PRACTISE: An anthology of incomplete stories

A Knight's Tears

"I can't scurry and cry in a corner like I always do. For the sake of becoming the greatest knight of my generation, I cannot stumble ",he spoke wiping the tears that were threatening to fall on his cheeks.
"So,what if my dearest left me. It pangs my heart for certain- her memories. But she had to leave,didnt she".

To the sound of a blade being unsheathed,he pulled out his sword. A mean double-edged five feet long and two feet wide  weapon with a wider crossguard and a pommel that was made of a red ruby.
A swing across a straw dummy ,cut it into two and left a shrill sound reverberating in the air, from the strength of that slash.

"I wish you hadn't left, I know I was distracted at times from what I pursued because of you. "
Another diagonal swing sent an airwave across the training room that wrecked a dummy of wood into a thousand splinters. The passage of time was invisible to him now, for all he knew was the warmth the swinging of his blade was bringing him. His blade. It will never leave his side,unlike the people he had to leave and the people who left him.

A maid slid the door to the training room calling out, "Master Ethan,your food is....eeeekkk!" And the door was quickly shut and just as she moved away from it,his blade dug into it . "Silence!" His eyes were bloodshot as she scurried away like a frightened mouse,back to the kitchen. With much force ,he twisted the blade,which left an irregular shape in the midst of the door as it broke free and he started swinging again.

Sweat started beading down on his brows and also collected on his back. Even if the maid hadn't passed to the rest of the servants her incident,the entire mansion would still have been eerily quiet because of the shouts and sounds of massive wreckage coming from the training room.

And as the day started to come to an end,so did the sword slowed. Plunging it deep into one of the floorboards,he knelt, finally letting the tears overwhelm him. Everyone stayed far away from the training room,enough to be unable to hear him sob and then breakdown completely repeating the name of his best friend.

The only friend who understood him the most. Ethan's body shuddered as he recalled the moment his mind said, "So this is the end,huh" when her boat left the shore.

Clenching at his tunic he said out softly, "So this is what it means for the body to shudder. Hahaha",tears came sprawling out as he cocked back his head laughing ,
" thanks to you,this is the first time I'm experiencing this emotion".

After saying so,he buckled up,falling to his knees. One hand still around the hilt of the plunged sword. "Why? Why...Paula,why?". It was as if words were something that he had forgotten how to compose. All he could do was recall flashes of her face,her words,and keep repeating why when crying left him out of breath.

Tightening his grip then,with both hands now,around the hilt- he slowly stood up.
Pulling the blade from the ground,he held it vertical in front of his eyes. Looking at his own reflection from the shiny surface of the sword,his gaze hardened.

"I will be a knight. The most skilled there ever was"

After another sharp thrust that pierced the air,he put it back in.
"Blood shall rain where I walk  ", his face hardened as he said so.

And then stomped off the room to head for some rest,because tomorrow he had to train again.

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