In a world where everything seems perfectly logical and pragmatic. The thought of anything existing outside of the realm of what one already knows seems impractical.
That is how Melinda Morrison sees life.
The very life where she has shared nearly e...
"Have you decided to give up, brother?" I held my sword tightly against the metal of his own, struggling to keep my foot planted as Tychon smirked, his expression clearly noting that I was having difficulty matching his strength.
"No!" I grimaced as he continued pushing into me.
My feet were sliding in from underneath me. A few beads of sweat trickled from the crown of my head and the sides of my temple; I was clearly no match for my brother at the current moment.
"Use your divine stamina, Kiraz." He reminded me. I took a deep breath changing the pattern of my breath and mixing it with my mana energy. The feeling of being exhausted that had plagued my body from my brother terrorizing me with extensive swordsmanship techniques replenished me as if someone had placed an ice-cold bucket of water over my head.
I pushed my brother back enough for him to break the hold he had with me against the sword. He smiled. "Very good... you're learning." He didn't praise me much longer because he went right back into fighting mode, charging at me with the sword.
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The clinks of the metals against each other filled the field we were currently in at the moment.
Mother and Latona were watching from afar in the shade to fend off the harsh sun with some refreshments and music to keep them entertained while we practiced.
Brother has been working me exceptionally harder the older I've been getting. He's taken it upon himself to teach me the ways of our divine blood abilities. I definitely had a more stable gripping than I did when my powers were first coming in at a younger age. I could keep up will my brother for the most part so long as I remembered to use the right abilities at the right time.
Like this.
"Hold your defense, brother!" Tychon advised me.
I grunted as the brutality of his sword was evident. The way of moving fast and redundant could be overwhelming to an individual who was not accustomed to the Bellakian sword technique.
And tiring.
I gritted my teeth in an attempt to keep my focus and abilities aligned with my fighting but soon succumbed to defeat as it was clear my brother at his age, was the better fighter.
My sword flung into the air, swiveling a few times before landing with a clad thud beside my body where I had fallen back with a similar plop on the floor.
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