Surprise, Surprise: He Sucks with a Sword

Rikkard fell hard against the ground. His sword lay a few feet away from him. Standing over him was Kalim, his curved sword drawn towards Rikkard's neck. Rikkard glared at his attacker, who returned the same annoying glare.

"That makes 10 wins in a row," Kalim stated as pulled his sword away. "For someone of your age, I'd expect a little more skill."

"And I'd expect more mercy from my teacher…" Rikkard mumbled under his breath as he slowly got up.

He wanted to get better with the sword so he had asked Kalim to help. What he wasn't ready for was the fact that Kalim was very good with swords and very much destroyed Rikkard. Which is all they've been doing for the last couple of days as they worked to regroup with Kalim.

Though, to be honest, he doesn't know how long his back will last at this rate. You can only fall so many times before you need to call it quits.

"Are you even sure that you want to use the sword? Wouldn't you want to use something like a spear or daggers?" Kalim asked.

"No. I need to get better with the sword. This is- It's the last thing Graves handed me. I need to know how to use it properly. I saw him lob the head off a Corrupter like it was nothing and I couldn't even get past its fur. That's the level of skill I need to reach." Rikkard explained.

"Suit yourself. Want to go again?" Kalim asked, his voice oozing with boredom.

"Yup," Rikkard said as he grabbed his fallen sword. "I think I got your rhythm down."

"Knowing the music and playing the music are completely different things." Kalim retorted as he walked a few feet away, playing and swinging his sword. He turned around with his weapon lowered. "Tell me, Rikkard: Do you know how to play the music?"

Rikkard's response was charging at him with a powerful thrust. Kalim blocked the attack easily. The clash of metal ringed out across the open field and light reflected off Kalim's yellow blade as he parried the attack towards the ground. It hit the dirt with a metallic thud.

Hoping to catch Kalim off guard, Rikkard aimed a horizontal slash at Kalim, but he was expecting that. He took another step away, dodging the attack by hairs. The moment the attack whiffed, Kalim made a downward slash. Rikkard had barely raised his weapon as the attack collided with his blade.

But Kalim was on the offensive now. Placing his other hand on the blade, he shoved Rikkard back, causing him to stumble. Quickly and Fluidly, Kalim made an elegant side-slash aimed at the ribs. Luckily, Rikkard managed to block the attack, but he wasn't ready for the kick that came afterward. The wind was knocked out of him as he landed on his back. The grass cushioned his fall somewhat, but there was no time to rest.

Kalim struck like a snake. There was a blur of yellow as Rikkard rolled out of the way. As he got to his feet, he watched as Kalim's fast attack impaled a patch of crushed grass, where Rikkard was only seconds earlier. Rikkard readied his sword once more. Staring coldly in his direction, Kalim slowly lifted his weapon.

Something changed in Kalim's stand. He closed his legs and let his sword hang loosely by his side. Then he seemed to fall forward. And for a brief moment, Rikkard thought he was going to pass out. What happened next took place in only a matter of seconds:

As Kalim fell towards the ground, he launched his sword forward. It spun through the air at lightning speeds. Caught completely off guard, Rikkard attempted to block the attack. When it connected with his sword, it knocked his blade upwards. Not enough to lose the blade, but enough that Rikkard was completely open. Panicking, he quickly returned to his defensive guard.

However, Kalim was nowhere to be seen. He had completely vanished from view. For a second, Rikkard frowned in confusion before he suddenly felt something cold pressed against his throat. He froze. What? When did he get behind me?

"Simply really," Kalim responded, almost like he could hear his thoughts. "You were so focused on my weapon, I figured, 'Why not give to him?'." He pressed the sword deeper into his neck. "Do you see where you messed up?"

"Kind of?"

Kalim sighed and removed the arming sword from the neck. "It's fine to focus on my weapon. But if you're only worried about the weapon and not the person wielding it, you'll die." He narrowed his eyes. "I bet you forgot I use 2 weapons, didn't you?"

"Yeah… I did. But that's only because you never use the other one!" Rikkard complained as rubbed his neck. He could almost still feel the cold blade against his neck.

