8th of Fall
513 AV
9th Bell
The gym wasn't terribly busy, and the steady banging and muffled grunts of the Icewatch members hitting the weights and one another with wooden weaponry created a steady noise which padded out any silence left to linger in the air. Upon entering the Tundra Training Stadium, Enoleus had found himself immediately struck by the dedication of the Icewatch members - some of them had been meticulously engaged in their training for an entire bell, and in all likeliness had been at it for several bells before he even had arrived. Now, though, Enoleus was even more struck by Eyrwen, who had been gracious enough to agree to see to getting him started on his training.
"So, if you don't mind me asking, Enoleus," she began, resting part of her weight on her Bo Staff as she spoke. "What made you decide to pick up the Longsword?"
Enoleus had set his actual Longsword down, leaning nearby against a training dummy. He held a worn wooden one somewhat haphazardly in his right hand, and given the fidgety and awkward stance he was holding, it was blatantly obvious he hadn't the foggiest idea what he was doing with it. "Well, it's..." Enoleus stared down at the weapon, imagining in his mind it was the real thing. He thought about all the things he could say to her; his father being murdered or the several near death experiences that had touched him outside the walls of the city. A frown spread across Enoleus' face, who would brace the point of his wooden sword against the floor as his mouth continued to hang open speechlessly.
"Ah, well." Eyrwen smiled, sensing hesitation in his response. "That's not really what's important. What is important is that you're here now, and we get to work." She would lift her Staff up, her wrists and fingertips manipulating it with practiced ease as it spun and twirled about her form effortlessly. Enoleus watched her movements in awe, suddenly much more self-conscious about the haphazard manner he was gripping at his own sword. Still, he was here to learn, and he eagerly awaited instruction. 'I wonder what she'll have me do first? Practice on one of the dummies?' He rubbed at the stubble on his face with his free hand absently as he watched Eyrwen draw closer. 'Maybe start with basic stance and form?'
Enoleus was violently torn from his reverie by a sharp pain exploding from the side of his head. It was accompanied by a sharp cracking noise, and the next thing Enoleus knew the floor was rushing up to meet his face. He let out a sharp groan as he made impact with the ground, both his hands gripping at the side of his skull. "Nyrah! What'd you do that for?"
He was damn sure that his head had been knocked several feet from his body - it sure felt that way. Everything was a blur, pulsing in perfect time with the fire ringing about in his skull, yet he could still make out Eyrwen standing over him, a hand keeping his staff upright and at her side, and the other placed impatiently on her hip.
"Consider it your first lesson. Daydreaming like that with an opponent right in front of you can cost you dearly." Enoleus slowly rolled, bracing his weight on his arms as he picked himself back up - which was quite the feat, given how hard his head was pounding. Although he half expected another merciless thwack from Eyrwen's Bo to knock him right back to the floor, she simply continued her tirade, watching him get back up with stern eyes. "I've seen plenty of good men, three times your talent in combat, die because they got complacent and started letting their mind drift in dangerous situations." As Enoleus stood completely upright, Eyrwen would spin her staff around around in a fluid motion, angling it toward his chest.
Enoleus flinched, his weapon still on the ground, and the quickness of Eyrwen's movements giving him no time for a real reaction. However, instead of another strike, he felt Eyrwen jabbing softly at his chest with the end of her weapon. "I know your type. Mind always dancing about, thinking about the future or the past - never on where he is, or what he is doing. Understand me?" The tone in her voice as she finished made it blatantly obvious it wasn't really a question at this point, and was more along the lines of a demand - to which Enoleus was more than happy to acquiesce if it meant he could avoid the business end of Eyrwen's Bo. He nodded hastily, his mouth opening to try and formulate some kind of response.
"Your weapon." Enoleus slowly closed his mouth, tilting his head slightly in confusion. "My...weapon?"
All the air rushed painfully from Enoleus' body as Eyrwen jabbed him violently in the stomach with the butt of her staff, turning it back up and slamming it back down to the ground to hold it at the ready in one fluid motion. "Pick up your weapon!" Enoleus had nearly collapsed again, clutching at his midriff as he gasp desperately for air. He leaned over, grasping hurriedly for his wooden sword, before standing back upright and holding it awkwardly in front of him.
Eyrwen smiled, nodding as her eyes ran him up and down - appraising his stance. " See? Was that so hard?" The still somewhat less matured part of Enoleus' teenage brain quickly came up with several cheeky retorts, but the part of him still desperately trying to bring oxygen back into his body had the sagacity to suppress those responses - instead opting to shake his head no. "Good."
