Smoke and Iron-Legends of Silva-Book 1

Chapter 12-The Third Verse

Andreas

I have thought often about killing my father. How free the kingdom and I would be if I had the gall, the courage, to end his life. Except I don't, I still have hope for the man he once was. The man who taught me swordplay, the man who sang while my mother danced. A kind man that was soon driven to hidden grief and then a hungering revenge, from that fateful stormy night. The despair of it, rekindles the anger buried deep in my heart. Anger that strengthens my swing, as I punch the heavy leather bag. The heady feeling of the leather cracking against my cloth wrapped fists, the sound of my blows doing nothing to stop the memories that barrel through my head.

The roar of ocean waves, the creaking of the ship, and my mother's scream fight for dominance. That night was at first calm and quiet, we had just celebrated my parent's anniversary underneath a sky of midnight and silver. Then my memories become hazy as the calm became chaos, and the quiet replaced by cries of fury and gunfire. I had been snuggled up in the crow's nest when it all went to hell, the crashing waves woke me just in time for me to see my mother fall into the dark ocean and the tall figure that had shot her. The shadowed man sent fear down my small body. To my five year old eyes, he was a monster come to life with his smoking gun and dark gray cape that covered him from head to toe.

The sounds of cannon fire, tearing cloth and pained cries whipped past my ears. Explosions of flame casting shadow between the battling ships, one a Valdevian warship painted in black and white, and the other a sleek vessel that glowed like molten copper beneath the moon. Fear filled the pit of my stomach as the shadowed man turned toward the crows nest. I had ducked before he could see me and I stayed there until the next morning. It was only till later after one of the crew came to fetch me, that I learned what had happened in the night. With vacant eyes my father told me that an unknown pirate ship had attacked and an assassin had snuck on board in the chaos, and killed my mother.

After we arrived back in the city my whole world changed. Gone were the nighttime escapades with mother to festivals and inns. Gone were the warm halls and people I could trust and call friends. Now I was confined to the palace grounds at all hours, when I trained, ate, and slept under the ever stone like gazes of my guards. Even during my long lessons with an endless stream of tutors, I was watched. Everything I said and did was reported back to my father. Until the day I got the courage and a copy of Valdev's ancient laws and demanded my father to let me join the army, and then soon the Reapers. That was almost four years ago, and I'm not ready to give it up. Especially to him, my failures of last night come fresh and hot through my chest. My rage increases the amount of blows I now deal to the punching bag.

Swing, punch, repeat. Swing, punch, repeat. My blood pumps to the rhythm of my pounding fists. Sweat drips down my back and chest as I continue my brutal assault. My isolation wasn't the only thing that changed, he changed to. Soon he began to rule with an iron fist, arresting so-called traitors and cracking down on mages who were not indentured to the Merchant Guild or the palace. His demands for a larger army grew by the day, and the suffering of the people grew as well. In all this, I could do nothing. Nothing but watch. As everything I knew crumbled to dust, and was replaced by a cage of lies, secrets, and malicious games.

For now though I am free, and I will stay free. A thrill goes through my blood as my swings come faster and rougher. I add in a small bout of kicks as I go. The momentum comes to a fever pitch as I twist and spin my body, before delivering a bone crunching roundhouse kick to the hanging bag. The chains twist and shake from the force, the stones rumbling as the links snap and fall to the ground of the training room.

"Show off," I hear Lars scoff.

Panting with ragged breaths, I glance over at him across the torch lit room.