Dad lore (2)...

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I turn around slowly, scanning the area. I've already resume the flow of mana to my body, although limiting it to a degree that the radius of my aura won't reach the house and disturb Sandra or Arthur. I'm operating at power similar to a B rank.

I lift my axe in front of me, pointing the tool towards the other end of the clearing.

"Show yourself and explain your purpose for finding me," I state, letting the commanding tone seep into my voice like old times. I'm already irritated that she's here, but I'm fully aware that I'll probably feel worse once she leaves.

The silence hangs for a while before I hear a sigh, one that seems to reverberate through the air. A chilling white mist forms in the air, hanging low to the ground. She materializes out of the mist some distance in front of me, those blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

"C'mon, Thomas! Can't an old girl just reconnect with her favorite classmate?" She asks, throwing her hair over her shoulder and looking at me with that sly grin. 

"We were never classmates. I was in 4th year when you entered 1st," I say, focusing on the fact that she described herself as my classmate rather than her deflection of my question. "We were acquaintances at best."

"You wound me, Thomas! You're words are still as sharp as ever!" She responds, acting as if I've struck her when no such thing has happened. "Am I perhaps still too young for your tastes?"

Oh great, she still hasn't gotten over it. The great Clara Holliday holding a grudge for 21 damn years. I frown slightly, lowering the axe to my side and taking a less aggressive and more neutral stance.

"No, but I'm married, so keep out of my life, preferably," I request, not even bothering to sugarcoat my words. Clara means trouble, no matter what words come out of that mouth.

She frowns, this time a bit more genuinely. Really, how much does it take to get through her head and to that pebble sized brain?!?

"Well that's just tactless, Thomas," She says with a deep sigh this time, pulling out her spell book and opening it up. She flips around a little before stopping on a page somewhere towards the end. "Here's the deal, Thomas. I know that I can't have you, so I came up with this great idea! I, the great and venerable Clara Holliday, will take your son as a disciple! I saw that he recently unlocked his mana, so-"

"No," I don't leave my answer up for question and raise the axe up again, resuming the aggressive stance I had prior.

"Really? Not even a second thought?" Clara asks, as if it's possible for me to have second thoughts about such a thing. "You haven't even heard my terms yet! In my opinion, they're extremely fair!"

Well that's a new one, she usually just demands. I raise an eyebrow and nod, indicating for her to list them off. Even though I'll likely lose the fight, I'll still fight it if I need to.

She pauses, as if not having expected to be heard out. She seemed unprepared for it, as if the terms didn't exist until 5 seconds ago.

"Uhh, yeah," She coughs to clear her throat, holding her spell book like a clipboard as she puts on her glasses. She stops on the very last page. "So... I'll give him housing, mentorship, an allowance, freedom of movement with few limitations... protection obviously! And..."

She stops, as if trying to name a few more terms to this contract.

"I mean, being the disciple of the Full Moon Witch would be a major reputation boost, y'know?" She's just scrambling for bonuses at this point. The only one I actually cared about from the start was choice.

"Give me your word," I demand, my tone deepening. This is the most important decision I've had in years, entrusting my child to someone who isn't me or Sandra. I don't untense my stance, my brows creasing.

"Huh? My word?" She responds, closing the spell book once she hears me speak. A smile emerges on her face, although small. "Easy. I swear on my name that, if Arthur agrees to the terms, then I won't backtrack on any of the terms stated."

I finally relax my stance. There's a lot of things Clara would do, but breaking her words isn't one of them. Now I just have to hope that Arthur doesn't accept this contract when I bring it up. Still, I feel guilty for even entertaining the thought of letting this woman near my son.

"Give me a week to talk with him and we'll see what he says."

* * *

Arthur Ishviel POV...

It's the twenty-fourth of October, 4 days since Dad told me about the deal. Dad said that I needed to decide this week, but I haven't gotten around to it. He won't let me meet her to judge her for myself and I can clearly tell that his viewpoint on her is extremely biased.

Either way, I took Marsha's advice and asked Dad to teach me some basic's on swordsmanship this week. I felt pretty embarrassed when I tried to keep up with all he was teaching. It's not that I'm a bad learner, but rather that he's a terrible teacher. He just glosses over subjects like I'm supposed to have already known them! 

I stand up from my desk, having once again fallen asleep while writing. I go to my wardrobe and pull out a blue shirt and those nice black pants that I didn't wear a few days ago. I change into them and grab the sword that's leaning against the wall. It still shocks me how dependent I was when I first arrived here... or how helpless I was in my first life... I never want to feel like that again.

I shudder slightly, shaking off the uncomfortable thoughts. Best not to think about all that until I'm ready. I go out of my room and into the hall, then promptly go down the stairs. I walk through the living room and kitchen, exiting out the back door and into the backyard.

Short wooden fencing lines our backyard, giving it quite the homely look despite the time period. The grass is healthy, save for the center of the backyard which is simple dirt, trodden on until the grass refused to grow back.

My father is already waiting there, a wooden sword in his hand. I walk over to this circle and wait calmly for him to address me. Both of our faces are blank as we look each other in the eyes. He's in a tall stance, one that seems to command respect from the pits of my soul.

"Have you decided on her deal yet?" He asks, seeming more concerned about competing with this woman rather than training me. I feel like he isn't trying to protect me, but rather spite her.

"No, I haven't," I say, looking down at the ground. I feel like this should be an easy decision, but it isn't.

I either choose a family that I'm not very attached to or a mentor who gives me everything I want. I should obviously choose the mentor, but I feel so attached to this family for no apparent reason.

"That's fine. I trust that you'll make the right decision when the time comes."

With that, he switches topics onto training me like he said he would.

"Yesterday we went over the basics of blocking, but today we'll be focusing on how to capitalize on the opening a deflection can give," He states, lifting the wooden sword up and into a very basic stance. "I'll swing. You will block and try to strike me in return."

I draw my sword from my waist, the heft being much more manageable than when I was first given it. A wooden sword versus a metal one, the winner should be obvious... that is an assumption I made on the first day of training, to which I was immediately corrected upon.

"Alright," I say, going into a fools guard with the tip of my sword in front and pointed towards the ground. My chest is rotated to the side, my left side pointing towards him.

He juts the wooden sword forward, swinging from top right to middle left. I raise the sword with my left hand to block it and stagger, pushing his blade off to the side. I rotate my wrist in order to deliver a slash in return, but find that he's already sidestepped towards my back, the tip of his wooden sword pressed against my rib cage.

"A good effort, unfortunately fool's guard is easy to bait when you know how it's principles work. Furthermore, you disregarded any critical thinking and dove on the first opportunity you saw," He says, ripping apart my fighting with brutal honesty. "When it comes down to technique, fool's guard is only viable for the most basic of amateurs."

In my opinion, sword fighting has the complexity of boxing with a few caveats. If you don't pay attention, it just looks like swinging and blocking, but it's damn hard to not suck at this.