Ollowyn’s injuries had healed over the last few weeks. But while his physical wounds were all but gone, Thasun had scarred him emotionally. The pack leader, that he respected so much, had left him behind, just like that!

First Ollowyn had believed the word “I will be back, wait here for me.”, but the behavior of the other humans had made it clear that would not be the case for a long time.

After days of waiting and realising that he had been left here, Ollowyn had looted his comfortable sleeping spot and moved out of the house. A wooden shack at the edge of the estate served now as his shelter. Some of the humans had tried to convince him to move back in, but Ollowyn enjoyed to sleep under the open sky whenever the opportunity presented itself and loved to feel the wind in his hair while sleeping.

The pack that lived in this huge house was odd. Every day teenagers and young adults, that were all clad in the same white robes, left the estate to run and return with all sorts of things. Some applied themselves as craftsmen and fixed holes in the roofs or the paved paths that led through the large garden and connected the six large buildings. Everything was protected by a surrounding, three meter tall stone wall that resembled the walls of a fortress.

Every evening the pack either increased the size of the wall by adding material, started working on foundations for watchtowers or simply added in beauty by carving drawings into the wall. Ollowyn usually left the estate as early as possible to hunt before sunrise. If he caught too much game, he left the bigger part of his prey at the door of the pack leader. Mainly to be on good terms and to keep his sleeping spot, as he was not a member of their pack.

Every day he remembered and reiterated the teachings that Thasun had left him. The language, every word that he knew and even the sword fighting techniques that he was able to remember. Well, all but the styles of master Iordai. Those were too dangerous for him and he would not dare try them again. He would risk truly crippling himself otherwise.

While striving through the woods, he used branches and sticks that resembled the weight and size of a katana. First he noticed that using such a weapon for extended durations of time was harder than he had thought. Even his robust hands gained callus. Although he had used them to handle rough work all his life he was not spared from this experience.

After practicing the forms and movements he remembered for hours and hours, he transitioned to use the sticks on something solid. Ollowyn noticed that it was far harder and required much more skill than he had initially thought. While hitting air, he may have used his muscles but it was in no way comparable to a situation where every hit sent a sharp sting down his arm once his stick hit the target.

His target being a young oak tree about a meter in width. And even though pain soon crawled up in his arms to stay, he continued. After many days and hundreds of hundreds of broken tree branches that he had shattered on the tree, his target fell victim to the continued abuse.

It was very satisfying to have brought down the tree all by himself. It invigorated him and with the feeling that he had gotten stronger, Ollowyn decided to return to the pack he lived with. He wanted to challenge them. Wanted to know the current location of his pack leader to track him down alone.

After all, who could teach him if not Thasun? Maybe the humans would know where he was? Ollowyn climbed the Wall casually using rifts and the irregularities between the stones, that made the wall more of a decoration that an actual obstacle.

On top of the wall he looked over the estate again. Five of the buildings seemed rather silent and abandoned, while muffled noises resounded from the central building. Ollowyn had only entered one of the buildings before and only when he had been treated for his injuries. It would be the first time for him to enter one freely. What were they doing in there anyway?

After jumping off the wall, rolling off the ground in a singular fluid motion he crossed the garden and spotted something that let his heart beat faster: two of the teenagers entered the building with swordlike sticks!

Did Thasun teach some of the people here as well? Maybe they would teach him something? To help him improve? Ollowyn wanted to study and learn as much as possible to be able to fight as well as his pack leader had.

But a nagging thought in the back of his head appeared. Why only learn? Why not fight and study them that way? In his first pack and former family, he had fought constantly to maintain his rank and position within the pecking order. Yes, he would do that.

When he strode towards the entry however, he realised that a thin wall of wood and paper blocked his entry. Ollowyn did not have the slightest clue, as to how he could enter the building. Pushing slightly revealed that it was not the sturdiest of barriers, so he decided to just rip through the paper and enter there. He tore at it and a second later the opening was big enough for him to fit through, so he entered happily.

Only to be stared at by dozens of puzzled and confused faces. The large hall, entirely built of wood, was full of teenagers, young adults and swordsmen. Every single one of them carried a bamboo sword.

Ollowyn’s instincts told him that he should run away. But at the same time this feeling got him excited. He wanted to fight. Fight like his pack leader had done.

Quickly one of the older men was next to him and shouted at him. “Why are you destroying the sliding door? Huh? What were you thinking?”

Ollowyn thought a lot of things, but he did not really understand the question and what was a sliding door?

Since it was even harder to speak than to understand the language, he decided to make it short: “Fighting?”

He raised his “wooden sword” that was more of a tree branch without leaves than anything else.

The man, that lacked any sort of fur or hair on his head, eyed him sceptically. “Not like that, boy.” He sighed. “Follow me.”

Ollowny was happy that he was able to convey the meaning of his visit and tagged along. In a small dressing room next door his linen shirt was taken from him. He really hoped that he would get it back later. It was his and Thasun had gifted it to him!

“Huh. Could have sworn you were dirtier days ago. Did you bath?”

Ollowyn growled at the word, in the hope the topic would be dropped quickly. The boy had noticed that if he just jumped in the local river, the other humans would never try to bath him in that disgusting smelly water.

