Training Day (Trenton/Pm for Entry)
Jul 26, 2018 8:44:15 GMT -6
Post by Trenton on Jul 26, 2018 8:44:15 GMT -6
As Zane complimented Trenton, suggesting that he had a talent, Trenton felt like he could fly. Never had he been so graciously bestowed the honor of having a talent. He knew he was going to practice every spare moment that he had from now on.
As Eric shooed him from the field, he scrambled to his wobbly feet, realizing just how exhausted his whole body felt. He had no idea that using magic was that draining. When he trotted passed the guild leader, he detected a smile on the man’s face- a smile at him. At that moment, he felt he could now die happily, and as he joined the crowd, he knew he was blushing. He hoped no paid him any mind and that they were too busy focusing on Zane.
Trenton remained in the front row as he was shorter than most of them. He had forgotten all about the soup bubbling in the cauldron, and he was completely immersed by the activity before him.
After Eric announced that he would be Zane’s final opponent, Trenton’s jaw dropped. There was no way Zane could beat him. No one in the guild could beat Eric. Trenton desperately hoped that Zane becoming a mercenary was not dependent on beating Eric.
Trenton watched eagerly, leaning forward, as Zane rushed their leader. Just as he came close enough for contact, Zane seemed to dance around his opponent, and Trenton wondered why. The guild leader hadn’t made a move unless he missed it. Trenton was sure that had to be it. His observational skills weren’t the best, and he must have missed Eric’s movement.
Trenton gasped as Zane fell backward by an unseen force. He wondered if Eric had used magic, or if he had move so quickly that his terrible eyes missed it again. He rubbed his green eyes as if he could wake them up and make them see better.
As Eric began to speak to Zane upon the conclusion of the match, Trenton felt a sharp pain in his ear as he was dragged through the crowd and toward the bubbling cauldron of soup. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” he cried before his ear was released and he was shoved in the direction of the cauldron. Some of the soup was bubbling over the sides.
“Who said you could leave your post?” his mother asked crossly, and Trenton slumped back over to the soup, plopping his tome on top of his bag. As his mother continued her verbal lashings, he stirred the soup and realized with a sinking feeling that some of it was now burned to the bottom. He would spend plenty of time and elbow grease cleaning it later.
“I don’t think you realize the insult you just gave to Zane!” she said furiously. “Do you think he is unworthy of becoming a mercenary?”
Trenton looked to his mother in alarm and confusion. “Not at all!” he shouted. “I think Zane will make a great mercenary.” He then added lowly, “I just wanted to show him what I could do.”
“You picked the perfect time!” she exclaimed sarcastically before pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “I don’t understand, Trenton, how you can grow up here and still not understand our customs. You’ll be lucky if Zane ever forgives your insult.”
Trenton remained quiet as his good mood plummeted to the ground and his face and ears turned red. He hadn’t realized his challenge was insulting, and his stomach churned at the thought of Zane being furious with him.
Melissa then looked at the tome beside Trenton and grimaced. “Trenton, you’re a nice kid, but you aren’t a mercenary, you’re not even a fighter and you don’t have the brains to be a tactician. Give it up,” she gestured to the book, “before you get yourself- or someone else- killed.” She then heaved a heavy sigh. “Get ready to serve everyone.” She then stalked off toward her hut. He supposed he couldn’t impress everyone. At least he had managed to get a smile from Eric.
As Eric shooed him from the field, he scrambled to his wobbly feet, realizing just how exhausted his whole body felt. He had no idea that using magic was that draining. When he trotted passed the guild leader, he detected a smile on the man’s face- a smile at him. At that moment, he felt he could now die happily, and as he joined the crowd, he knew he was blushing. He hoped no paid him any mind and that they were too busy focusing on Zane.
Trenton remained in the front row as he was shorter than most of them. He had forgotten all about the soup bubbling in the cauldron, and he was completely immersed by the activity before him.
After Eric announced that he would be Zane’s final opponent, Trenton’s jaw dropped. There was no way Zane could beat him. No one in the guild could beat Eric. Trenton desperately hoped that Zane becoming a mercenary was not dependent on beating Eric.
Trenton watched eagerly, leaning forward, as Zane rushed their leader. Just as he came close enough for contact, Zane seemed to dance around his opponent, and Trenton wondered why. The guild leader hadn’t made a move unless he missed it. Trenton was sure that had to be it. His observational skills weren’t the best, and he must have missed Eric’s movement.
Trenton gasped as Zane fell backward by an unseen force. He wondered if Eric had used magic, or if he had move so quickly that his terrible eyes missed it again. He rubbed his green eyes as if he could wake them up and make them see better.
As Eric began to speak to Zane upon the conclusion of the match, Trenton felt a sharp pain in his ear as he was dragged through the crowd and toward the bubbling cauldron of soup. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” he cried before his ear was released and he was shoved in the direction of the cauldron. Some of the soup was bubbling over the sides.
“Who said you could leave your post?” his mother asked crossly, and Trenton slumped back over to the soup, plopping his tome on top of his bag. As his mother continued her verbal lashings, he stirred the soup and realized with a sinking feeling that some of it was now burned to the bottom. He would spend plenty of time and elbow grease cleaning it later.
“I don’t think you realize the insult you just gave to Zane!” she said furiously. “Do you think he is unworthy of becoming a mercenary?”
Trenton looked to his mother in alarm and confusion. “Not at all!” he shouted. “I think Zane will make a great mercenary.” He then added lowly, “I just wanted to show him what I could do.”
“You picked the perfect time!” she exclaimed sarcastically before pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “I don’t understand, Trenton, how you can grow up here and still not understand our customs. You’ll be lucky if Zane ever forgives your insult.”
Trenton remained quiet as his good mood plummeted to the ground and his face and ears turned red. He hadn’t realized his challenge was insulting, and his stomach churned at the thought of Zane being furious with him.
Melissa then looked at the tome beside Trenton and grimaced. “Trenton, you’re a nice kid, but you aren’t a mercenary, you’re not even a fighter and you don’t have the brains to be a tactician. Give it up,” she gestured to the book, “before you get yourself- or someone else- killed.” She then heaved a heavy sigh. “Get ready to serve everyone.” She then stalked off toward her hut. He supposed he couldn’t impress everyone. At least he had managed to get a smile from Eric.