Dragon Prince: Warrior (Re-Write)

Chapter Six: A New Weapon

The next day, Callum was in a damp mood.
Probably because he had another sword fighting session with Soren. Twice, the poor prince fell flat on his back. This time, Callum didn't bother getting up. Sierra and Ezran looked over him, their silhouettes blocking half of the sun.
"You think he's dead?" Ezran asked.
"It's probably his new combat move: Playing Possum." Sierra gently nudged him playfully.
"Nobody can hit you if they think you're already dead," Callum said, pointing a finger towards the sky and flopped it on his stomach. Sierra and Ezran helped him get back up.
"If you hate this so much why don't you just tell your dad?" Sierra said.
"I would, but this was his idea and I don't want to hurt his feelings. You know, he and my mom used to spar in this very spot," Callum said, reminiscing about how he would occasionally watch his parents go head to head with each other. "But I'm terrible when it comes to combat."
Sierra's expression softened as she gazed at him. "If swords aren't working for ya then why not choose a different weapon of combat. How about archery?"
"Tried that, didn't end well." Callum winced, looking uneasy. "You do not want to know the whole story."
"You really don't," Ezran said in a dry tone while slowly shaking his head with a look of warning in his eyes.
"Okay, then what about..." Sierra's attention was drawn to a couple of guards practicing a few feet away. One was wielding a fake sword while the other was using a bow staff. Sierra studied the movements of the guard as he swung his staff, the way his hands and fingers moved, the speed and flexibility without even looking. That was when it struck her.
Sierra hurried to the other guards and tapped the mentioned soldier's shoulder. "Excuse me, you wouldn't happen to have an extra one of those staff thingies I could borrow?"
"Of course." The guard kindly handed her another staff. "Here you are, Miss."
"Thanks." Sierra carried the bow staff and showed it to Callum. "Here. It's a bo-staff." She gave it to her brother. "Give this a try. If you don't like it, then we'll try something else."
"No pressure?" Callum held the staff carefully.
"None at all." Sierra's answer, coupled with her understanding eyes, surprised Callum. Her un-shaking faith in what he was capable of wasn't something he was used to. Ezran nodded encouragingly while Bait hid behind the younger prince.
Callum took in a deep breath and tried to play around with the staff as he would his pencil. He struggled at first, dropping the stick at his first try. Sierra didn't laugh, she smiled and nodded for him to pick it up and try again. The staff was a lot longer and thicker than his pencil, but also lighter than even his wooden practice sword.
When Callum dropped the staff again he groaned in humiliation, shaking his head and hiding his face with his hand. "See, I'm hopeless."
"Try again." Sierra's voice was both stern and gentle at the same time. Sierra picked up the staff, took Callum's hand, and looked him straight in the eye. "You are not hopeless, Prince Callum." She put the staff in his hand again and closing his fingers around it. "You've got this."
Callum's eyes lingered where she just touched him and tightened his grip on the staff. Sierra gave him an encouraging nod and Callum took a deep breath. From his window, King Harrow observed curiously as Callum held up the staff.
Callum tightened his grip on the staff, taking in a deep breath. The wind picked up and Callum spun the staff once. He felt the wind currents brush against his face, sweeping his hair and the tail of his scarf. He spun the staff again, paying close attention to how the wind spun around behind the ends of the stick. Following where the wind was blowing, Callum spun the stick with one hand, taking Sierra's advice and seeing the stick as a larger pencil. With that mindset, he felt more in control of the staff.
He felt the wind all around him, from the breeze sweeping into the courtyard to the air in his lungs. It was just like when he danced for the first time. There was a freezing sensation when it came to his movements. Maybe he could apply those movements to the staff? Worth a try.
Callum moved the stick from one hand to the other, moving his body in synchronization with the wind. His feet felt as lighter than air. The wind whistled in his ear and he let himself go. He tossed the stick over his head and caught it perfectly in his hand. Callum gave a triumphant laugh as he stood there with his outstretched hand, holding the staff into the sky.
From the balcony above, King Harrow stood frozen in place. Memories came flooding back, memories of his late wife moving with the same graceful and fast pace movements with her staff following her cues like an extension of her body.
Sierra clapped with elation and gave Callum a proud, sisterly smile. "Ha! Good on you, Callum!" 
Soren walked on over with a glass of lemonade in hand. "Whoa. I haven't seen moves like that since Queen Sarai." Soren's voice is without a shred of sarcasm or irony in his voice. He was genuinely in awe by what he saw. He remembered the times in which he would watch the legendary queen practice in the courtyard and the advice she would give him whenever he was feeling unsure of himself. She was always so kind to him... which only made him realize what a jerk he had been to her son. Soren knew why he treated Callum the way he did, but it would be a cold day in the underworld if he ever told anyone.
Callum froze when he mentioned his mother's name. Sarai was a skilled warrior just like her sister, Amaya, but Callum never saw himself on their level. Not even close. But just now, Soren said he moved just like his mother. For a moment, he could almost feel the ghost of his mother's hand on his shoulder, beaming with pride at her eldest son.
The guards that littered the courtyard gasped and bowed when King Harrow walked out to meet his sons, Sierra and Soren. The latter bowed when the king arrived. Callum almost bowed, but didn't when he felt his stepfather's kind eyes on him. Harrow looked as if he had seen a ghost, his skin was nearly drained of color and barely blinked.
"I... I was just playing around." Callum absentmindedly spinning the staff with one hand and then immediately stopped once he realized what he was doing.
"Well, you were really good," Harrow said, his smile growing wider.
"I agree." Sierra gave a playful wink in Callum's direction, a non-verbal "I told you so." "I'd say he's better at it than with a sword."
"I agree. Don't you, Soren?" King Harrow and his family gazed at the young Crown Guard.
