Capítulo 24: Chapter 24
Swaths of multicoloured mists passed him by as Alvar drifted through the emptiness of his mind like a corpse on water until it sank. For Alvar the mists he was currently in had shortly pulled at him, dragging him further into them, the crushing pain over seeing his uncle die right in front of him giving the mists a point to stick their claws into.
While he was losing himself in the endless ocean of everchanging clouds a soft voice, soothing and calming called him back and on instinct alone he took the offered hand and was pulled back, the pain in his heart lightening the further he ascended while the grip of the mists on his pain loosened with every passing moment until without any notice from the soothing voice he was leaving the mists behind him and only calming darkness took him.
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With a muddled mind Alvar opened his eyes to the dawning light of the day, his gaze though never strayed further then the ceiling of his room as the memories of that fateful night came back to him which caused Alvar to swallow down a new bout of sadness that threatened to overwhelm him.
Taking a steadying breath Alvar tried to focus on other things, though the scene he had witnessed never leaving the back of his mind completely, where it remained and sometimes poked a needle into his façade of acting normally and composed.
Standing up Alvar walked over to the nearby basin and splashed some water onto his face to clean it of the remaining tear tracks that had dried up on his cheeks, refreshing him in the process.
After drying of his face with a piece of fabric Alvar went into the kitchen and made himself some breakfast, his every action done in complete silence and with practised ease of having done it since he could remember.
Leaving his empty bowl behind Alvar left towards the training field to burry his mind in something, anything really, so that he would not be haunted by all the lifeless bodies he had seen last night, nor the face of his uncle as he was frozen to death by that cunt of a son of Jormag.
His arrival at the training grounds was taken notice of by Sjorn, though his instructor must've picked up on his empty eyes and blank face, which caused said man to order Alvar to occupy himself with dummy training, after which the man disappeared from Alvars vision.
Not wasting any time Alvar unsheathed his sword and began to swing at the wooden dummy before him. At first his swings were slow and without much power but the longer Alvar swung at the dummy the more the wooden puppet took on the appearance of the man that had frozen his uncle to death, causing at first a spike of pain in his chest which soon turned into fury until only the loud crashing of metal onto wood was heard echoing over the training grounds.
Anger. Blazing hot, like an uncontrolled flame or a flood that had broken a dam, was causing Alvar to swing with abandon until any form was forgotten and he simply tried his hardest to destroy the puppet before him, wishing nothing more then the puppet to be the man that had taken his uncle away from him!
After a while all the anger Alvar had felt though had drained away and only sorrow and pain remained. An empty hole that swallowed any positive thoughts that dared to come to life in his mind in order to take Alvar away from all the pain.
With a thud Alvar dropped his sword, falling onto his knees besides it, and finally for the first time since the night he had seen his uncle murdered broke down in tears, at least happy that nobody was witness to his suffering.
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"What happened to Alvar? He was completely besides him when he arrived at the training grounds 20 minutes ago!" Sjorn asked after he had entered the home of Alvars family who went about their morning ritual with practised ease. Though Sjorn could see the rings under the old couples eyes, telling him that something rather big must have happened to the family.
"Do you remember the group of hunters that went out a week or so ago?" Alvars grandfather asked Sjorn while handing the instructor a mug of hot tea which the man took without comment though at the man's question he nodded, signalling that he had heard of them.
"Our son, Alvars uncle, was one of the hunters. Two days ago, they were attacked by the sons in the middle of the night while outside in the far north. None survived." Alvars grandfather said after which he turned around, presenting his back to Sjorn who had his eyes widen at the news, before he walked back to his chair were in he sat down, his eyes wandering back to the flames of the bonfire.
"I-I am sorry for your loss…How do you know about this though if there were no survivors?" Sjorn asked with a blank face the man had developed after his time as a soldier and the many men and women he had seen die over the years, possibly as a way to deal with such news in his own way.
