Broken Ability Part 1-1

“Wake up, son! It’s time to tend the field!”

I opened my eyes then shut them again against the bright early sun.

“Up, up, up!” Father said, tugging on my arm.

I groaned, “Pa, why have we got to get up so early?”

“Now, Letum, you know that the early bird catches the worm! Besides, we won’t finish our work before the heat of the day sets in unless we start now. Don’t want to catch heatstroke, do you?”

I groggily rose, reed mats crinkling underneath. I shrugged off the woolen blanket and made my way across the wide, single room to the table where our hearty breakfast waited.

“Great Goddess, Father, how can I eat all this?” I asked, gazing with wide eyes at the two slices of green meat nestled in a pile of scrambled eggs.

“Eat up now,” Father said, settling himself into a chair. His blue eyes assessed my sleepy face. I could tell by the way he wrung his hands he had news.

“You’re getting big, now son. Only twelve years and you can already work nearly as well as I!” he said, leaving his own food untouched. The meat sizzled on my plate and I cut into it eagerly, wolfing down the fatty texture.

“You’ve some type of news, haven’t you father?” I asked, tiredly. The light in his eyes from the single window of our hut shone brightly.

“I do, my boy! You know me well,” He said, scarred cheek distorting with his grin. I gazed up into his weathered face, stubble poking out from where he’d shaved a bushy beard clean and set off for Cyprus City several days ago.

“I was accepted into an expeditionary raid, my boy!” Father said, thumping the table in excitement.

I nearly choked on the egg I was swallowing, “Father! Into the unclaimed territory? That’s incredible!”
“Aye, son, it is. I didn’t think they’d take me, even now, but the recruiters say that my swordsmanship is much improved, and they could use my magiks for reconnaissance. I’m to be on the front, right near the leaders of the expedition!”

I sat in wonder, looking at my father as his ears began to glow, a sure sign he was ecstatic.

“Ah,” he said, grinning sheepishly, “I’ll need to calm down a bit and rest it as much as I can. I leave in three days’ time, lad.”

I stared, “Three days… isn’t that… a bit soon?”

Fathers glow died and a sad smile graced his rugged features, “It is, but I’ll teach you to get on best you can while I’m gone. I wouldn’t have accepted were it not for the grand opportunity! If I can manage to get in good with the leaders, I may become a regular with them. The gold we’ll get from such trips will change our lives, son!”
“Aren’t there some powerful monsters there, Father? The stories are… well, you’ve told me most of them.”

“Aye, son, but nothing your old pa can’t handle. Besides,” he said, sweeping his hand, “it’s not a deep dive. Only a short expedition to keep some of the pathways clear and maintain the cities hold. I should return in two weeks’ time. With that said, we’ll start training on some new things I’d like for you to work on while I’m gone.”

I perked up, “New things? What types of new things?” I asked excitedly.

Father smiled, “After we finish the fields, mind. You’ll soon see, now finish your breakfast."

…

 

The sun was crawling high over the sky when I arose from aching knees. Several acres lay neatly weeded and tended just behind the hut, extending south to the tree line. Shoots of green sprouted from every foot, a promise of a good harvest after the heavy rain season.

“Alright,” Father said, wiping the mud from his hands. I started excitedly towards the small barn that stood between the hut and fields. We pulled out our blades, his of heavy steel and mine solid wood, then stepped back into a worn dusty patch of yard.

“This,” Father said, brandishing his sword, “is the Altmera gail." Father held the heavy blade in a single calloused hand and spun it around, parrying an imaginary opponent then striking quickly.

“It combines a couple of the previous movements you learned,” he said as I already began imitating his swing.

“Good!” he laughed, “Of course, you’ll probably master it soon. Keep working on this and…”

He showed me a few more choice moves to practice, then coached me through combinations.

“Alright, here’s another one. Rainmans dance!” Father said, quickly twirling while stepping forward sharply and burying the sword in a small haystack.

I eagerly devoured the movements, flailing with my wooden sword as hard as my arms would allow me to.

“Ah, long day,” Father said, stretching his sword shoulder. “Your movements look sharp, just remember not to dip that left shoulder coming out of the Gail and you’ll get it,” he said.

“Father!” I said, pride welling in my chest as strength surged through me. The moves felt perfect with every swing and my body hummed with what I felt was pure energy.

