∞ Chapter 13

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There was a brief period of uncomfortable serenity before the nightmares began again.
"Yes... Like that. Oh, my Prince - your grip is far too tight. It's made your arm rigid."
"So, like..." The young prince loosened his hold on the sword, and his protector released his supporting hands.
"You've holding it on your own now."
"Whoa... so cool!"
The prince said his thanks, along with his protector's name.
He could still hear his young master's call - the name that had been gifted upon him, the boy's best friend and eternal servant.
He had always been diligent and perseverant in combat lessons. So much stronger than anyone had anticipated. In his case, looks were indeed deceiving; this small child, meek and shy, becoming dangerously close to a master swordsman with merely five years of lessons? Truly impressive, even for a royal.
His guardian had been a proud teacher, perhaps even a third parent. That is, if a third parent was allowed to be only six years older than the child.
The swords danced back and forth, their masters' footwork making patterns in the sand of the courtyard. There was a severe height difference between the knight and the prince, but nonetheless the two warriors were equally matched. As the blades whined and squealed, the former added the occasional comment to the battle, such as "You're leaving yourself open!" and "Remember to apply tactics!", but not much more.
Their lessons had been increasingly physically demanding, but never cut back on fun. The prince's protector challenged himself to always find something small to mock, to always lighten the boy's face with a smile. Each and every time, he laughed - no matter how feeble the joke, there was always that smile. Even when the knight knew his prince did not feel like smiling, it was always there, because the prince wanted him to be happy, too.
The guardian had wept over it, once. Over the love that was bestowed upon him that he did not deserve; but the child had begged him to stop crying.

"It's alright," he said. "You deserve more than you give yourself credit for."
The prince had been eleven. The knight had been more than two hundred years older. But never had the teacher been so moved by the words of his student.
It made what happened next so much more shattering.




Hello, yes, I've changed the knight's age! Apologies if you read the previous version as his age could be vital to the story. Or its sequel.
It's all in planning.

Have a great day!

- Blitz

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