Flashback On the brink of adventure!

[Brandon Blackwing]

The 19th of Summer 512AV - Early morning Under his feet was only darkness. And the rope he stood on. Brandon swallowed as he imagined himself falling into the eternal darkness to the bottom of the cave. His grip on the stalactite tightened. His heart raced in his chest, eyes wide with fear. Every chime he clung to the conical rock felt like a bell. It took a while for the kelvic to muster up enough courage to let go of his support. He took a few deep breaths and stretched his arms to the sides. Okay, I can do this! With slow, uncertain steps he started walking down the silken rope. He had covered just about half of the distance between the next and previous stalactite when things started to go wrong. Alright almost there, Brandon thought. Then the rope slightly started swaying. The young man crouched down on the red, silken rope to lower his point of gravity. The swaying stopped. Close call! Good thing I do have some experience walking on cords. I would've fallen of if not for that nifty trick. And it's quite a deep fall. He snuck a quick glance to the darkness below. Bad move, the black hole that was the bottom of the cave now held his gaze captive. It seemed to pull him in. Harder and harder it dragged, until it was enough to disturb Brandon's balance. The lad was startled and fell off his place on the cord. A scream of agony left his mouth. However, his reflexes saved him. His arms were still outstretched when he dropped from the rope, and when his left hand touched the red line it quickly clasped around it. Brandon let out a sigh of relief and swung his right arm upwards, his other hand grabbing the cord as well. He tried pulling himself up, but as soon as his bellybutton got at the same height as the rope, it started shaking heavily. He groaned in frustration and curled his body until his legs were able to wrap around the silken line. I'll have to get home like this I guess. I'm not going to walk on that darned string of fabric again for a while. I've had my share of mortal fear for today. I know I wanted some thrill in my life, but this is too much! He sighed and clambered off, heading home. It had taken some time before Brandon finally arrived at home. The pear-shaped structure still looked weird to him. It appeared as if someone attached a large drip of milk to the ceiling of the cave. He hoisted himself up and entered. His family's home was on the large side, with the shop on the 'ground' level of the 'house'. His father stood behind the counter, speaking with a supercilious Symenestra. Although all Syms he'd met seemed to be that way. "Yes, of course. One roll of silk, and three of line. Oh, hi Bran!" His father's large moustache waved up and down every time he spoke. " 'Morning dad." "Right away? Well, no, that's not a problem. Are you sure you can take them with you all at once? They're kind of heavy." Brandon climbed the stairs to the upper floors of their home, leaving his father alone with his client. He let his gaze drift across the second floor. His mother didn't seem to be here. She was probably still sleeping. He would have to be careful not to wake her when he went upstairs. Tiptoeing up the stairs the lad reached the third floor. Moving as quietly as possible he snuck into his room and plopped down on his bed. He mused about the recent events. If they could be called that. Nothing had really happened. More like nothing ever happened. Well, except from his rope dancing adventures. That was the only thing he could think of that kept him busy and was pretty exciting to do at the same time. He wondered why his family decided to live here of all places. He disliked this place, even more so, he hated it. The Syms, the lousy food, the ropes that made up the streets,... Everything really. Well, not everything. He liked the location. The cave was really beautiful. But still... He folded his hands behind his head and let out a deep sigh. It contained a lot of frustration and helplessness. "I wish I could just leave," he said quietly.

[Brandon Blackwing]

