Testing

The boy stopped just short of Rikkard's throat. In his hand, a sharp rock was hairs away from slicing his throat. Panic settled in as he realized that the boy had nearly killed him. So close, yet he stopped? Why?

That was quickly answered by hooded figures stepping out of the trees around him. They didn't make the slightest sound as they circled the area and watched as the boys were locked in a deadly standoff.

The captain stepped forward from the crowd and removed their hood, revealing an older woman with hazel brown hair. Her green eyes hovered back and forth between the boys. Her pink lips tightened as she silently watched the boys wrestle.

Then suddenly, the little boy knocked Rikkard off. Before Rikkard could do anything, the little boy quickly rose to his feet, walked over to the captain, and calmly stood right beside her. Rikkard, who is now confused, gradually rose to his feet.

He pointed his sword at the little boy. "W-what the hell is going on?" Rikkard shakily asked.

"This was a test, Rikkard." The captain softly responded. Her eyes lowered as she sadly looked at the boy. "A test of morales, to be exact. We needed to see what you'd do you ever faced an enemy."

It was his turn to look from back and forth between the captain and the boy. Then the full weight of the words slowly sunk in. His sword arm dropped as his head faced the ground in shock. This was all a test. Rikkard brows lowered as rage overtook surprise.

"So you'd use a little kid for a test?" he angrily snapped, his sword now pointing at the captain. The others seemed to slightly tense up a bit but they didn't move nor draw their weapons.

The middle-aged captain didn't answer. In fact, she looked saddened by his accusation. Hesitantly, she lifted a black hand over the boy. Much to Rikkard's surprise, the little boy's features slowly faded to into dirt. His once pale skin became brown as once brown hair faded into leaves. Soon, it was as if someone had dumped a pile of dirty mud on the boy. Suddenly, cracks webbed out from the top of its leafy head. The boy, or what he assumed was a boy, crumbled into a pile of mud.

"The boy was never real. It's something I made out of my Potential Technique," The captain tiredly said, her voice hinting at a restrained emotion she refused to reveal.

Rikkard's jaw dropped in shock. The captain could do magic as well! The boy was never real! The boy was never…

With a lowered head, he slowly sheathed his sword.

"Did I fail?" Rikkard softly murmured to the captain.

The sad captain gave a small, reassuring smile. "That's up for you to decide. This isn't exactly a test that has a passing or failing grade."

She then pointed to one of the guards, who stepped forward behind Rikkard. "He'll take you to your sleeping quarters. Get some rest, you're going to need it in the morning. Everyone is dismissed."

The rest of the guards dispersed. One by one, they passed by Rikkard, each with a different look engraved on their faces. Some of them were neutral, others seemed disappointed. But, the worst one was when someone giggled. His failure was a joke to them.

Rikkard drudgley back towards the camp, a heavy feeling weighing down on his heart. He took a cold shower before returning to the tent, which sat near the edge of the encirclement, assigned to him. He slumped down on the bed and sorted through his raging thoughts as the captain's words echoed through his mind.

Did he fail? In an organization of killers and fighters, did he make the right call? If it's a Corrupted, he can kill it, no problem at all. The Corrupted can't be reasoned with and they can't be tamed. But another person?

He glanced at his black sword as it lay down against the wooden beam. How many people have died at the hand of this blade? How many of their lives were snuffed out because of bad circumstances?

The flaps of the tent ruffled as someone stepped inside. Rikkard lifted his head to the sight of Kalim. He quietly stared back at Rikkard. His lips slightly opened and quickly closed, the comforting words that he had found dying on the tongue.

"How are you feeling?" he finally asked. His unmoving eyes and dead tone gave nothing away, so Rikkard has a hard time telling if he's being serious or not.

"How do you think?" he snapped and instantly regretted it. Kalim didn't seem like the person to gloat about one's failures. It wasn't his fault that the test turned out like that. Or at least, he hoped not.

Kalim didn't seem to mind much. He gestured towards the bed, indicating he wanted to sit. Rikkard nodded and sat up as Kalim took a seat next to him. The smell of wet leaves and dried dirt clung to his cloak. His hood was gone, revealing his damp black braids that hung loose down his shoulders.

"At first, I was going to lecture you about your stance over the boy, but you seem so down about the whole thing that I changed my mind."

"Yeah… well, when you fail at something like that, you let me know. We can mope together."

"Did you think you failed?"

"Yeah, wasn't it obvious?"

"No, it wasn't. You fight when the need arises. That's good. However, you think your problem lies in finishing the fight." Kalim gave a long, hard look into Rikkard's eyes. "Do you consider yourself weak because you can't kill someone?"

"Yes… You make it look easy, Kalim," Rikkard admitted quickly.

Kalim frowned. "Because I have walked a different path than you. Killing is all I've ever known so when your hands are already stained in blood, it's easy to add more."

He gently, but firmly placed a hand on Rikkard's shoulder. "You don't have to walk that path. There's nothing wrong with sparing a life. But keep this in mind: not everyone will spare yours. It'll be up to you to decide whether your own life weighs more than your opponents. Does this make sense?"

"Somewhat, yeah."

Kalim gave a small nod and rose from the bed. "Good, then that's all I'll say for today. Make sure you get plenty of rest."

"I'll try."

"Oh, and Rikkard?" Kalim stopped at the entrance, a foot outside the tent. "Please don't hate the Captain. It pains her deeply to give out such a test, but it's mandatory for new apprentices."

Rikkard's brow rose, but he nodded. Kalim left, leaving something for Rikkard to ponder into his dreams.