Memories of The Past (Part 2)

"And what about your opinion?"

Qadir chimed in. His voice appeared to be stern but empathetic.

Harold was baffled for a while. "What is it with you?"

"Why is it important? I just needed to train with you for a month and nothing more."

"Don't get us wrong. It's the same thing for us. We're not here to befriend you or what."

Qadir kept his composed stature as he continued approaching them.

"You!"

Harold wanted to punch him, but he couldn't.

"You asked Caedman why he hasn't changed his moves. Then why don't you? Then why can't you win over Caedman?"

Keeping his diplomacy, Qadir waited for Harold to answer. Harold avoided Qadir's eyes and turned around.

"Do you still want to continue training for today?"

"…"

"If you want to prove you're stronger than us and we aren't worthy of your time and strength, then make sure you know what you want."

Harold struggled to hide his emotions and ran away from the training ground.

"Aren't you being harsh?"

"Huh?"

"Even with those simple words but having that evident aura of yours, aren't you exuding evident terror to that guy?"

"You saw it, right? He didn't even budge in my words. I mean, he still went ahead and didn't try to defy his emotions."

"We can say we now understand why Father let us train 'with' him."

"I guess I have to be more patient until he realizes what you want to teach him."

Caedman scratched his head.

"But I hope he could learn things from us and realize them earlier so I could also at least spar with him."

Qadir, ruffling his hair, suddenly shifted from being serious to being hopeful and active.

"Do you think, we can just be franker to him and don't beat around the bush too much?"

Qadir held Caedman's shoulders and shook him.

"Do you really want to fight him that much? Where's the 'we'll try to convince him' concept now?"

"..."

Qadir showed a puppy face to Caedman.

"Stop it! You're giving me a cringe."

"You'll end up sparring with him earlier, don't worry. He's strong—"

Caedman was interrupted by the excited Qadir.

"I know right? I saw how he parried your attacks."

"Maybe if he doesn't let his emotions, especially his arrogance, eat him—he'll even become stronger than you."

The following days, the three men spent hours in the training ground. Caedman spars with Harold, same routine, same executions, for almost a week. Since he's not winning and got tired of the same routine, he became more irritated and aggressive.

"What do you think of me? You are supposed to train me, teach me. But why do we always keep on doing the same things?"

Harold was exasperated.

"It's because you keep on doing the same things. You keep on doing your moves without studying them. How can you even understand my attacks and defenses if you can't even understand your goal in this spar in the first place?"

"I should be winning!"

Harold disheveled his hair with both hands, falling on his knees, and dropping his training sword.

"It's not because you're a big shot, you should win. And the real goal of this sparring and all the sparring we did and we'll be doing, is for you to study your and your opponent's skills and techniques. Didn't you really get that?"

Harold stopped in grumbling and realized something.

"Those… were the exact things my master told me."

He looked up at Caedman and knitted his brows. As if Caedman didn't hear anything, he continued with an insistent voice.

"You have only started getting interested in swords not too long ago and began training for three months. Don't expect too much. It's not a game we're playing here."

"I am not playing!"

Harold roared.

"So am I! We might have different goals here but you have to understand… being the Capital's Special Soldier won't mean anything if you can't even handle yourself. Don't you dare try to tarnish the honor of the Capital's Special Soldiers."

"Caedman! That's enough."

Qadir sternly intercepted.

"You have already been fed with one of the main reasons why we do this training. We hope you have understood that. Second, we are here not to train you. We are here to train 'with' you. I told you this not to feed more of your immodesty but to let you know that we are getting unfair treatment since we are teaching you with what you should know but we aren't getting anything better from you."

"You get that, Mr. Big Shot?"

Caedman retorted.

"Don't call me that! You don't know anything!"

"And third… we wanted you to understand that the world isn't everything about you or anybody else."

"…"

"Do you get that or do you still need me to elaborate it for you?"

Silence overwhelmed the training ground. Harold stood up with his head drooping. They waited for another while and Harold spoke up.

"I… I'm sorry."

Harold didn't expect himself to be shrouded with tremor that moment. Tears ran down his face and his chest was tightening and gasping for breath.

The two, receiving an apology from the guy whose haughtiness is reaching the upper realm, fell on the ground simultaneously. Their faces were pale and in total perplexity.

"Sorry… we indeed hoped you'll understand us but we didn't anticipate you apologizing this way."

Caedman uttered.

Harold sniffled and his lips are trembling. He tried to hold back and bit his lower lip. Even he couldn't understand why did he cry in front of them. He felt his body burning and wiped his face… but the tears kept on gushing onto his face.

Sniff… sniff…

"I am sorry… I didn't even understand myself. I just wanted my father to look at me like before."

Before he could even sniff another breath, Qadir and Caedman were already standing in front of him, reaching for his hands.

"And now we're talking, Mr.Big Shot!"

Qadir remarked, smiling jovially. Harold looked up at them confounded.

"The sun will set in another hour or two. We shall head back for now."

Qadir tapped Harold's shoulder then strangling Ceadman, they went ahead of Harold.

"Hey! Don't even tell anyone about this."

Harold shrieked out of embarrassment. Qadir waved naturally while Caedman was flapping his hands as he was kept strangled and tugged. Qadir grinned secretly as he turned back.

"Finally."

Harold stayed at the training ground and waited for the sun to set. He smiled then chortled. He let himself collapsed on the ground. Lying down, he extended his arms sidewards and his feet widely spread.

"I didn't expect this is how it feels… to be free once again."

After a moment, he stood up and grabbed his training sword. He swung it just like how they did in the practice, how he started with his interest in swords, how he was taught by his master, and he swung it just like his first sword guided by his father.

It's weird as he thinks he couldn't remove the smile on his face. While he thinks about this as he swings his sword, there's someone else who can't control his mixed emotions who watches him from above. His father, Emir.

Emir's affectionate smile while tearing up was plastered on his face as he watches Harold train unconfined lighthearted, and elated.

***

More than a week had passed. Gradually, there are visible changes in Harold's movements and even in Caedman's. It was a beautiful day to start the training. An hour after the scheduled breakfast in the mansion, Harold went straight to the training ground.

"…"

Upon reaching the porch before the ground, he accidentally dropped his training sword and started to quiver. Instead of Qadir and Caedman waiting for him, there was someone else who patiently waited for him.

"Fa… Father?"

He mumbled on his mind. He picked up his sword; went on to meet his father, and greeted him.

"Good… morning… Father."

Harold spoke brokenly. Seeing his father after more than a week and worst, after being insolent towards him.

"Harold."

"Where are Qadir and Caedman?"

Harold was about to ask why his father was there instead of Qadir and Caedman but it's impertinent of him to do that. He knew he and his father are still not on good terms and he doesn't want to disappoint his father more.

"I let them rest for today. How is your training with them going on?"

Harold was startled by the question. It was a long time since he asked him about himself or about his activities.

"It was fine."

Harold stared at his father like he never did before. He remembered how his father used to talk to him and tell him stories about their lineage. His father, a dependable and hard-working man, humble and helpful, a good person, and a smart one. His father, whose hair started to grow grey because of too much work even if he's still in his early forty's; yet, exudes a dashing, charismatic, and loveable personality.

"I missed him… a lot."

Harold drooped his head so his father won't notice. He felt his body is burning, and he's about to cry. But he has to hold it in.

"Harold…"

Harold still can't figure out why his father was there. He's wearing training attire and gloves and not his suit; he's getting a training sword and not a pen.

"I will be training you today."