The 25th of summer 512AV - Somewhat past the 18th bell Waking up, his small, dark eyes opened. It was pleasantly snug with his wings wrapped around his small body. The bat blinked a few times, dismissing the sleep. His ears took the sounds of footsteps and chatter in. Tingling noises. Time to get up. Or better said; down. He peeked at his bed. Good, it stood right below him, as it always had. Brandon breathed a few times deep in and out, nervous for what he was about to do. He'd never done it before, but he didn't feel like flying today. So he figured shifting to human form and landing on his bed would solve that problem. The shift happened instantly. A cocoon of light wrapped around him and changed his bat-like features into human ones. Wings turned into arms and claws into feet. In that very moment the bat had suddenly become human. With that, his feet were not able to anchor him to the beam he'd been hanging on the whole day. Quickly he shifted his position a little midway his fall. Now he wouldn't break his neck or skull when he came down. The slats of the bed snapped with a dry crack! when Brandon crashed down on the mattress. The bed itself still faced up, though. The mattress with the lad on top of it was now laying on the floor, surrounded by four wooden boards. It made the Kelvic think about himself resting in a coffin. The bed was clearly warning him never to do that stunt again. He got up and stepped out of the remains of the ruined object. Surely it wasn't broken for real, was it? He tilted the mattress to look at the wreckage that once was called a bed. Hm, totally destroyed. The slats were snapped in half and some were even splintered. Where would he sleep now? There were a number of solutions Brandon could think of. He could sleep on the mattress or the floor. The latter wouldn't be comfortable though. Another option was sleeping on the ceiling. He shrugged, it was a problem he'd think about later. Taking a few steps towards the door, his feet came into contact with some sort of cloth. Looking down he realized they were clothes. His clothes to be precise. He picked them up with a sigh and putted them on. His father would start nagging about it otherwise. The bat stumbled down the stairs in his typical manner. He was greeted by his parents the moment both his feet touched the floor. "Evening Brandon, did you sleep well?"his stepfather asked. "What was that noise just now, Bran?" questioned his mother. Brandon decided to act dumb. He'd rather not have his mother know he broke the bed. "Noise? What noise?" "That loud thump. It sounded as if someone did something stupid again." Unfortunately she was spot on. He kept his face as plain as possible. "Oh, that! Well, I kind of fell out of my bed..." It wasn't a complete lie. He did fall. Through his bed. But he hadn't been laying in his bed after the crash... He decided he had spoken the truth. His mother gave him a suspecting stare. She wasn't convinced, so much was clear. His father however, gave him something that probably was a smile. It was hard to tell with that way to big mustache of his. The ends of that moustache tilted slightly upwards and wrinkles emerged around the corners of his eyes. "Don't let her get to you son, you know how she is. Now, why don't you take a seat? We were just about to start dinner. Would you like to have..er..breakfast?"The man still found it confusing how Brandon's inner clock worked. The bat didn't mind though, as much as humans thought his routine was strange, he deemed theirs to be even weirder. Who the heck would want sleep at night? Night was the best time to be awake, the air is nice and moist. You can't be blinded by the sun,... "Yeah, sure. I was getting kind of hungry. What do we eat tonight?" On that moment his mother placed three bowls of red-ish pulp on the table. "Bruka."she answered. The bat made a disgusted face. "I'm not so hungry I could eat that"he complained "Couldn't you have prepared something eatable?" That comment was rewarded with a nasty scowl. "If there aren't any good ingredients I can't make a good meal!" "Nonsense! A great cook can make the best of meals using those ingredients!" "Listen, you darned brat,..!" "Now now, Lethia, Bran just complemented you." Brandon's stepfather turned his head towards the boy. "You did, right?" "Of course I did!"the bat said innocently. He enjoyed the joust of words he had with his mum every time again. Of course she did too. To outsiders it might look as if they were having an argument, but they were actually having a lot of fun. Although knowing this, Gallan -Brandon's stepfather- was always worried it would turn into a real fight. He didn't ever take part in the mock-bickering, but watched from the sidelines and quenched the heat when necessary. He gestured to get seated, grabbed a spoon and started gobbling down the red porridge. The bat had not a clue how he was able