CHARACTER: BLAKE BRENNAN
As a child I wasn't able to go outside or play with other children. I was kept close to the breast and it was something I had to learn to live with. My only escape was through reading, luckily my family's library was of substantial size that I never read the same book twice. The books I enjoyed the most were heroic tales and legendary heroes who slay the dragon, rescue beautiful maidens in distress and come home to a cheering crowd. Often times, in those moments just before sleep takes you, I would fantasize that I was the hero in those stories. I would play out these battles in my head where I'd be slashing my sword in shining armor and save the town from whatever evil had befallen them. It may seem childish but that was the driving force behind me as I grew up, I wanted to be that hero. When my father told me I would be instructed in the way of the sword I thought that this was just the beginning of my own tale of legend. So I became the best pupil I could be, I was trained in the physical aspects of fighting but I also sought out literature on wars and battle strategy, in my own mind I was going to be something more then the role I was born into.
Several days ago I did get the chance to participate in my first battle. It wasn't something I went charging into with my sword held high, instead I stumbled upon it and in it. I don't recall ever reading how loud an actual battle is in the stories, all I could hear was the beating war drums of the Centaurs, my heart raced to match that tempo as I fought. When I was being taught to fight I was knocked to the ground on more then one occasion, I took this as a learning tool and got right back up. I soon learned that in a real fight that when you're knocked down, getting back up in itself is a struggle. What seemed like days was only but a time span of several hours, every second I could feel myself getting weaker as my sword was getting heavy. I had jumped into this fight without really even thinking, soldiers were attacked and being attacked by Centaurs, so my feet just started sprinting to join before my mind could even contemplate what exactly I would be joining in on. The officer in charge kept shouting just one order, "Hold the line, hold the line", he kept yelling this over and over until a Centariun spear head pierced his throat. This was the first death I had ever seen in this manner, I couldn't tear my eyes away as it watched the red liquid pour from his neck all over his body before he fell over into the dirt. Some how we managed to hold the line, when reinforcements arrived and drove the horde back all I wanted to do was cheer, however I couldn't find my voice. My hands, armor, every inch of me was covered in blood. Some of it my own, the rest a mix of those that fell beside me and the beasts that fell by my hand.
The worst part of it all wasn't watching as men and women fell or hearing their cries of pain. The worst was the feeling of thrill and excitement from my heart as it pounded against my chest. My body moved on it's own using the beat of my own heart as it's tempo. Action and reaction took over, I wasn't in control and yet I liked it. I am so far from the heroes of those stories I once read. They were noble, honorable and decent men who didn't enjoy taking another's life. I guess I am finding out what kind of man I truly am with my time away, for that I should be grateful as one should always be true to ones self.
I am back in the city with a new set of armor. It's from the same maker as my previous but this time a bit darker so as it won't stain. I do have an appointment, well date, appointment, a kinda date... a meeting arranged to meet with the Countess before she leaves the city. She mentioned in her last letter that it may be for awhile and I can't help but think it may be the last time I have the privilege of her company. Whether her own path steers well clear of mine, or my own adventures take a turn for the worst, it's a feeling that I can't shake. I am looking forward to speaking with her again and trying to keep up. I wonder if I should mention that it doesn't take many drinks to get light headed, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady out drink me? Perhaps a drunk one.
No comments:
Post a Comment