An Old Friend

Clang! Clang! Clang!

We began practicing swordsmanship every day from then on. Every sunrise brought fresh bruises, aching arms, and the sound of metal clashing like war drums.

Adrain and I teamed up, charging toward Drake with twin swords gleaming under the sunlight. A battle of steel and sweat erupted as our blades struck against his in a flurry of sparks and footwork.

Clang! Clang!The sound of our blades meeting echoed through the training grounds, ringing like a chorus of frustrated ambition.

We moved in sync, backs to back one moment, fanning out in a coordinated flurry the next. Countless hours spent drilling forms and combinations made us a perfect team.

"HAAAAAA!!" I yelled, slashing from the left with full force.

At the same time, Adrain came in from the right, stabbing with precise, rapid jabs.

But Drake was… Drake.A swordmaster who looked like he could take on ten of us with his eyes closed—and maybe he was doing that already.

He parried both our strikes with lazy grace, his sword dancing in flawless arcs.His eyes gleamed with playful malice, his feet barely shifting as he handled both of us like sparring dummies.

"Too slow! You're telegraphing your swings like it's a festival dance!" he barked, chuckling in between blocks.

Sweat poured down our brows. The heat pressed against us, the sun an unforgiving overseer. The clang of steel was soon replaced with heavy breathing.

Adrain and I paused, panting.We knew. We weren't landing a single hit.

We attacked again—desperate, reckless.

In response, Drake flicked his sword up, knocking mine into the air and sweeping Adrain's legs in one smooth move.

I fell on the grass with a thud, my sword clattering beside me.

Adrain landed on his back next to me, wheezing.

"Man, this sucks," I muttered, staring up at the sky. "Can't even land a scratch on him."

Adrain nodded. "Yeah. It's like fighting a magical statue. A really smug one."

Drake stood tall, grinning like a proud rooster.

"BWAAHAHAHAA! Look at you two!" he boomed. "You think you can take me down? I'm the swordmaster! The undefeated storm of steel! The lord of the training grounds! Worship me!"

He struck a ridiculous pose—sword raised, chest puffed, a single leaf blowing dramatically past him.

Adrain and I exchanged deadpan glances.

"…Is he serious?" I mouthed.

Adrain shrugged. "Hard to tell. He might be having another one of those 'glory flashbacks.'"

Drake raised a finger like a philosopher on a mountaintop. "If you two kneel and chant 'Oh great swordmaster,' ten times a day, you might—just might—become half as decent as me in a decade or two."

I pushed myself up and whispered to Adrain, "We need to put him out of his misery."

Adrain chuckled. "Agreed, brother. Let's end this."

Drake, still in his pose, blinked. "HEY! I heard that!"

We all broke into laughter.

Even Drake.

"Pffft—AHAHAHA!" Adrain fell over again, this time from laughing.

Just then, a voice called from a distance.

"Drake!!"

We turned.

A tall man with jet-black hair and a well-kept beard walked toward us. His piercing silver eyes glinted in the late afternoon light. Broad-shouldered, lean, with a sharp jawline that made him look like he walked out of a hero's tale.

He smiled faintly. "It's been a while."

Drake's grin widened. "Gideon! You dog!"

They clasped forearms, then pulled each other into a brotherly hug.

"I missed you, man," Drake said, actually looking a little emotional.

"Me too," Gideon replied.

Adrain blinked. "Uh… what are they?"

I raised a brow. "Gross," I muttered, watching the wholesome reunion like it was a crime.

I finally asked, "Who is he, Gramps?"

Drake turned, beaming. "This is Gideon. An old comrade. We've cleared more dungeons together than you've done pushups. Smart, strong, and my partner in crime—except the crimes were legal. Mostly."

Gideon smiled. "Nice to meet you boys."

Adrain and I bowed slightly. "Nice to meet you, Sir Gideon."

"Ahh, drop the 'sir.' I'm not that old," he laughed. "Drake's training you two, huh? Brave kids."

I smirked. "Yeah. He's… eccentric."

"Eccentric?" Drake muttered. "I'm legendary."

"You're legendary for nearly burning the kitchen yesterday," I shot back.

"One time!" Drake huffed.

Just then, someone else appeared.

A boy stepped out from behind Gideon. Dark yellow hair. Black eyes. Smug expression so thick it could be bottled and sold as perfume.

"You two were pathetic," the boy said, arms crossed. "I've seen squirrels fight with more coordination."

Adrain raised an eyebrow. "And you are…?"

The boy puffed his chest. "Julian Ivoryate. Member of the Kaelenor Estate. Noble blood and all that."

Gideon cleared his throat. "Julian, don't be rude."

"He started it," Julian said, pointing at me. "Look at him. He's a mess."

I dusted off my clothes, unimpressed. "We just trained, genius."

Julian sniffed. "Still. If I were training with the great Drake, I'd at least try to look less useless."

I yawned. "Cool. Let's go, Adrain."

"Right, brother."

We turned our backs and walked off.

"Hey! How dare you ignore me!?" Julian shouted.

We didn't stop.

A soft fwip hit the ground behind us.

A white glove.

"I challenge you to a duel!" Julian declared. "You will face me—and you have no choice!"

I turned slowly. "…Huh? Why?"

Julian puffed up like a cat in the rain. "For your insolence! Ignoring royalty! You should kneel before me!"

"I have more important things to do than indulge in your tantrums," I replied. "Like napping."

"You coward!" he shouted. "Afraid to face me like a man?"

I shrugged. "Not afraid. Just not interested."

Julian narrowed his eyes. "Makes sense. You learned from a coward, after all."

My steps stopped.

Adrain froze too.

Drake looked up, confused.

Gideon's face darkened. "Julian. Take that back. That was—"

"What did you say?" I asked, my tone flat.

Julian smirked. "Coward master. Coward student. Fits, doesn't it?"

Gideon stepped forward. "Julian!!"

But I raised a hand to stop him.

I turned fully.

"You want a duel?" I asked, my voice colder than the northern winds.

"Fine," I said. "I'll give You one."