Jian Amal

"Again." Sweeping his long pole through the dusty air, Jari Maan al-Hassan cut through the billows of dust that were kicked up when the boy hit the ground. Swirling his pole through the air he stared down at the boy who stared hatefully back at him with amber eyes that mirrored his mother's.

"Do you mean to strike me down with a look? Come, put action to what you feel." Raising an eyebrow at the glower he received, the man motioned with his chin for him to rise. Under the watchful eye of the mid-day sun, the two had been going back and forth for the last hour, repeatedly revealing Jari Maan al-Hassan to be the victor in every match.

"I do not see why this is necessary Uncle Jari. My path has already been set in front of me, I am to succeed my father. I do not see how fighting in the dirt will help me in the future." Scoffing with a sneer the young man dusted the dirt out of his hair with a free hand.

"No, of course you would not, you only take the information that you have been spoon-fed from your father. Anything outside of that you disregard as useless like the ignorant child that you are."

"I do not!" Angered the young man rose up, easily goaded by his uncle's words. Gripping tighter the pole he held in his left hand, he shifted his feet slowly looking for his next target on his uncle.

"Do you think an enemy would give you time to adjust your looks, and make preparations? You must always be prepared for an attack.." Moving swiftly, Jari Maan al-Hassan caught Jian Amal on the side of his ribs, knocking his air out while pushing him a few steps back. Grunting he managed to block the next few with his pole held out in front of him for defense. "And ready to defend yourself, it is better to strike though before you can be struck. You are hesitant and weak.

"You say not to treat you as a child, but that is what I see before me. A weak, ignorant child, who clutches to his anger like a babe does their mother as it is all you carry inside."

"Rah!" Charging forward the young man barely made two steps forward before he was disarmed and back in the dirt.

"You need to learn patience, you are far too easy to predict with your movements. You strike hard, fast, but always in the same way. You are predictable in your anger and therefore easy to manage. You must learn to be cool and collected, this is not just a lesson for today, but for the rest of your life."

"My father says that anger-"

"Do not speak of what your father said in my presence." Cutting him off quickly, Jari Maan al-Hassan's relaxed expression was quickly replaced with a sour one.

"But-" Before he could say anything further his uncle stomped forward and jerked him up out of the dirt by a fistful of the front of his shirt. Wide-eyed Jian Amal stared at his uncle's incensed expression so close to his own.

"Your father is a but a murderous dog, the very reason why you do not have a mother, my sister. I will not stand to hear about him. The only reason you are even here is because of the other half of the blood that flows through your body that is not tainted."

Releasing his grip on the front of his shirt, Jari Maan al-Hassan let the young man fall into the dirt. Turning on his heels he strode away, unable to bear looking at the child who looked so much like his sister, yet so clearly idolized and spoke for her murderer. Throwing aside his pole the man left quickly stirring up clouds of dust in his frustration.