to do so. Just smelling the dish made his face twist in disgust. He sled the nearest chair backwards and sat down on it. His nostrils were too close to the bowl than he'd liked. To make things worse his sense of smell was, even in human form, many times better than a regular person's. He shot a quick glance at his mother. She was a Kelvic too, so he figured she wouldn't like the smell either. To his surprise she had placed her lips at the bowl and was gulping down the awful mush. She slammed the bowl back on the table with her right hand while wiping her face off with her left. Brandon noticed chills rolling down her spine. He chuckled. Well, at least she had the guts to pour it right into her throat. Staring at the bowl in front of him, the bat hoped it would empty itself if he gazed intense enough. Unfortunately, it didn't. He sighed. He'd miss his parents, but his mind was made up. "I want to leave." he informed them. "You can go into the city after you finished your breakfast." Lethia answered. He shook his head. The grizzly had misinterpreted his words. Intentionally? "I meant want to leave the city." "As in going away?" Gallan asked. "Yeah, like that." His father's face darkened. His mustache suddenly hung an inch lower. "But why?" Brandon shrugged "I just don't like it here."he replied. "Sure, no problem. You are free to go whenever you're ready." his mother said flatly. "Lethia!"Gallan puffed. "What? I left home when I was about his age too." "You lived in the wild! You were a bear!" "I still am," she remarked dryly. "That's not the point! You were prepared."His mustache waved up and down wildly "Bran is not. He hasn't left Kalinor even once!" The person in question decided it was time to interfere. "Hey, I have left this cave before, you know." "I know, but going out to hunt some bugs doesn't count Bran. You haven't really ventured out far. It's dangerous out there!" "I'll be fine, I am prepared. No need to worry." Lethia gave him a skeptical look. So did Gallan. "Oh? Well, let me ask you this then; where would you go to upon leaving this city?"the mustache billowed. The bat had no idea. He'd never given much thought. He opened his mouth, but no answer floated out of it. Slowly he sealed his lips. "Do you even know how to get to whatever place without getting lost? Navigation?" His lips did not move. Again he had no answer to the question his father asked. "Can you write? Or read?" "Why should I? I don't want to become a scholar or anything. I don't need to be able to read or write. I just want to leave, that's all." "Hah, you won't get far without those skills son. You'll need them a lot! There will be times you..." Gallan's sentence was cut off by Lethia. Until that moment she'd been standing there, arms crossed, seemingly lost in thought. When she parted her lips, she asked her son one sole question: "Can you hold your own in combat?" It was a simple query. The bat was confused by the simplicity of it. "I think so?" It was supposed to come out filled with self-confidence, but it sounded more like just another question. His mother raised an eyebrow. "So, you can't. I would've let you off the hook if you could. Honestly, those skills Gallan deems so useful are not that important." The small man nearly choked. "What? And why not if..." She hushed him with a small movement of her hand. "I understand your urge to leave, I really do, but I can't let you go like this. You will find yourself in various dangerous situations on your journey. If you cannot defend yourself, how will you ever be able to defend that person?" He understood. How could he not? Part of the reason he wanted to leave was to seek his bondmate. But if he were to die before he'd found that person, or if he'd fail to protect and support them, it would have all been for naught. He dipped his head in acknowledgement of his flaws. His mother nodded in approval. "I see you have realized this. So, in order for you to leave this place, you'll have to do some training." Training? If it would help in his journey, why not? Some extra combat experience won't hurt. Heh, he hadn't expected his mum to use solid arguments, but he was glad she did. What if he had begun his adventure without thoroughly preparing for it first? He didn't want to think about what the consequences could have been. "And in the meantime I can teach you a thing or two about the usefulness of reading and writing!" Brandon's stepfather said. Laugh lines appeared across his face. Lethia rolled her eyes. "Anyways, your training starts tomorrow morning. We will leave the city at the ninth bell, we'll meet at the gates. Be on time!" With that the black-haired woman stood up and left the room. Brandon fixed his gaze on the now cold bowl of Bruka. Reluctantly he shoveled the cold mush in his mouth. He had a feeling that he'd need all the strength he could gather from this meal tomorrow. [/color]