"Our daughter, Alvars mother, when she was alive was a Havroune that awakened her ability to traverse the mists rather early in her life, on accident. Alvar seemingly inherited her gift. Through it he witnessed the whole fight and subsequently saw everything." Alvars grandmother replied this time instead of her husband who was still gazing into the flickering fire with a forlorn expression while his wife was standing in the kitchen where she prepared some kind of food, possible lunch or dinner.
"He saw everything? I see. Thank you for telling me this. I'll see what I can do about it. Maybe some of my experiences in dealing with such matters will help the lad…" Sjorn spoke in thought.
"How is Alvar's training coming along by the way? We never really got to ask you." Alvars grandmother asked Sjorn who brought his wandering mind back towards the old woman that had asked him a second ago.
"Alvar is…something else. He is gifted in combat and has yet to fail at a task I give him. He picks up what I try to teach him with a motivation I have rarely seen in a student so young. When it comes to tactics of warfare he could certainly improve but as he is still rather young I don't think that is much of a surprise. Most students in their younger days have a hard time to concentrate on these things. He will learn with time, don't worry. Truly, you can be proud of him. You raised a good lad." Sjorn spoke in a clear voice after sorting his thoughts into the right order for a little bit.
His words seemed to brighten the faces of the old couple for a little bit as they indeed felt pride at the boy they had tried to raise to the best of their abilities after their daughter had left them so early in her life.
"Thank you, instructor. We are happy to hear that he is doing so well. Should there ever be anything in Alvar's education we could help with, please do not hesitate to come to us. We would be happy to." Alvars grandmother spoke with a smile while her husband nodded in consent to which Sjorn smiled back in reply after which he bowed lightly and left. He had a student to train after all and he would be damned if he couldn't pass down some wisdom to the lad when he himself had been in a similar position before!
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bobbarker12
bobbarker12 Hope the chapter came out alright.
If you have comments or questions please don't hesitate to leave them down below as I'm always grateful for feedback :-)
Capítulo 25: Chapter 25
On his way back to the training ground Sjorn was mulling over what Alvar's grandparents had told him and how he was going to breach the topic with the lad.
Lost in his thoughts the man soon arrived at the training ground and came upon the sight of his student slashing away wildly at the wooden dummy. At least he was doing something with all the emotions that must be rampaging in the lads heart right about now.
"It's alright if you want to vent but that doesn't mean you should lose your form while doing so! Do you think an enemy will care about your emotions so long as they aren't a hindrance to him ramming a sword into your guts? Come on lad, position!" Sjorn spoke as he came to a standstill next to the heavily panting Alvar who at first wasn't quite sure what his instructor meant as his head was still muddled to some degree but none the less he complied without any protest and began swinging at the dummy once again.
Meanwhile Sjorn had walked over to a nearby tree where he sat down, crossing his arms before his chest.
"You know, when I was 22 years old I went onto my first campaign outside of Hoelbrak. We were sent out to deliver a message to the Charr who have a garrison not too far from our capital, in which our scouts informed them that a raid was imminent onto their small garrison. Before we could reach there though the attack had already commenced and so our commander at the time decided promptly that we would come to the Charrs assistance. A foolish decision, now that I think back on it, as we didn't know anything after arriving at the scene." Sjorn spoke, his eyes resting on the ferociously swinging Alvar, though his gaze seemed to look far away into the past.
"We didn't know how long the attack had been going for, we didn't know the enemies numbers, nor our allies numbers. We walked into a death trap, literally." Sjorn's words seemed to have some effect on Alvar as he still swung at the dummy but regardless of that the story must have roused his curiosity, as the lad was throwing glances towards his instructor from time to time while the man continued to talk.
"At the time I was still a young lad, barely having finished my tutelage as a warrior. I was not as green as some man who holds a sword for the first time of course but no matter the training you receive, you can only barely prepare someone for their first real battle when it's about life or death…" That statement seemed to rip Alvar out of his emotional state as his mind began to work properly again.
"Why is that? I mean can't you come at a trainee with the intent to kill? What's the difference?" Alvar asked with a rugged breath, shortly stopping his practise, until he began swinging again.
