Ad Infinitum

A beautiful melody could be heard permeating the surrounding air, clashes of steel versus steel. The sound so pleasant to the ears, it felt like the singing of a famous bard. It's those very same sounds that woke me up from my sleep this morning.

A quiet grown leaves my lips as my eyes open right afterwards, seeing rays of sunlight creeping from the window onto the wooden interior of my room. Without hesitation on my actions, a split moment is enough for me spring up from my bed, standing on the floor.

My steps, which were calm & at peace, quickly led me outside of the house, towards our well. It was a morning filled with outbursts of cold wind, which were cancelled out by the burning sun above our heads. I guess, a better way to say it is... it makes you feel alive.

Naturally, I wasn't spending my time admiring the weather that's actually pretty common around here. Instead, my hands currently inside the well, about to give my face a splash of cold water, an energizer, if you will. After which, the crystal clear reflection of my face on the water doesn't escape my eyes; and I couldn't help but take a look.

Though please, I am not someone who likes to see his own good looks, it's just that I was curious to see what color were my eyes today.

My short golden hair glistened through the reflection despite it being a total mess, and just below it, my eyes. The reason for my daily checking is that, on some days, my eyes would appear golden, just as my silly hair is now, and other days, they would be a heartwarming blue, which seems to be the more common.

As for today... they're blue. Why the color of my eyes change is something that I've been trying to know more about for a while, even my parents have tried, to no avail. As such, it quickly turned into a commonly known thing in the village my family and I resided in.

"Aargh!

"If it's only this much, you won't be able to get on top of me!"

The loud shouting of two men broke through my little trance and honestly, I couldn't help but be embarrassed. Why?

Oftentimes, the sparring matches between the two men in question lead to some... uncomfortable misconceptions here and there. In any case, I had no reason to daddle near the well any longer, so I began walking towards sounds, going half-way around the house.

There, on the cleanly cut short grass, laid two men. One of those two men, was my father, the other, his long-time friend Nikolai. The sounds of their desperate struggle, a struggle they call a manly spar were soon interrupted by the stern voice of my mother, whom spoke a distance away from them.

"Darling, how about you stop now, Chris is finally awake." The commanding tone of my mother couldn't elude either of the two entangled men, and if anything, they hastily obeyed. "Haha kiddo, I guess we might have to tone down the training if the amount of sleep you get keeps increasing, huh?"

That was the boisterous, teasing remark of my father, and the second: "Well you know Nick, with how much the poor lad has to do, even our former teacher would be bed-ridden, HA!" - was the aforementioned long-time friend.

I couldn't help but let out an embarrassing chuckle as I slowly walked towards my mother. My mother, while beautiful, isn't particularly frail & elegant as one might expect.

To be more precise, she used to be a Squire to a Knight! The very same Knights that serve the Saints! It was precisely because of this that while it's true I'm extremely proud of her, neither me, my father, or anyone who knows what's good for them, makes my mother angry.

She had long, light-brown hair which reached her shoulders. That was coupled with her sharp, hazelnut eyes. Her body was lean, and despite being in a comfortable dress, the muscles on her body just couldn't help but be seen.

Despite her sitting on a chair beside a table we had outside, her hand still managed to reach the top of my head as she gave me a loving shuffle to my hair. As the following words escaped her lips, albeit quietly. "Well, dear, when are you going to break the news to your father, eh?"

Sometimes, I am rather glad that my mother isn't as elegant or frail as other women can be, since otherwise if she was, and I told someone she was a devil in disguise, who'd believe me, right?

Thankfully, before I could come up with an excuse to give to her, my father and Nikolai already made their way to us. My father and Nikolai, were in fact, both students of a different Knight, a step below Squires. Both of their bodies were muscular, as if they were some freaks of nature. In fact, it was my father's golden hair and blue eyes that I've inherited, though sadly, that doesn't include his jacked body.

As the two got close to us, a conversation ensued.

"Well well well, you sleeping little gremlin. We'll be going all out with your training this evening and you sure as hell won't be sleeping this long again, hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah, father."

"Pffft, he sure sounds enthusiastic about it, Nick."

"At least this kid beats you in stamina, heh."

"Bahahaha, that was a good one, Arielle!"

"Uncle Nikolai, is that also why you keep being on the bottom with my dad?"

"Oh you little brat!"

Laughter filled the air, it was peaceful. It wasn't until late in the afternoon, that Nikolai left our house, bidding all of us goodbyes for the day.

My mother would go about doing her own things, be that household chores, or even keeping up with her own training, a distance away, of course. Naturally, while all of that took place, it was time for father to train me, and honestly, I don't look forward to these sessions.

The news that my mother implied about earlier, was the fact that instead of wielding the sword, I've always wanted to wield words instead. Both my parents are already aware of just how much I read, however, it is only my mother who knows just how much reading & learning is more important to me.

Reading about the cultures of other kingdoms, learning about the Saints and most notable Knights of our time, or just learning arithmetic. Knowledge is, and always will be, more important to me than swinging some sword... even if it is sometimes charming in its own right.

My father's training was in fact, rather simple. I would spar with him 3 times a week, and the rest of the time, I simply had to perform basics for ludicrous amount of repetitions. Whether that be a simple swing of a sword, an imaginary parry, or something else, I had to do each, at least hundreds of times each day. If anything, the lack of any actual learning is probably what made me dislike sword training.

I simply couldn't understand... why? Why repeat the same action over and over again. Why not allow me to practice your style instead, when I've been doing the very same thing over the years of my growing up. It was illogical, and many a times I wished to say something about my father's teaching methods, however, I never did.

If my mother, who is stronger than my father in swordsmanship, says nothing about his teaching methods, then I don't dare bring anything up. I know neither of my parents are stupid, and I know they wouldn't make me do things without a reason, yet, frustration constantly flowed within me every time I swung my sword, hearing the rambles of my idiotic dad.

The training sessions would only ever stop after it was well past dark, and I would be allowed to leave with some teasing from my father. While I do wish to complain, I know perfectly well I cannot.

Just as they think I'm asleep the moment I go back into our house, both my father and mother oftentimes spar late through the night. In a way, they work even harder. Though, even after I keep asking why they do it, or the need to hold a sword in general, both of my parents would refuse to give a straight answer. And I guess, I never really bothered to insist on getting one either.

Having arrived back in my room and hearing the occasional clash of swords, sometimes fierce & sometimes gentle, I slowly make my way towards the bed and fall onto it, my body sore.

Despite the desire to unravel the mysteries of yet another book, not an inch of my body moves, and even as sweat keeps dripping down my body, my eyes force themselves shut as I fall fast asleep.

My final thoughts, that escaped the prison of sleep for a split second, echoed in my mind before it completely shut down.

'So peaceful, just like every other day.'