The man sighed. “Alright, alright. Here. Put these on.”

Ollowny was handed a white robe, like those the other students were wearing and eyed carefully before he was handed a bamboo sword that fit his size.

Happily Ollowyn gave away his own “sword” and put on the clothes. They felt weird, but even though they pinched a bit, especially on his legs where he was not used to wear anything, it was not bad. His movement was not constricted much and even though he would rather not wear anything at all, the pack here for some reason were very strict on that so it would keep their nagging off his back now. Maybe they would even stop trying to bath him forever?

Silently he followed the bald man back towards the training hall, where all the students were sitting silently with closed eyes.

“Sit down here. Since it is your first day, I will teach you how to meditate.”

Ollowyn tilted his head. Whatever madi-medida- .. that was, it didn’t look like it would be helpful? “Fighting.” He said again, raising his bamboo sword.

A few students eyes him interestedly. Apparently he had left a lasting impression.

Ollowyn stared around the group, where everyone was significantly older than him. Would someone here fight him?

The bald man sighed. “Ah, well. Alright. Mephian! Come over.”

A boy, approximately thirteen years of age, rose and stepped towards them. His dark, black hair right next to Ollowyn made them look like exact opposites were it not for the fact that Ollowyn was much smaller. Light and Shadow.

“Yes, master Zartha?” he said.

The bald man eyed the boy strictly. “You will have a spar with him. Test his abilities so I can gauge how far along he is. Don’t destroy him quickly and methodically like you were taught to. He is a beginner.”

“Yes, master.”

Ollowyn had not understood most of their conversation. But this would clearly be his opponent. One that he was allowed to fight. That was all he needed to know. The boy showed a cocky grin, like Thasun had done so often before a fight. Did he teach that boy too?

Ollowny nodded politely and distanced himself a few steps before raising his bamboo sword. It was much lighter than the ones he had trained with in the forest.

However that did not mean that being hit by this weapon was not going to hurt. His opponent also nodded to signal his readiness. Ollowyn did, what his pack leader had always done. He attacked without any hesitation. With a quick dash forward he brought his blade from the bottom towards the body of his opponent. Who playfully deflected.

Puzzled Ollowyn tried again only to have the scenario repeat. Why was he not able to hit him?

A third time he returned to his original position and brought his entire body weight behind his attack, carefully observing. Another easy deflection, but this time he caught the problem. Mephian used a style very similar to his own. His weapon was also led from below, which made it far easier to deflect Ollowyns attack towards the upper right or left side.

“Haha, good. Good!” Ollowyn exclaimed in joy. He learned something new, just as he had hoped.

Mephian eyed him with a frown, while Ollowyn imitated Thasun’s stabbing stance, that had burned itself into his mind. The following dash he had practiced hundreds of times and he executed it flawlessly. Only to have his opponent counter him with a dash of himself.

Mephian’s bamboo sword hit him painfully in the middle of his face. The impact made Ollowyn stagger backwards. A follow up strike against his right shin twisted his stance and made him fall.

He reacted instinctively and raised his sword to intercept a strike from above. That never came. In exchange the bamboo sword was led with full force in stabbing motion against his thorax. Angry about his own failings Ollowyn hit his opponent's sword away and tried to attack again. A multitude of strikes rained down on him while he stood up. He attacked weakly and disorientated as well as clouded by his anger.

His face began to swell up, he was not able to see anymore. A state that Mephian relentlessly abused. Ollowyn soon realized that every motion he made, brought new openings that his opponent could exploit. Another thing he learned. The anger subsided and he focused.

Defense… Yes. He mimicked Koltor’s defensive position, since he had never seen Thasun showcase any. The sword raised above his head he waited.

When the bamboo sword hit the blind Ollowyn on the top of his head again, he grit his teeth, stepped forward and brought his own weapon down with all his might at the position he assumed Mephian in. And his tactic worked. The bamboo swords collided above his opponents head. Blocked. Mephian was really quick. But he did not have the strength that Ollowyn had trained for all this time. “Urgh!” He groaned, before Ollowyn brought him to his knees and the sword knocked him out with a hard hit.

Then Ollowyn’s already impaired vision faded even more. He had been hit too much. But he had beat that boy. Smiling, he did not notice anymore that master Zartha caught him falling.

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Zartha never had seen such immense talent. The boy, that Thasun had brought back, was able to use the broad strokes of the Iordai fighting style without being trained in them at all. Even Mephian, a quite talented child was only able to use them after years of training and repetition. Not to mention that he had been knocked out by a single, powerful strike. That had been blocked. Such power in such a young child!

Zartha moved to kneel in front of the sanctum and groveled. “Great master. We have indeed received a very promising student. Master Torréi has reported this already I presume?”

The great master said something and handed a scroll with instructions to Zartha. The bald man made a concerned face. “Are you certain, great master? Certainly master Torréi had different-”

With another order he was silenced and he took the scroll.

“Forgive my insolence. I did in no way intend to question your wisdom, great Master.” Then master Zartha left the sanctum.

The thought that the old man was gradually getting more senile, stayed with him for the rest of the evening. Thoughtfully he eyed the small shack, in which he had brought the little genius to sleep. Poor Ollowyn, he thought.