"...a blade wielded with lightness, concentration and technique can be faster than wind or water, but to find that state, you need to be in balance. Always keep your sword at your side and make it part of your body. Keep your heart at peace and make it your main weapon. Strengthen your meditation this week. Dismissed."
The teenagers got up and hurried out of the room. Master Rhano's lessons demanded a lot from the short attention spans of teenagers at that age.
"I hope that in my day I didn't leave your meditation class so noisily." - said the monk as he entered the room.
Rhano's contained laughter confirmed the opposite.
"There's no doubt the attack on that village up north has made them more agitated, but the last few years of training are the hardest. They think they need to practice their movements, their agility, their blows, but all this has already been taught. They are too young to understand what they really need to dedicate themselves to from now on.
"Maybe I need to go back to your classes. Quel's initiation is in two weeks." - Zer's voice carried the weight of the moment.
Rhano looked at the monk with compassion and said: "The storms. I can see them in you. Let's walk."
As they left the room in the direction of the outer courtyards, Rhano led them behind the training arenas.
"Have you ever heard of an apprentice called Ghraul?"
The name was unknown to Zer.
"This happened before your initiation. The boy arrived here malnourished and seemed to have come from a long way away. I believe he was sent here as a way of surviving, he never heard from his family again. Despite his apparent fragility, the boy had a lot of drive, and I promised myself that I would make him more than just a survivor."
That feeling was familiar to the monk listening.
"It turned out that Ghraul was both hard-working and talented. His skill with the sword was far beyond the ordinary, and that fascinated me. I trained him mercilessly, until his fingers bled, and he responded. My affection and admiration for his performance distracted me from the fact that he made dubious choices when it didn't involve the sword."
Leaving the training area, Rhano led them down a path towards the cafeterias.
"He used his talent to set himself above the rest. The few friends he had were more interested in not displeasing him than actually having his company. I was blind to his arrogance and only realized it too late."
Entering the cafeterias, the pair grabbed a cup of tea and sat down at the end of one of the large tables in the almost empty hall.
"A year before he finished his training, he decided to leave. He said he had received an invitation to join an elite force of an army in the North and that he would be leaving the next day. His petulance was such he didn't even consider that it wouldn't be allowed."
Zer bowed his head and said in a whisper: "But Rhano, we don't pass on invitations to apprentices. And we're very careful about the kind of offers that young graduates receive."
"I know. To this day I've never figured out how that invitation, with a mysterious crest, got directly into his hands. It didn't go through any master, and it was addressed with his name."
The old man looked down, as if he could once again feel the disappointment and sense of helplessness, he had felt in that conversation with Ghraul.
"It can't have been easy to let him go." - and imagined the day when Quel would also leave.
"Do you think we'll allow it?" - Before he could continue, a powerful voice shouted from the other side of the cafeteria.
"Master Zer! I was looking for you!" - the burly woman, dressed in navy blue from head to toe, walked quickly towards the two holding a package. The Head of Administration of the village had firm steps, a haughty posture, and carried a scar from her cheek to her chin that almost disappeared with the sweetness of her smile.
"Has something happened to Quel, Ramira?" - Zer said, startled.
With a quick nod to the masters, Ramira placed the package on the table and opened it.
"She keeps playing outside. But the helpers were devastated by her sadness, so a boy from the textile house made this two-week calendar so that she can keep track of the time until her initiation." - And she gave a huge smile, lifting the piece to show it off.
It was a lacy fabric around the edges with two hooks at the top and fourteen small compartments divided into two rows in the middle.
"The kitchen staff have prepared 14 cookies, one in each pocket. So, every morning she wakes up, eats a cookie and knows that when she eats the last cookie, the big day has arrived!" - Ramira was overjoyed with the piece. "Can we give it to her?"
Zer picked up the piece, delighted with the speed with which it had been produced, and glanced at Rhano, knowing what his old master thought.
"You need to stop spoiling her, Ramira, but yes, you can deliver. She'll love it, and it will help contain her anxiety over the next few days. I hope so."
After returning the cloth calendar to the woman, Zer turned to Rhano to continue listening to the story, but the monk was already getting up.
"You, as always, Ramira, are very generous." - and stopped his gaze on the administrator's face for a moment before turning to Zer: "I'm sure you don't want to miss this moment. Perhaps it will be the highlight of Quel's birthday. Let's go to the courtyard together." And he began to walk alongside Ramira.
It could just be a coincidence, but something told Zer that Rhano had taken advantage of the situation to avoid revisiting something that still hurt and decided to follow the pair out of the cafeteria.
The Tales of Greenfar are originally written in Portuguese. If you find any major mistakes, please be kind and let me know 🌻
🔖 New chapters every Friday!
Next chapter:
Chapter 7
As expected, the sparkle returned to Quel's eyes when she received the gift from Ramira. The girl looked like lightning as she rushed to hang the calendar on her bedside table and then fell asleep exhausted.
What has already happened in Greenfar:
Prologue: The beginning of Greenfar
Chapter 1: Alone in the forest
Chapter 2: Marks
Chapter 3: Zelas
Chapter 4: The Chosen Ones?
Chapter 5: Storms