After hours of torture, we could finally call it quits and relax a bit. Vincent wasn’t too bad, compared to the bandits I usually fight. His fighting style was much more refined and more centered on accuracy rather than brute force. However, that meant we were equals. He fought with a regular medium-length broadsword while I used the rapier. My lunges and parries verses his swipes and dodges. It was a very interesting match indeed. Even Gin commented that I had met my equal and should start respecting proper swordsmen. I had no response.
Ayla asked us to return our weapons and take a break. She said that we would need the energy for the next practice round: magic.
At least I might be a bit better at that…
As soon as we were “released”, I dashed over to my pack to ckeck on my instruments, seeing as how another group got a little too close to them. Yep, they were still intact. I let out a sigh of relief – for I’m quite the sigher, as you’ll see – and extracted my wooden flute. My favorite instrument and the only thing left my home.
“You play the flute?” Vincent plopped down in the shade next to me.
“Yeah, I’m a traveling minstrel by trade, and the flute in the instrument I usually play, even though I have others.”
“Play something then. I’d love to hear it.”
Nodding, I began playing a sad tune, with overtones of hope. It was one I composed myself, out of the ruins of the disaster that left me nearly alone. As I was playing, I reflected on how I came to be here. The illness, the fights, the trials, all of them led me to this point. I may have had it rough, but hasn’t everyone?
I finished the song before I could reflect too much on the past and noticed I drew a small crowd. Not all unusual, but what really got me was Gin was glaring off in the distance. My calm Gin never glares.
Gin, what's up? Something wrong? I asked, while I was bowing to the clapping crowd.
Gin responded quickly and solmenly. He's coming. He's far off, but he's coming.
Shivers were sent up and down my back, despite the fact it was noontime in summer.
He was far off, and coming farther. I have to hurry. Before he gets to me.