Eyrwen leaned once more against her weapon as she spoke, resting her free hand more casually on her hip. "Now, I want you to hit me as hard as those young arms of yours can manage."
His head throbbing as much as it was, it took him a moment to fully comprehend what she had just said. When it finally did hit him, all he could do was to stare at her, his mouth slightly ajar with dumbfounded bewilderment. No matter how casual a stance she adopted, the thought of attacking her head on after what she had just did to him made wresting a Talderan Sabretooth seem like a safe career move. 'That aside...' He swallowed involuntarily, his heart racing in his chest as he gripped tightly at his sword with both hands. 'I know what she'll do to me if I don't do as she asks, and quickly.'
That was all the rationale his body needed to move forward. Both hands gripping at the hilt of his mighty wooden blade, he let out a cry, stepping forward as he brought the blade down toward Eyrwen's midriff with all the force he could muster. Her staff turned into a blur, and before Enoleus knew what had happened he felt sharp tendrils of pain exploding up his left leg, Eyrwen's swing catching him as he stepped forward - causing him to reel straight down onto his face again.
"Your swing was too wide, and you basically announced it by shifting your weight so far forward." Eyrwen gazed at Enoleus with stern eyes as he writhed around on the ground in pain.
'This woman is going to kill me...' Tucking his arms under his torso, his elbows would tremble from the effort as he pushed himself back up off the floor of the Stadium again, reaching over to pick his wooden sword from the ground as he stood. He wobbled, nearly teetering and falling back over as he lifted his weapon back up back to a ready position. Eyrwen would reach out with her Bo, gently nudging his blade so that it sat straighter and more aligned with his core. "Now, again. Try and hit me."
A moment passed where neither of them moved or spoke. Enoleus was still keenly aware of the other people in the Stadium; Icewatch members far too wrapped up in their own rigorous exercises to take note of or even care about Enoleus getting his green hide utterly handed too him. His fingers tightened nervously around the hilt of his blade, Eyrwen's Staff still extended and touching against the side of his blade. He could see numerous possible windows to strike at her with, windows which shrunk exponentially the longer he waited to make his strike.
The stillness shattered as Enoleus shoved his weapon to the side, pushing her staff away from her center as he stepped in, bringing the sword up in the same motion and slashing at her side with it. 'Ha!' His lips twisted into a grin involuntarily as the edge of his wooden blade neared Eyrwen's side. 'I got you this time!'
A loud crack would ring out, echoing in Enoleus' ears as his arms jarred with sudden force. His eyes would gradually widen, his mouth half agape with sheer disbelief.
'How... How could she have...?'
Eyrwen had spun her staff back around as it had been knocked away, slamming it back into the ground an inch from her flank - causing Enoleus' strike to land dead center against it. 'No... No way...' Enoleus' teeth began to grind with frustration as he pushed hopelessly against the hilt of his weapon, as if a little bit more force on his part would result in the strike going through.
Another loud crack would echo through the gym as Eyrwen brought the staff straight up, and Enoleus would find himself stumbling backwards, a hollow thunk resonating from in his chest as his back met the floor. Eyrwen twirled her weapon around again, bringing it back next to her in a neutral stance.
'This isn't... Exactly what I thought Sword training would be like...' Enoleus was near certain that he would wake up the following morning with bruises and sore spots galore, all across his body - and maybe that was a natural step that had to be taken in training, but he didn't really feel like had he had learned anything yet. Unlike before, where he had nearly immediately begun to move and try to get back to his feet, he opted to simply lay there on his back, the ceiling spinning around him as his eyes took on a dulled shade of silver.
'Let's face it... The only reason I even bought that damn Sword was because I wanted to strike out on my own...' Though Enoleus' expression remained blank, there was a deep sinking feeling spreading through his core. '...but I'm starting to really doubt I'm the adventuring type. All I want to do right now is limp to the Red Diamond and inebriate my pain away in the depths of a tankard.' Enoleus turned his head weakly to stare across the room at his Longsword, still sitting just where he had left it.
'What am I even doing with my life?' Enoleus let his head roll back to it's resting position, letting out a wistful sigh as he let his eyes slowly close. He had spent his childhood dreaming of Knights and Kings, of high adventure across foreign and exotic locations - but the dreams of his childhood seemed so far away now, pain and fatigue ebbing throughout every ounce of his body. Truth be told, he had wanted to learn combat because he was sick of feeling weak, but he wasn't so sure he really had a choice in the matter.