"Heh, you would think so, wouldn't you? Yes, you can come at your apprentice with the intent to kill but said apprentice will always know at the back of his mind that you will not truly want to cause harm, of course there are exceptions. For example if you barely know your instructor. It is different on the battlefield because you have no security in the form of an instructor, nobody to watch your back all the time and men at your front that truly wish to ram a spear into your heart! It is difficult to explain but once you are in such a situation you will understand." Sjorn spoke with a small, sad smile.
At his words Alvar began to think about the possible differences that a true battlefield and a training ground could pose and came to the conclusion that Sjorn may be right, in some points at least. You could always argue that any place could become a battle field, provided a true enemy on it of course, but none the less his instructor's point held true.
"Once we stormed the backlines of Jormag's troops our formation quickly scattered into the uncontrolled mess that a battlefield usually is. Men dying left and right, the blood soaking the soles of your feet while the adrenaline is pumping through your veins until everything around you begins to disappear behind a slight veil of red, only killing more and more being on your mind in order to survive. That's where I witnessed friends, I had been training for years with, die one by one, fuelling my rage until only a few of us remained. We later found out that the garrison had never stood a chance at surviving as Jormag had sent his champion and some of his best troops to take care of the garrison as he wanted to stifle a possible pact between Norn and Charr in the bud at all costs, which he succeeded in." Sjorn narrated.
His instructor's words resonated curiously with Alvars vision and he couldn't help but wonder how Sjorn must have felt that day. Maybe similar to himself right now? "How did you escape? You said you were outnumbered. Did the enemy not chase you down?" Alvar asked, the dummy standing silently at his side as Alvar's attention was now fully on his instructor.
"Luck I suppose. Only a few of us managed to escape though at a steep price as we could see and hear our comrades die while we fled into the hills. Did they send troops after us? Possible. We were rushing back towards Hoelbrak as fast as we could to warn our people of a possible invasion and not too soon as we later would find out. Have you ever heard of the long night?" Sjorn asked his student back while his gaze returned back into the present, now resting on his trainee fully.
"Only in passing. So Jormag's troops really attacked Hoelbrak directly then? How did we survive?" Alvar asked while sitting himself down opposite of Sjorn, wiping his sweat covered face clean with his sleeve all the while.
"Yes, they did attack us the following night after our return. We had barely managed to rack up our defences in the short period of time given to us. That night the moon was covered by thick clouds and icy winds rained down onto our heads, which was the cover Jormag's troops used to charge at our gates. Under sounds of rolling thunder and cracking like moving glaciers his troops consisting of corrupted Norn, known to you as Sons of Jormag, and beings made out of purely corrupted ice barrelled into our defences. We held strong but a few men and constructs made of ice managed to enter our home. Before we could act in the chaos of battle these beings had begun to kill or corrupt our people. Many died that night and many went missing after Jormag had stretched out his mind and began to corrupt some of our people which caused them to either join him or go insane. You pick for yourself which option appeals to you more. That night, due to the feeling of never seeing the sunlight again, was baptised 'the long night', and rightly so." Sjorn narrated after which Alvar sat opposite his instructor in silence.
"When was this night? I've never been told before." Alvar asked after a few minutes of contemplative silence.
At first Alvar thought his instructor was not going to answer as the man seemed to debate whether or not to tell his trainee but in the end he seemingly decided that Alvar would find out sooner or later anyway so there was no harm in telling the lad.
"today is the third day in the beginning of May. 12 years and two days ago the long night took place. On your birthday, Alvar." Sjorn said in a solemn tone which in turn caused Alvar's eyes to widen in surprise.
It seems his birthday was cursed somehow. His mother first and now his uncle. Alvar couldn't help himself but wonder, was that a coincidence or was there more to it? He truly hoped there wasn't…
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bobbarker12
bobbarker12
Didn't come out as good as I had wished but I still hope you enjoyed the chapter :-)
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