I looked up to my father in the golden light of late afternoon, hours of practice having passed like the breeze. “Thank you, Father, for helping me to become strong.”

Father looked someplace over my head, then down and beamed. “Why… I’ll have dinner when you’re done practicing, son.” He clapped me on the shoulder and turned away, quickly wiping at his eyes. “You’re doing well.”

I slashed, thrust, and parried to my heart’s content, arms becoming sore and breath ragged before I realized that night had fully fallen. With effort I sheathed my practice blade and drug myself inside where my father sat at the table, reading a heavily lettered newsprint with an open text volume next to it. Lanternlight filled the chill dark with a steady glow, casting deep shadow around the room.  

“What’s that?” I asked, eagerly sitting down at my place where Father had a plate piled high.

“Oh, just a little research,” he said, idly flipping a yellowed page. “We’ve seen several of the monster species that will be in territories around the village. Those smaller creatures like skooka’s, gremloks, and bingmas I mean. But there are a few that live only in the territory where they’ve room to roam.”

I thought of Ms. Edgerton, an older woman who had been mauled by a Skooka, a several hundred pound, two-headed pig beast last year. “Are they strong?” I asked.

“Some are,” Father said, nodding, “But that’s why I’m doing my best to get the edge on them through this research. Eat now, son.”

I obeyed, my limbs becoming heavy as I ate, eyelids drooping before I’d finished.

The next day was much the same, except father offered me more guidance and trained with his sword alongside me the entire afternoon, light eventually fading into a faint glow over the horizon. A great wooden log father had set up as a practice dummy careened through the air as father spun and landed a square kick in it’s center.

“Woah!” I cried, in awe.

Father grinned, “You’re looking at some of the moves that got me accepted for this expedition, lad!”

Before I knew it father’s ears began to glow and he moved faster, the sword and his limbs a blur.

“HYAH!” father said finally, a final great thrust creating a glow of energy from his sword which arced several feet, burning the very air it soared through.

“WOW!” I cried, leaping to my feet from where I had sat entranced.

Father sheathed his sword and embraced me, grin splitting his face.

“I’ll make your mother proud if I fight them like that, won’t I boy?” he shouted.

I laughed against his chest, in awe of my father and how strong he felt in that moment. His arms were irons gripping me before he lifted me up, spinning me around like a babe.

“Just wait, son, we’ll get out of this farm, move to Cypress City, and get you the education your mother wanted!”

I slept that night with dreams of father standing victorious on a hill, shining with the golden sun behind him. I awoke the next morning at the first light, energy coursing through me. Father had just swung his legs over the side of his wooden bed stacked with mats, across the room from mine. I gazed over our old wooden table with the cracks and the stained stone floor, thinking about how much life might change.

“You’re up already?” Father asked, yawning. “At least we’ll make a good early start today. It’ll be important to watch carefully how I tend the cows, because for the next several weeks you’ll need to do just the same, alright? We need to get every drop of milk out to trade.”

“Yes, father,” I said, stepping out of bed and all traces of fatigue behind. That day I worked quickly, eager to figure out the best ways to go about all the chores and animal tending to make Father proud.

That afternoon Father mostly coached, only slowly going through his training progressions and taking breaks to meditate and focus his aura.

I trained furiously, pushing myself faster and faster, remembering all the small tips father had given me. I stumbled, exhausted, after nightfall landing  squarely on my ass, breathing hard. I gazed up at the stars as they appeared, feeling energy course through my limbs.

“Letum,” Father called softly from his seat on the haystack, “I will arise early before you awake tomorrow, my son. I’ll let you sleep but wake at first light. Tend the animals well and look for me after a fortnight passes.”

“Yes, father,” I said, the stars shining brightly and illuminating the worn creases on father’s face. His scratchy beard had quickly appeared over the past several days, close to his face and rugged.

“Letum, son,” Father said softly, little more than a whisper carried by the night breeze. “I am proud to be your father. I know you’re going to be an incredible warrior one day and show everyone how strong you are.”

I felt my eyes well quickly with tears of pride, so I ducked my head. I felt a hand on my shoulder a moment later.

“Lift your head son and be happy. I’ll bring some new clothes when I return so you may walk through the village with pride.”

“I am sorry, father,” I said, drying my eyes.

"There is no need to be. Let us rest now, that tomorrow may be kind to us."