'The rabbit doesn't choose to be eaten by the wolf... And the wolf certain doesn't choose to be eaten by the Tiger.' Enoleus' eyes peeled open, though only halfway, as he lifted his right hand to his face to stare at it. Callouses had formed from the many hours he had spent days earlier with his newly purchased Longbow - an expensive decision he was beginning to feel a twinge of regret toward. 'No matter how many rabbits I chase down and kill, that doesn't change the fact that the tiger is still bigger and stronger than I am. I was born on this spot in the food chain, and it's juvenile to think otherwise.'
His trail of thought was shattered by the haft of Eyrwen's Bo coming down onto his chest. He let out a grunt, the sudden shock causing his eyes to open back all the way as he lifted his head to stare up at her.
"What are you doing, laying there with that defeated look on your face?" Eyrwen stared down at him, the sternness in her eyes replaced by genuine irritation. "You think you're the only one whose had a hard life? I've seen countless men and women cut down before their time. Many of whom were good friends of mine - honest, hard working Vani who dedicated themselves to serving this city and Lady Morwen." Eyrwen slowly pulled her staff away, tucking it against her chest as she folded her arms.
"I hate to say it kiddo, but everyone has hard times in their life. It's the people who can use that to their advantage who actually get somewhere. " Her eyebrows furrowed as she leaned over and extended a hand to Enoleus. "Now are you going to lay there feeling sorry for yourself, or get back on your feet and learn how to use that weapon of yours?"
Enoleus stared at her in awe. After his father had died and his sister had been taken, those who knew about it had given him a gamut of reactions. They had shown him pity, remorse, even great amounts of charity - and these had all alienated, and to some extent, even angered him. No amount of condolences or handouts could bring his family back to him, or ease the pain he had suffered. This, however - this was something entirely new to him: Anger. While it was highly unlikely Eyrwen was speaking directly about what had happened to his family, it his state of physical fatigue and mental confusion the words she chose cut straight to his heart.
It was exactly what he needed to hear.
He took the invitation, using his right hand to grab the hilt of his weapon and his right to pull himself up with her assistance. He was surprised to find how much strength he could muster, given the beating he had just received. Eyrwen brought her staff back down to a ready stance, nodding.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Enoleus hung his head slightly, his arms trembling as they lifted his sword back into position in front of him, both hands wrapped as tightly as he could around the hilt as he bore his teeth in a feral expression that seemed somewhere stuck between a smirk and a scowl. Eyrwen tilted her head to the side, one of her eyebrows arching up quizzically. “What’s with that look? Are you smiling at me, kid?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle, despite the situation. “You asked me why I decided to pick up the Longsword? The short answer is that I’ve lived far too much of my life feeling like I was weak; like I didn’t have any control over my own life. Yet here in this moment, the strength in my arms diminishing as I hold to this sword like it’s the last thing keeping me tethered to this world, I’ve never felt weaker.”
Eyrwen’s expression softened slightly as she brought her free hand over to her Bo, spinning it up over her head and moving it down to a more defensive posture covering her midriff. “Really? So why do you want to keep going, then?”
It was a good question, and to be honest, Enoleus wasn’t really sure how to respond. He knew he wanted out of Avanthal, he knew he wanted to find some greater, higher purpose to his existence – but beyond that, he couldn’t really say. His future had always seemed like a mass of gray clouds – constantly shifting, never holding any real discernible form for very long. “I…. I was there when my father was murdered. Probably no more than twenty feet away.”
Eyrwen seemed somewhat taken aback by this; a brief look of shock crossing her face before fading away again. Hell, it had even surprised Enoleus to hear those speak those words – words that were so near and dear to him to someone who was almost a complete stranger. Maybe it was the mixture of physical pain and desperation that had lowered that particular barrier, but even giving that little bit up had felt good, and he felt compelled to continue.
“I was armed. My father’s Tamo daggers had wound up in the snow in front of me, and I had them in my hands. I could have fought. I could have saved him, and my sister, too. But you know what I did instead?” Eyrwen made no response; showing no reaction of any kind as Enoleus continued.
“I hid, and then I ran. I was so scared of dying that I gave up the things that actually made life worth living.” Enoleus’ voice dropped to a near whisper, the boy’s voice shaking slightly as each word he spoke became more and more a struggle. He met Eyrwen’s gaze with fire and intensity, speaking through barred teeth.
