Entitled: ----Prologue----(A)
The 5th age
Sparks flew as metal rang upon metal,muttering a curse,Lord Ren of the house of ehllan turned toward his opponent,sweat matted his hair,his breathing heavied. Flame errupted in the corner of his mind,the sweet sensation of emotion engulfed him removing pain as it swelled.
He took a step forward,he felt his opponent,felt him raising his sword,felt the blade as it fell. In a fluid counter stroke Lord Ren spun the attacker to his side,revealing an opening across his chest. He plunged his sword in a spiral fassion,only to be stopped short by an even heavier blade,which slammed his nearly out of his hands.
Pulling off his blindfold,the first eye he met was his trainers,his face scared and placid never bearing a shread of emotion even during his childhood days,watched him intently.His arm still shook from the aftershock of his blade but Lord Ren managed to pull that aside.
Letting go of the rage that was in him took more effort then that of the whole practice round. Gathering himself he stretched out a hand to help his fallen opponent,positive gestures were exchanged,but broke when his trainer stepped in.
He was a blademaster,and the young lord only a small frament of what he was to become."punishment",he had a horse voice that reverbrated throughout the pratice halls,"A week in the dungeons should remind a yong lord never to use emotion as an asset in battle for the twelveth time.". feet dragging,Lord Ren forced himself to obey,in fear of his father.Labels: Prologue
