Prologue : Bryce Fletcher (1)

Duck's Note: Hey people!!! Bryce's prologue is sort of integral if you want to understand the beginning of the story better, so please make sure to read through it!

Born into an upper-middle-class household in a cozy neighborhood, Bryce Fletcher's life was destined to be the perfect example of a long, slow, and comfortable life.

His earlier years went by in a flash. Truth be told, not much can be said about the life of a newborn, especially one belonging to such a loving family. His mother was a self-made woman who grew up in a poor environment, living on food stamps and leftovers for all of her childhood. Thanks to her talents, she got admitted to a prestigious school and got a comfortable, well-paying job as a lead engineer for a renowned tech company.

Bryce's father, on the other hand, was a stay-at-home dad who had a borderline unhealthy obsession with the Middle Ages; he fervently collected old weapons and armor and would display them with pride in every corner of his house. 

Though his mother desperately wanted Bryce to follow in her footsteps, he had spent the majority of his childhood with his father, and his obsession with history and swords most definitely rubbed off on him.

By the time he was four, all he could think of was playing with the many weapons that his father had displayed around the house, though, of course, his father would not allow it, always repeating the same phrase:

"No, Bryce! You're too young for that; you'll have to wait until you're older." 

And so Bryce's very first goal was set in stone: he would absolutely get to play with those weapons one day, and to do so, he would spare no effort. In his childlike mind, he thought that copying his father would perhaps make him grow up faster, and so he did. He followed him around the house at all times, but he was especially attentive when his father worked out.

He would do his best to copy his dad's movements, but to no avail. Amused, his father decided to humor him and began integrating Bryce into his training routine, albeit in a very toned-down fashion.

During his school life, Bryce was never particularly bullied. Thanks to his habit of training with his father, he was lacking in neither confidence nor athleticism. However, his very specific interests never truly coincided with those of his peers; while they talked about cartoons, sports, or other interests, he remained dead-set on reading old books about the medieval era. He soon knew more about centuries-old kings than he did about his few friends, but that didn't particularly bother him.

As he read, he eventually stumbled upon tales of chivalry and honor, tales of knights rescuing damsels in distress and felling evildoers. He was amazed, and soon such knights became to him what superheroes were to his peers: role models.

As he stared upon the pages of the books, he felt a deep longing that trumped anything he had ever felt before. His heart was ablaze with excitement. He wanted, more than anything, to become a chivalrous man just like the ones in the stories he read, saving people in need with a gallant stride.

However, people in need weren't as common in life as they were in his books. With no one to save, his excitement quieted down over the years. As he grew, he slowly learned the proper ways of the world. His interest in tales of chivalry grew into a fascination with history, and he soon began branching out into other hobbies and interests, such as games, music, and film.

His father had finally allowed him to touch the weapons he had sought and admired since he was a child, but the rush of happiness that came with it died down as quick as it came. He had reached his goal, and he now lacked a definitive drive, though he did not particularly let that get him down.

By the time he had reached his second year of middle school, he had already become quite popular; he had maintained the athleticism he had as a child and had decent looks. Frazzled brown hair and a decently sharp face that had been spared from an excess of pimples, paired with his natural predisposition to most sports, allowed him to gather a sizeable entourage.

Though he found that he could only truly be himself in front of one of the many people that had started to associate with him, a nerdy boy named Oliver, who, like Bryce, had a strange fascination with the Middle Ages,.

Bryce became quick friends with Oliver and naturally discarded the rest of his clique little by little as he grew up, either due to differing interests or simply because of life's uncertainties. By the time he had reached high school, Oliver was his only friend.

During his high school years, due to Oliver's suggestions, Bryce joined a HEMA club and quickly discovered a new obsession. By now, he had already received his father's permission to swing some of the less valuable weapons in his collection, but the feeling of actually dueling with them was indescribable to him. As he continued to practice, he felt himself improve at breakneck pace, garnering the attention of his instructor, who praised his talents, suggesting he join a tournament.

Finally, after so many years, Bryce grabbed ahold of another dream; he felt as if his life was finally turning around, but fate would simply not leave it there, and tragedy would soon find Bryce, who had up until now lived a life mostly devoid of sadness.