“I can’t run anymore.”
x513 AV
9th Bell
The gym wasn't terribly busy, and the steady banging and muffled grunts of the Icewatch members hitting the weights and one another with wooden weaponry created a steady noise which padded out any silence left to linger in the air. Upon entering the Tundra Training Stadium, Enoleus had found himself immediately struck by the dedication of the Icewatch members - some of them had been meticulously engaged in their training for an entire bell, and in all likeliness had been at it for several bells before he even had arrived. Now, though, Enoleus was even more struck by Eyrwen, who had been gracious enough to agree to see to getting him started on his training.
"So, if you don't mind me asking, Enoleus," she began, resting part of her weight on her Bo Staff as she spoke. "What made you decide to pick up the Longsword?"
Enoleus had set his actual Longsword down, leaning nearby against a training dummy. He held a worn wooden one somewhat haphazardly in his right hand, and given the fidgety and awkward stance he was holding, it was blatantly obvious he hadn't the foggiest idea what he was doing with it. "Well, it's..." Enoleus stared down at the weapon, imagining in his mind it was the real thing. He thought about all the things he could say to her; his father being murdered or the several near death experiences that had touched him outside the walls of the city. A frown spread across Enoleus' face, who would brace the point of his wooden sword against the floor as his mouth continued to hang open speechlessly.
"Ah, well." Eyrwen smiled, sensing hesitation in his response. "That's not really what's important. What is important is that you're here now, and we get to work." She would lift her Staff up, her wrists and fingertips manipulating it with practiced ease as it spun and twirled about her form effortlessly. Enoleus watched her movements in awe, suddenly much more self-conscious about the haphazard manner he was gripping at his own sword. Still, he was here to learn, and he eagerly awaited instruction. 'I wonder what she'll have me do first? Practice on one of the dummies?' He rubbed at the stubble on his face with his free hand absently as he watched Eyrwen draw closer. 'Maybe start with basic stance and form?'
Enoleus was violently torn from his reverie by a sharp pain exploding from the side of his head. It was accompanied by a sharp cracking noise, and the next thing Enoleus knew the floor was rushing up to meet his face. He let out a sharp groan as he made impact with the ground, both his hands gripping at the side of his skull. "Nyrah! What'd you do that for?"
He was damn sure that his head had been knocked several feet from his body - it sure felt that way. Everything was a blur, pulsing in perfect time with the fire ringing about in his skull, yet he could still make out Eyrwen standing over him, a hand keeping his staff upright and at her side, and the other placed impatiently on her hip.
"Consider it your first lesson. Daydreaming like that with an opponent right in front of you can cost you dearly." Enoleus slowly rolled, bracing his weight on his arms as he picked himself back up - which was quite the feat, given how hard his head was pounding. Although he half expected another merciless thwack from Eyrwen's Bo to knock him right back to the floor, she simply continued her tirade, watching him get back up with stern eyes. "I've seen plenty of good men, three times your talent in combat, die because they got complacent and started letting their mind drift in dangerous situations." As Enoleus stood completely upright, Eyrwen would spin her staff around around in a fluid motion, angling it toward his chest.
Enoleus flinched, his weapon still on the ground, and the quickness of Eyrwen's movements giving him no time for a real reaction. However, instead of another strike, he felt Eyrwen jabbing softly at his chest with the end of her weapon. "I know your type. Mind always dancing about, thinking about the future or the past - never on where he is, or what he is doing. Understand me?" The tone in her voice as she finished made it blatantly obvious it wasn't really a question at this point, and was more along the lines of a demand - to which Enoleus was more than happy to acquiesce if it meant he could avoid the business end of Eyrwen's Bo. He nodded hastily, his mouth opening to try and formulate some kind of response.
"Your weapon." Enoleus slowly closed his mouth, tilting his head slightly in confusion. "My...weapon?"
All the air rushed painfully from Enoleus' body as Eyrwen jabbed him violently in the stomach with the butt of her staff, turning it back up and slamming it back down to the ground to hold it at the ready in one fluid motion. "Pick up your weapon!" Enoleus had nearly collapsed again, clutching at his midriff as he gasp desperately for air. He leaned over, grasping hurriedly for his wooden sword, before standing back upright and holding it awkwardly in front of him.
Eyrwen smiled, nodding as her eyes ran him up and down - appraising his stance. " See? Was that so hard?" The still somewhat less matured part of Enoleus' teenage brain quickly came up with several cheeky retorts, but the part of him still desperately trying to bring oxygen back into his body had the sagacity to suppress those responses - instead opting to shake his head no. "Good."
