The Origin of the Wolf by Danny Beeson

Author:Danny Beeson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: Troubador Publishing
Published: 2024-08-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

A Disturbance in the Forest

Lyncon gripped the sword tightly as he eyed his opponent across the clearing. He paused to push a stray lock of hair from in front of his eyes. After a deep breath he tensed his muscles and exploded forwards, sword held up and ready beside him.

He cleared the distance between himself and Fenrir in three long strides. When he neared the elf he swung his sword at head height with ferocious strength, the blade gleaming in the late afternoon sun as it whistled through the air towards its target. With a casual calm, Fenrir ducked the blade and stepped aside while Lyncon sailed past him, carried on by his own momentum. Grinding to a halt, Lyncon spun on his heel to face his opponent again, turning just in time to catch Fenrir’s fist on the left side of his jaw, the punch sending him sprawling backwards into the dirt.

Silently, the elf loomed over him, looking down with impassive eyes. “Too slow.” He turned and paced away. “You can do better. I have seen it.”

With a huff of frustration Lyncon hauled himself to his feet, rubbing his jaw with his free hand. “Maybe once but that was before.”

“Wrong! Training is never forgotten. It is not a memory but an instinct, in your body as much as your mind. Your muscles will remember. You just have to make them. Less thinking and more doing.” He turned to face Lyncon and raised his own sword. “Again!”

Still rubbing his jaw, Lyncon reset his stance and adjusted his sword grip. Then he began his approach, cautiously this time, in slow, measured steps. He kept his sword close to him, hands just above hip height. When he was almost in range of the elf he stabbed forwards, driving at his opponent’s gut. Fenrir deflected the blow with a dull clang, pushing Lyncon’s sword aside before launching an attack of his own. Lyncon just had time to duck the cut that was aimed for his head, the blade whistling through the air above him. The two foes stepped apart and readied themselves to go again.

Fenrir lunged suddenly into an attack. His blade cut through the air in a series of vicious slashes and thrusts that Lyncon could only just manage to parry as he was forced backwards under the onslaught. The speed was frightening, ferocious, and Lyncon had to concentrate as hard as he could to block or dodge every strike. The sound of their swords meeting rang through the clearing, disturbing the tranquillity of the forest around them.

Finally Lyncon’s back struck a tree and he could retreat no further. Now he was trapped at the elf’s mercy, desperately fending off blow after blow as his arms began to ache and sweat formed on his brow. As Fenrir raised his blade to strike down, Lyncon clenched his jaw and pushed off from the tree with one foot, driving his shoulder into his teacher’s midriff. Both fell to the floor in a heap, rolling across the grass.

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