The days are hotter now that I have started learning swordsmanship yet again. Father had promised me if I train hard enough he will let me help him and I am not here to disappoint.
I grab the wooden sword and swing it in the pattern that my father had shown me. A delicate process of repeating exactly, be it the flow of the strike or handling the hilt, everything needs to be the same every time.
The sun was hitting my face so when a shadow blocked it, I looked up to see Jasper standing in the way.
"Young Master, can I join you?" He asked as if I would ever refuse. I nodded coolly, resuming with my strikes but on the second one, Jasper's sword stopped mine.
I looked up in confusion. He pointed at the swords with his chin and blink.
'A spar?' I thought as I sighed and nodded.
With a mutual understanding, we both took three steps back and took our stance.
We faced each other and looked at our faces through our swords. We both had started learning swordsmanship at the same time but for some reason Jasper is better at it than me.
A bead of sweat ran down my temple as I clutched the wooden sword firmly. Jasper stood opposite me, stance flawless—blade solid, eyes shining with anticipation.
We circled each other, tension heavy in the air. I moved first, my sword flashing in a swift arc at his side. Jasper moved in an instant, parrying it with a sharp crack before twisting his wrist, forcing my blade down.
I didn't have time to step back before he surged forward, sword flashing through the air at my shoulder. I lifted my sword just in time, shock flashing down my arms. He was fast. Faster than me.
I grit my teeth, shifting my stance before thrusting forward. This time, I pretended—swinging high but switching at the last moment to strike at his ribs. Jasper's eyes flashed in understanding, a fraction too slow. He spun, but my sword raked his side.
A smile played on my lips, but Jasper had more to give. In a fluid motion, he moved into my space, swords locked. His power pressed down on mine, forcing me to dig my heels into the ground.
"Getting better," he growled, amusement in his voice.
I blew out a breath. "Still not good enough."
With a surge of energy, I twisted my blade and spun to the side, breaking the lock. Before he could move, I struck low, pushing him back. But Jasper, always the strategist, turned my blow on me—using the force of his withdrawal to switch to a counterattack, his sword flashing straight for my chest.
I had barely parried it, stepping back a pace. I was gasping, my arms shaking from the impact of our clash.
Jasper leaned forward, his sword leaning down. "Want to try again?"
I wiped the sweat from my brow, pride fighting with fatigue. Then, holding my sword more firmly, I nodded.
The battle was far from finished.
Jasper grinned at my resolve, his grip on the hilt of his wooden sword tightening. He advanced, his movements smooth, fluid—like he'd rehearsed my next step in his mind already.
I refused to let him direct the fight. This time, I struck the initiative, charging at him with a quick blow to the shoulder. But Jasper was quicker—too quick. He sidestepped and shifted his sword, sending my blow to the side with a silky curl of his wrist.
My footing stuttered for a fraction of a heartbeat. That was all Jasper needed.
He used the space to his advantage, closing in with a quick thrust. His sword swooped for my ribs in a fluid arc, and I barely had time to bring mine up in time.
Wood against wood gave way to a ringing crack, my arms trembling under the force of it.
"Tsk," I wheezed harshly, trying to push back against him.
Jasper grinned. "Too slow."
He thrust sharply, breaking through my stance. I had to fall back, but he refused to yield. His blows now rained down on me, measured, merciless. Each one merged into the next, offering no room to return a blow.
I ground my teeth, parrying, deflecting, stepping back—time and time again. Each time I felt a gap in his defense, he adjusted, meeting me on level terms.
I seethed with anger. He was more skilled. Again.
No. Not today.
I made a calculated gamble, letting one of his blows whizz past me. Wood grazed pain out of my shoulder, but I used the fraction of time it gave me to shift my weight, dipping low and cutting his legs with a sweep of my sword.
Jasper took a step back, his balance unsure. It was the first time I'd ever beaten him.
I didn't let the opportunity get away.
Continuing on, I set him on the defensive, attacking in rapid succession. He deflected the first, the second, but the third was too quick. My sword sank into his wrist, and Jasper winced.
I had his guard open—an opening. I rushed forward, attacking at his chest.
But Jasper dodged at the last moment.
With a quick sidestep, he spun around behind me, his wooden sword inches from my back before I'd even had time to react.
My breath was caught in my throat.
"Checkmate," he whispered.
I stood stiff. The game was over.
Jasper sheathed his sword, stepping back with a careless smile. "That was better."
I breathed a sigh, rolling my sore shoulder. "Still lost."
Jasper laughed, tapping his sword against mine. "You're catching up."
I knew he said it in kindness, but all it did was make me more determined. I wasn't going to be satisfied with just 'catching up.'
One day, I'd be better than him.
And next time, I wouldn't lose.
We both placed our swords on the stand and sat on the ground. Well, it was me who was sitting, while Jasper was lying on the grass.
"Do you think we are strong?" I asked him without looking at him.
"We are strong, young master. Just look at us, we finished a swordsmanship course that takes a seasonal knight years to finish, we finished in months." I know he was looking at me as he was saying that.
I just shrugged and said, "Well, that's different. That's learning something, I mean strong from the inside." I had no idea what was wrong with me today.
I usually am pretty confident in myself and my decisions, but something about the near future was unsettling.
Jasper sighed and grabbed my shirt and pulled me down. He held my hands, which were filled with clauses and said, "Even if you are not strong from inside at the moment, it's ok." He turns to me as I am already looking at him, "Because you can rely on me always."
He said it in such confident and determined tone that that small seed of doubt vanished from my heart. A cool breeze passed through us playing with our hairs. The sun hid behind clouds, almost like giving us space.
I nodded and looked back up "Thank you, Jasper."
He tightened his hold on my hand and said, "Always, Young Master."