Eyrwen leaned once more against her weapon as she spoke, resting her free hand more casually on her hip. "Now, I want you to hit me as hard as those young arms of yours can manage."
His head throbbing as much as it was, it took him a moment to fully comprehend what she had just said. When it finally did hit him, all he could do was to stare at her, his mouth slightly ajar with dumbfounded bewilderment. No matter how casual a stance she adopted, the thought of attacking her head on after what she had just did to him made wresting a Talderan Sabretooth seem like a safe career move. 'That aside...' He swallowed involuntarily, his heart racing in his chest as he gripped tightly at his sword with both hands. 'I know what she'll do to me if I don't do as she asks, and quickly.'
That was all the rationale his body needed to move forward. Both hands gripping at the hilt of his mighty wooden blade, he let out a cry, stepping forward as he brought the blade down toward Eyrwen's midriff with all the force he could muster. Her staff turned into a blur, and before Enoleus knew what had happened he felt sharp tendrils of pain exploding up his left leg, Eyrwen's swing catching him as he stepped forward - causing him to reel straight down onto his face again.
"Your swing was too wide, and you basically announced it by shifting your weight so far forward." Eyrwen gazed at Enoleus with stern eyes as he writhed around on the ground in pain.
'This woman is going to kill me...' Tucking his arms under his torso, his elbows would tremble from the effort as he pushed himself back up off the floor of the Stadium again, reaching over to pick his wooden sword from the ground as he stood. He wobbled, nearly teetering and falling back over as he lifted his weapon back up back to a ready position. Eyrwen would reach out with her Bo, gently nudging his blade so that it sat straighter and more aligned with his core. "Now, again. Try and hit me."
A moment passed where neither of them moved or spoke. Enoleus was still keenly aware of the other people in the Stadium; Icewatch members far too wrapped up in their own rigorous exercises to take note of or even care about Enoleus getting his green hide utterly handed too him. His fingers tightened nervously around the hilt of his blade, Eyrwen's Staff still extended and touching against the side of his blade. He could see numerous possible windows to strike at her with, windows which shrunk exponentially the longer he waited to make his strike.
The stillness shattered as Enoleus shoved his weapon to the side, pushing her staff away from her center as he stepped in, bringing the sword up in the same motion and slashing at her side with it. 'Ha!' His lips twisted into a grin involuntarily as the edge of his wooden blade neared Eyrwen's side. 'I got you this time!'
A loud crack would ring out, echoing in Enoleus' ears as his arms jarred with sudden force. His eyes would gradually widen, his mouth half agape with sheer disbelief.
'How... How could she have...?'
Eyrwen had spun her staff back around as it had been knocked away, slamming it back into the ground an inch from her flank - causing Enoleus' strike to land dead center against it. 'No... No way...' Enoleus' teeth began to grind with frustration as he pushed hopelessly against the hilt of his weapon, as if a little bit more force on his part would result in the strike going through.
Another loud crack would echo through the gym as Eyrwen brought the staff straight up, and Enoleus would find himself stumbling backwards, a hollow thunk resonating from in his chest as his back met the floor. Eyrwen twirled her weapon around again, bringing it back next to her in a neutral stance.
'This isn't... Exactly what I thought Sword training would be like...' Enoleus was near certain that he would wake up the following morning with bruises and sore spots galore, all across his body - and maybe that was a natural step that had to be taken in training, but he didn't really feel like had he had learned anything yet. Unlike before, where he had nearly immediately begun to move and try to get back to his feet, he opted to simply lay there on his back, the ceiling spinning around him as his eyes took on a dulled shade of silver.
'Let's face it... The only reason I even bought that damn Sword was because I wanted to strike out on my own...' Though Enoleus' expression remained blank, there was a deep sinking feeling spreading through his core. '...but I'm starting to really doubt I'm the adventuring type. All I want to do right now is limp to the Red Diamond and inebriate my pain away in the depths of a tankard.' Enoleus turned his head weakly to stare across the room at his Longsword, still sitting just where he had left it.
'What am I even doing with my life?' Enoleus let his head roll back to it's resting position, letting out a wistful sigh as he let his eyes slowly close. He had spent his childhood dreaming of Knights and Kings, of high adventure across foreign and exotic locations - but the dreams of his childhood seemed so far away now, pain and fatigue ebbing throughout every ounce of his body. Truth be told, he had wanted to learn combat because he was sick of feeling weak, but he wasn't so sure he really had a choice in the matter.