"Uh, with all due respect, Your Majesty, but I'm afraid I don't have a lot of experience with this particular weapon," Soren admitted. He was always better equipped with a sword than a staff. He knew the basics sure, but not to the same level as the late queen or other guards. To Soren, the sword was the man's preferred weapon of choice.
"Oh, then perhaps... I could teach you a couple of tricks," Harrow offered, unable to slow down his proud smile.
"Really? You would do that?" Callum said, feeling a sense of worry mixed with excitement rising up in his insides.
"I know a thing or two, and perhaps in a couple of years, you can upgrade to one with the silver pointy end," Harrow said as he tapped on the flat wooden tip of the stick. "What do you say?"
Callum looked over his shoulder to Ezran and Sierra for some guidance, his younger brother gave him a thumbs up and Sierra nodded with a fierce look of pride as she gazed at him, practically begging him to accept the king's proposal.
Callum normally hated these lessons, getting knocked down by Soren and laughed at by the guards, them making bets on how long it would take for him to fall flat on either his face or his rump. But, him training with King Harrow, his stepfather, and the man who knew his mother better than anyone else, it was both intimidating, but also exciting.
Callum always struggled to find activities for him to share with his stepfather, and here he was with the chance to do just that. Callum gulped, his frightened side screaming at him to back down and run as quickly as he could, but the other side, the side eager to have that father-son bonding he's heard so much about, was telling him to go for it.
Callum's response was to swing his staff which
Harrow snatched easily with one hand. "I take it that's a 'yes' Don't worry, I'll teach you that move soon enough."
Harrow led Callum to the center of the courtyard, already showing his stepson the proper stance for when holding a spear in battle. Callum had natural balance, which was ironic to say given his history with sword fighting and, well, everything else, but he was a natural with the stick.
Sierra, Ezran, and Soren watched from the sidelines. Ezran and Bait watching intensely,
Ezran studying all of Callum's movements and even writing down a couple of notes on his notebook. Just as Callum always carried his sketchbook with him, Ezran carried a small notebook where he would write down certain details that interested him. He wasn't an artist like his brother, but he was a gifted writer, probably more advanced than most kids his age.
Ezran sat under the shade of the tree, which had a wooden sword jammed onto it. No guard has been able to yank it out without falling flat on their backs.
Sierra noticed the distant look on Soren's face.
Was he... deep thinking? She didn't think it was possible for him. Okay, maybe she shouldn't be so quick to judge. After all, his sister wasn't what she had originally expected either, it was only fair she made a genuine effort to get to know him as well.
"He's a natural, isn't he?" Sierra said, gently nudging Soren's side to get a reaction out of
him.
"Yeah." Soren nodded offhandedly. "King Harrow was a fierce warrior back in his time."
"Well, sure. But I was also referring to Callum," said Sierra.
Unfortunately, Callum slipped by accident, the staff falling out of his hand.
"Called it." Soren smiled, satisfied with himself, but Sierra said nothing and kept her gaze on Callum.
Instead of being made fun of, Harrow pulled his son off of the ground and instructed him on where he went wrong and to try again. When Callum did he stumbled, but he didn't fall. "Bravo! Well done, son." Callum's smile grew wide. Hearing Harrow call him "son" was always a nice reminder that, despite Callum's own insecurities, he was still loved.
Sierra smiled at the heart-melting moment, but she noticed that Soren wasn't looking too happy. He was crestfallen and silent, as though just watching the two of them having a good time brought down his spirits.
"Are you okay?" Sierra asked.
"Yeah. Whatever." Soren looked away from her curious gaze.
"If you say so." As Sierra continued watching the practice fight, with Ezran and Bait watching the scene.
"How did you know that he'll do better with a staff?" Ezran asked her curiously.
"I've learned that your mother fought with a staff," admitted Sierra. "So, I've figured that he probably takes after her." A touch of playfulness entered her voice. "Just like how you have inherited your mother's sweet tooth for jelly tarts." Ezran flushed in embarrassment and gave her a playful glare.
Soren was too distracted by the way the step-prince and his father laughed together while also contemplating on what Sierra just said. He remembered what she told him, about treating the prince with respect and also about Callum still having some respect for Soren. Come to think of it, this was the first real conversation he had with Sierra. He was treating her as a person instead of a pretty thing to chase after. Just because he accepted that Sierra didn't like him in that way didn't mean they couldn't be friends, right? Would that be so bad?
He decided to give this whole "being nicer" thing a try and offered her his hand for her to shake. "Guess I should start somewhere. I'm sorry for my behavior before. Do you think we could start over and be friends?"
Sierra smiled. "Sure." She shook Soren's hand. "I still expect you to be nicer to Callum."
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As night loomed over the horizon, the sun setting behind the mountaintops, Sierra walked out onto the roof of the castle, leaning over the edge to admire the beauty of the land. From the east, she thought if she tried hard enough she could see Xadia. Katolis was closest to the border that divided the human kingdoms and Xadia, but even now she couldn't tell which mountains were Xadia's and which were Katolis's.
In a way, that sounded like a good thing. The mountains being nearly indistinguishable from one another was a reminder that this world didn't use to be two places, but a single whole. A place where creatures of all sizes from all walks of life came and went and befriend one another.
Callum had told so many stories that Sierra was beginning to muddle them with reality. It was as if her current reality was the dream and the books and legends were the reality. She felt more at home, more at peace whenever the name Xadia came up. As she watched the setting sun she clenched her necklace, the one link to her past.
The sun had finally set and Sierra looked up to see Draco already in the stars. The stars seemed to shine brighter tonight. She clenched her necklace and looked up at the stars.
She will find her family. She will find her home again. In the meantime, she wouldn't mind calling Katolis home.