"The day I need to use 2 swords against you is still very far away. Your other problem is that you're trying to close the distance too much. You have a sword. You don't need to hug the opponent to attack them. Keep it at arms reach, got it?"

"Yes sir," Rikkard grumbled. He sheathed his sword and dragged himself to where they had set up camp. He grabbed a towel and began to wipe the sweat off his body. Kalim joined him shortly afterward. Resting on a rock, he grabbed a compass hanging from a tree, opened it, and gave a long stare at it.

"Hey, Kal- sir. Do you know where we're going?" Rikkard asked.

"You can drop the sir. Just call me Kalim. And our destination is classified. I can only tell you that we'll be there soon," He snapped the compass shut and stood up. "Of course, soon could mean a couple of hours or a few days. You'll know when we've arrived. Get some rest. You're going to need it."

However, he seemed to stare at Rikkard for a moment, his eyes searching the boy's face for something he couldn't find. Even in the light of a cloudless sky, his eyes were dark and distant.

"Is there something wrong?" Rikkard asked.

Kalim's lips parted like he wanted to ask something but decided against it. "…It's nothing," he responded, and then he left to patrol the area for the day.

==

They traveled northeast down a dirt road for a few days, taking them to their mysterious location. It was scorching hot and his clothes were drenched. But for once in his life, he didn't mind the heat. He needed a distraction to help with the bruises that had formed on his back. Plus, this was the perfect opportunity to check out the sights and smells of places that he's never been to before.

It was a strange sensation. He'd never seen anything quite like it. Trees, twice the size of anything he saw in the village, loomed over him. Animals of all sizes scurried away at the sound of the gravel that crunched under his heels. The breeze twinkled along his skin, almost like a whisper of freedom.

He was so caught up in the scenery that he'd almost ran headfirst into Kalim. Confused, he glanced ahead of him and understood why.

It was a group of armed men. And they didn't look friendly in the slightest. Their clothes were ragged and covered in dirt. The weapons they carried looked dull, rusted, and broken, adding a tinge of dread about their hidden motives. Branches snapped and grass rustled behind them, signaling that were surrounded. Rikkard placed a hand on his sword.

"Kalim," Rikkard hissed under his breath, low enough that the bandits couldn't hear it. With the men in front, it was already 3 to 1. Just the thought of the others behind him made sweat run down his neck and the grip of his sword clammy.

If Kalim hear him, he gave no response. Instead, he glared at the men, particularly, the one with an eye patch. The one-eyed man grinned back, revealing his yellow-painted teeth. He took a step forward and pointed his spear at Kalim.

"You there! You seem to be the one in charge, so you know how this goes. Drops your things and no one gets hurt," eye-patched sneered. The other bandits readied their weapons. Behind them, there was the sound of metal as it slid out of its scabbard.

"Kalim. What's the plan?" Rikkard asked in a louder whisper, his voice almost cracking at the pitch.

Once again, Kalim didn't answer. He stared at the men for a moment before grabbing something out of his pocket and tossing it toward their leader. The bandit caught it with one hand and inspected it. His eyes widened and his face paled as he realized what was in his hand. Like it was made of fire, he dropped it quickly. It landed on the ground with little sound. Curious, Rikkard stared at the object.

It was the compass that Kalim was always checking. But as far as he could tell, it looked like an ordinary, black compass. He squinted before he saw what scared the bandit to his bones. It was the symbol on the top compass. It was that of a dragon looking towards the side with a sword placed behind it, positioned in a way that it appeared to stab it. The symbol of the Order.

"And I assume you know what 'that' means. Let us pass or this will be the last time you breathe in this world," Kalim threatened in a calm but cold manner.

"Y-you're an executioner. Kill 'em! Kill 'em both!" the bandit leader squealed at the rest of his men. Although they hesitated to fight, they seemed to fear their leader even more so. They charged ahead, screaming at the top of their lungs as they did so.

Closing his eyes, Kalim pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Rikkard, hold off the ones behind us for a bit while I deal with the others," Raising his head, he drew his curved sword and muttered to himself, "Why must they always choose the suicidal option?", before leaping towards his opponents.