'The rabbit doesn't choose to be eaten by the wolf... And the wolf certain doesn't choose to be eaten by the Tiger.' Enoleus' eyes peeled open, though only halfway, as he lifted his right hand to his face to stare at it. Callouses had formed from the many hours he had spent days earlier with his newly purchased Longbow - an expensive decision he was beginning to feel a twinge of regret toward. 'No matter how many rabbits I chase down and kill, that doesn't change the fact that the tiger is still bigger and stronger than I am. I was born on this spot in the food chain, and it's juvenile to think otherwise.'
His trail of thought was shattered by the haft of Eyrwen's Bo coming down onto his chest. He let out a grunt, the sudden shock causing his eyes to open back all the way as he lifted his head to stare up at her.
"What are you doing, laying there with that defeated look on your face?" Eyrwen stared down at him, the sternness in her eyes replaced by genuine irritation. "You think you're the only one whose had a hard life? I've seen countless men and women cut down before their time. Many of whom were good friends of mine - honest, hard working Vani who dedicated themselves to serving this city and Lady Morwen." Eyrwen slowly pulled her staff away, tucking it against her chest as she folded her arms.
"I hate to say it kiddo, but everyone has hard times in their life. It's the people who can use that to their advantage who actually get somewhere. " Her eyebrows furrowed as she leaned over and extended a hand to Enoleus. "Now are you going to lay there feeling sorry for yourself, or get back on your feet and learn how to use that weapon of yours?"
Enoleus stared at her in awe. After his father had died and his sister had been taken, those who knew about it had given him a gamut of reactions. They had shown him pity, remorse, even great amounts of charity - and these had all alienated, and to some extent, even angered him. No amount of condolences or handouts could bring his family back to him, or ease the pain he had suffered. This, however - this was something entirely new to him: Anger. While it was highly unlikely Eyrwen was speaking directly about what had happened to his family, it his state of physical fatigue and mental confusion the words she chose cut straight to his heart.
It was exactly what he needed to hear.
He took the invitation, using his right hand to grab the hilt of his weapon and his right to pull himself up with her assistance. He was surprised to find how much strength he could muster, given the beating he had just received. Eyrwen brought her staff back down to a ready stance, nodding.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Enoleus hung his head slightly, his arms trembling as they lifted his sword back into position in front of him, both hands wrapped as tightly as he could around the hilt as he bore his teeth in a feral expression that seemed somewhere stuck between a smirk and a scowl. Eyrwen tilted her head to the side, one of her eyebrows arching up quizzically. “What’s with that look? Are you smiling at me, kid?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle, despite the situation. “You asked me why I decided to pick up the Longsword? The short answer is that I’ve lived far too much of my life feeling like I was weak; like I didn’t have any control over my own life. Yet here in this moment, the strength in my arms diminishing as I hold to this sword like it’s the last thing keeping me tethered to this world, I’ve never felt weaker.”
Eyrwen’s expression softened slightly as she brought her free hand over to her Bo, spinning it up over her head and moving it down to a more defensive posture covering her midriff. “Really? So why do you want to keep going, then?”
It was a good question, and to be honest, Enoleus wasn’t really sure how to respond. He knew he wanted out of Avanthal, he knew he wanted to find some greater, higher purpose to his existence – but beyond that, he couldn’t really say. His future had always seemed like a mass of gray clouds – constantly shifting, never holding any real discernible form for very long. “I…. I was there when my father was murdered. Probably no more than twenty feet away.”
Eyrwen seemed somewhat taken aback by this; a brief look of shock crossing her face before fading away again. Hell, it had even surprised Enoleus to hear those speak those words – words that were so near and dear to him to someone who was almost a complete stranger. Maybe it was the mixture of physical pain and desperation that had lowered that particular barrier, but even giving that little bit up had felt good, and he felt compelled to continue.
“I was armed. My father’s Tamo daggers had wound up in the snow in front of me, and I had them in my hands. I could have fought. I could have saved him, and my sister, too. But you know what I did instead?” Eyrwen made no response; showing no reaction of any kind as Enoleus continued.
“I hid, and then I ran. I was so scared of dying that I gave up the things that actually made life worth living.” Enoleus’ voice dropped to a near whisper, the boy’s voice shaking slightly as each word he spoke became more and more a struggle. He met Eyrwen’s gaze with fire and intensity, speaking through barred teeth.
“I can’t run anymore.”