Training (1) - The Light Savior

His legs were burning, his arms were screaming to let go of the two wooden swords he was carrying, and his face was contorted in an expression of pain.

He walked out of the storage house. The guys were still talking calmly, and the Bastard, who was glancing from time to time at him, was sitting on the temple steps, almost in front of Roi.

Roi really wanted to smash his head to the ground. That asshole forced him to go back and forth dozens of times carrying shields, wooden armour, and useless heavy stuff which he had to bring back.

His eyes were slowly closing from fatigue; he was so far away from them.

Dolor passed close to the guys carrying a bucket of water, almost effortlessly. At that sight, Roi's legs collapsed, his strength vanished suddenly, and the two wooden swords fell harshly on the tiles. His trembling arms somehow manage to support his weight and fall, partially saving his dignity in front of everyone.

***

In the end, Omes sent him two guys to help him, Derlom and a guy with really badly cut hair.

Derlom helped him to get on his feet, while the other one just took his swords and two more and went back to Omes.

<> He said with his usual smile. He was chewing a leaf. His breath was fresh and pleasant.

Roi got up with his help.

<> His voice was exhausted and weak.

Roi began to walk with his help, but he wanted... No, he had to walk on his own as soon as possible. But, for now, he will use his help.

<> He asked, looking ahead. <> He looked at him with a smirk on his face.

Roi didn't want to think about it so much now. He was tired, disappointed, and lost.

<> Roi raised his gaze, looking at the almost twenty people preparing themselves for training.

Omes got up and was talking to a guy with short, messy, and dark hair. The others were putting on their armour, which was just a square piece of wood held in place by a green cord at the back, protecting the chest and back.

<> Roi interrupted Derlom.

<> The Savior asked him. His eyes moved from one person to another. His tired mind went on its own. He knew that no one believed him, not with that flame inside him, which had now moved to his legs. But he had to ask his only friend.

<> Derlom asked, curious. His smile disappeared.

<> His voice was weak and lost.

Two days, it was two days that he was there. It wasn't possible that he imagined Sun God talking to him. It had to be real. And yet, He chose a monster to be his savior.

Derlom looked ahead, maybe at Omes, maybe at the temple, or he couldn't bear to look at his face.

<> His voice was neutral, neither happy nor sad.

Roi smiled. For the first time, he was right about something.

***

<> Omes pointed his thumb at Roi, who had just put on the armour with Derlom's help. The sword and the shield were so heavy that his arms fell on his side, seemingly lifeless.

Then, he turned to them and gestured to Derlom to get close to him. Derlom followed the order diligently. On his face, there was a hint of fear.

Lish was the guy that Omes was talking to before. A shadow of a brown beard covered his cheeks. He walked towards Roi, avoiding children who were playing with swords made for them, until Omes calmly told them to stop. On his way, he patted the guy with awful hair.

<> Lish's voice was firm and without a shadow of doubt.

His walk was steady and calculated, as if he were ready to fight in that moment. His jaw was sharp and large. His eyes were brown, and he too had dark bags under his eyes. They were bigger and kind, even with a wooden sword gripped so tightly that every single muscle in his forearm was visible.

Even though he was taller than he was broad, he felt that he was definitely stronger than Derlom. His jaw was so large that it seemed

<> Even his voice, although firm, was kind and soft.

"Gordàlish. Lish. uh."