A Memory of the Past

It was a quiet day and Daedalus had managed to finish his work on the farm enough for a short break. He didn't often get a chance to take a break so he was just sitting in his armchair on the porch looking over the glowing fields.

It was times like these that Daedalus felt his age the most. The quietness would leave him to his thoughts and he would remember.

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He was young, but that didn't matter, he had never truly kept track of how old he was, only a vague idea. It was shortly after learning that his cousin had been murdered by nobles of the elven empire.

He had left the safety of his aunt's empire to train so that he would never lose another family member again. He knew he couldn't have prevented the death of his cousin but it still affected him greatly.

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It had been a week after he left to train in the wild. It wasn't hard to find small animals, but the hard part was keeping your prize. Daedalus quickly learned the hard way that he was an easy source of food for the animals. It wasn't because he was weak, but that he was honing his skill, so while they couldn't hurt him they could steal his food.

It was this specific day that Daedalus had managed to kill one of the animals that had been stealing his food. While they fought, Daedalus realised it had very tough scales all over its body. This made it difficult but he did manage to kill it, by stabbing it through the eye and destroying its brain.

This had caused the others to be more cautious and it gave him time to eat. This small victory had made Daedalus feel proud, and he began working on his skills even more.