently as Salem stood there with his head down. His eyes were glued to the floor, relishing in disappointment.
"Phew-"
The seer wiped off a bit of sweat from his forehead.
"You sure have a lot of energy, you may not need a break, but I sure do. Practice on your form for a bit if you want to keep training."
The seer got up and wordlessly walked past the silent Salem while humming. Salem waited a bit until the seer was out of sight around the corner. His eyes scanned the cave to make sure he was alone before he fell to his knees.
What am I doing wrong? Am I not a son of Arkan village? Anyone else could pull off such a move with ease… So why am I so different? Why am I so useless?
He looked at his hands, which were now littered with blisters, and some of the skin was peeling off.
These useless hands. They can never keep a sword in it for long, it always escapes my grasp.
This is why you ran, you couldn't have done anything. Think back to that beastman in the forest. Disarmed and hopeless, even with a sword, there isn't much you can do; you couldn't have helped at all.
The seer is wasting his time, becoming stronger, becoming something greater, a chosen one. Filling your head with these lies and false hopes. Hoping to redeem yourself for your cowardice? Is that what you expect? Well, you can't change.
Salem stood up and exited the cave, he took in a fresh breath of air as he began to walk through the forest.
I need to relax my mind a bit. I won't go far, if something happens, I know I can run back fast enough before something catches me.
The farther he got from the cave, the more life became noticeable. Birds chirping, ants carrying food in a line, bugs crawling up trees. It was simple and calm. The serene effect washed over Salem, and he even let a small smirk come across his face.
Nothing helps clear my mind more than walking through the woods, away from people and stress.
Soon, he came across a small flowing stream. It was only about 2 feet wide but it was particularly deep. The land curved down in a saddle, which created its path.
"This must be where Mr. Seer gets the water from."
Salem crouches down and pokes at it with a stick. Watching how the stick interrupts the current and the water flows around it. He swirled the stick around and continued to watch how the current flowed around it.
It is weird how something this small is interesting and relaxing to watch. Instead of forcing its way through the stick, the currents simply move around it… It does seem easier that way, doesn't it?
He let go of the stick and watched as the currents took it. It danced in the stream until it was submerged and went under where Salem couldn't see it anymore.
Salem began staring at where it once was while being deep in thought.
It does seem easier, doesn't it?