A Day of Sorrow, The Tales of Old

A Day of Sorrow, Chapter 2

Afrin gave himself too little credit, but then again, Carnade never relented, focusing entirely on burning away his faults. It was untrue to state that a single peer of his were on par with him. Through his intense training, it wouldn't surprise Carnade if his son could defeat a soldier of The Order.

His son's blade managed to slip through his defense, smashing against his cheek. Carnade took a step back, his eye remaining on Afrin. It was a good hit, drawing on a light trickle of blood.

Afrin lowered his blade, his brows drawing together, the first strike which had ever landed true on Carnade. It was as if he didn't know how to react, his eyes wide, and fear possessing him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Afrin said.

Zoey stepped out from inside, watching from the deck with two red vials in hand. She sat down on the steps of the deck, eyeing them.

Carnade jolted forward, swinging low. Afrin wasn't prepared to block an attack. His back smashed against sand, a weak cry escaping his lips. Without relenting, Carnade stepped onto his son's shield arm and kicked his chest. Afrin pushed his blade toward Carnade but from his position, it was easy to block, striking him in the chest with his sword again.

Time and time again Carnade kicked and struck Afrin with his blade until he was lying without the strength to fight. Zoey gave a slight grimace, but she didn't interfere. Blood wet the sand, cuts and bruises scattered along his son's body, a couple of his bones broken. His condition may have been ugly, but it wasn't the first time that he laid in such agony.

Carnade glanced over to his wife, waving her over. Iris stepped out onto the deck as Zoey stood. Iris was similar to her mother in many ways, with beautiful blonde hair and a face almost identical, but her eyes were his, dark green. Afrin, however, looked nothing like either of them, his hair and eyes a misty grey, similar to exelian steel.

She stared at her brother, a glint of jealousy passing through her gaze.

"Here you go, darling," Zoey said, handing him both vials.

He leaned down next to Afrin, his breaths weak and coming out in wheezes. Carnade removed the top of the vial and emptied it into his mouth. It was warm, sweet, and pleasant as it moved down his throat. The single cut on his cheek mended itself back together, the first time he'd taken a potion after training with his son.

Carnade leaned down and whispered into his son's ear, "you were doing good up until you cowered. Do you think I enjoy leaving you bloodied and broken on the ground. Not once has it filled me with joy, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to do the same to me. I've seen brothers, spouses, and close friends oppose one another. War and conflict will never be easy. Soul devourers won't always be your only enemy. If you hesitate, you die. Do you understand me, son?"

Afrin nodded, mumbling, "yes, sir."

"Good, tomorrow I expect you to strike me again. The day you leave me in the state that you're lying in is the day you'll be ready."

Carnade lowered the vial to Afrin's lips and poured. The red liquid escaped the vial and absorbed its way into Afrin's body. His cuts and bruises healed, his skin returning to its natural color. A few snaps echoed through the backyard, Afrin grunting, as his bones moved back into place.

Carnade stood and held his hand out. His son took it, allowing him to help him to his feet. He took both training swords and placed them back onto the rack. His wife put a hand on his shoulder, glancing down at the blades.

"I'll clean those later. Breakfast is ready, let's go inside," Zoey turned to Afrin. "You did well today. Soon, you'll be a great warrior, better than even your father."