[Brandon Blackwing]

The 26th of Summer 512AV - a little before the 9th bell Dangling below the red cord, Brandon did not have the time of his life. Not at all. The sounds of Kalinor, so quiet by night, now almost deafened him. Also, the bat was really tired. He hadn't been able to get any rest. His biorhythm just didn't allow to sleep at night. The dark, deep bags right under his eyes were silent witnesses of his failed attempts to catch even the tiniest bits of sleep. Every fiber in his body screamed to go back home and take a good day's rest, but Brandon knew that his mother would kill him if he didn't show at the appointed time and place. He lessened his grip on the rope, moved his left hand forward and grabbed the cord again. He repeated these movements with his right arm, then with his left,... on and on. He had no choice but to move like that. The wall of sound that had been smashing his hearing since he left home gave him a headache. Everything was loud to him, but he had never experienced anything like this. To a normal person, the 'deafening wall of sound' was nothing more than the pleasantly humming of the city. Okay, he had been exaggerating quite a bit. It was not really that loud, but more as if everybody was yelling to him. The headache was real though. Because of that headache, his balance had been disrupted and he wasn't able to walk on the red strand that was the road. Slowly, the gates were getting into his view. It wasn't far anymore, which was a good thing since his arms were getting heavier with every chime. The rope was cutting in his fingers as well. Well, not really cutting, but it was getting harder not to let go and embrace the dark depths below the cave-city. After what felt like ages for Brandon's exhausted arms, he reached the gates. With one last effort he hoisted himself on the rocky surface. Getting up, the bat let a groan escape his throat. "What, tired already? We haven't even started yet." He didn't have to look to know that his mother was the owner of the voice just now. "Yeah, well I had a hard time sleeping tonight and..." "Ha! Making excuses are we?" Frustration shot over his face. He wasn't making excuses, it was the truth. Getting enough sleep was very important for his health. Mentally as well as physically. Footsteps told him that Lethia was walking away. "Are you coming? Or will you be idling around here all day instead?"She couldn't wait a chime, could she? He sighed and followed her, heading outside Kalinor's gates. The light was way too bright for Brandon's nocturnal eyes. All he could see was white. A vast nothingness of white. And it hurt. As soon as the white attacked his orbs, he closed them as fast as he could. Pinching his eyelids shut so no light could enter. Frowns emerged around his eyes as a result. Instead of white, all he could see now was red. What the? Why was the red inside his closed eyes? Did some of the light sneak in when he closed them? Was it destroying his orbs right now? Panic started to take over. His knees were shaking, his whole body was trembling. "Open your eyes, fool!" his mother demanded. "It's not like your eyes will lose their sight from just opening them by day, you know." What, he would lose his sight?! He didn't want that! He should've gone back home when his body urged him to. Now the sun would make him blind. "I said open them!" Her fist hit his stomach like a battering ram. His eyes flew open as the air left his lungs. His knees failed him and his face met the floor. Gasping for breath he rolled over on his back. The endless white filled his vision again. He couldn't see anything except that. Still in a state terror he wanted to close his eyes once more. However, he refrained from doing so because he didn't want to be stomped on by his mother for doing as well. After a while the whiteness became less and less bright, until he was able to see his surroundings. He was laying down on rocks, there were some boulders here and there. Some huge, others only reached the height of his knees. And then he saw it. The sky. Instead of being dark as it was at night, the sky was dyed a light blue. "It's blue..." he murmured. Ofcourse this was a chance his mother couldn't let go to waste. "What did you expect, dumbass? Did you think it was green?"Still gawking at the blue sky in awe he didn't even hear the comment she made. White clouds drifted past his vision, pushed by a warm breeze. He craned his head a bit more backwards. A bright ball hovering in the air occupied his sight. Although it was bright, he could not avert his gaze. It was truly magnificent. The ball emitted warm rays and seemed to reign the heavens. "What is that?" he inquired. "That's the sun, dear." "It's beautiful!" "It is..." A sharp pain stung the back of his head when his mother aimed a blow at it. The magical moment disappeared in an instant."Now enough with the sky-staring! It's time to train!"

[Brandon Blackwing]

The 26th of summer 512 AV- somewhat after the 9th bell Standing on the rocky underground, legs spread and slightly bent, the boy moved his underarms into a fighting position. His hands not clenched into fists, but his fingers curling inwards just a little. He saw his mother taking the same position. ”So, this is a basic fighting stance.” she said. “ It is a form also used in boxing, but then you make a fist.” ”Okay, but what’s the use? Can’t I just charge at my opponent and beat them up?” ”Sure, go ahead.” Something about the way she said it made Brandon suspicious. This was not like his mom at all. Usually she’d go like ‘No, you fool! If you do, you’d just give the enemy the advantage’ or something like that. It didn’t seem wise to just charge at his mother. No, he knew he’d regret it. He should listen to her first, respect the way she wanted to train him, and if it wasn’t useful he could just abandon the newly gained, purposeless knowledge. Seeing his reluctance to attack, a faint smile formed on Lethia’s lips. ”What, aren’t you going to charge at me? I thought you wanted to know what happened if one would do so? ” ”Nah, I’ve decided to give your training a chance first.” ”Darn, and I was going to try out that move on you… oh well.”Her muttering was followed by a shrug. Upon hearing the soft-spoken words he hadn’t been supposed to hear, the bat’s heart skipped a beat. That was close. Glad that he sorted things out before things turned bad, a smug grin played on his face. He was relieved he didn’t attack her rashly as he had been planning to do. He had not a clue what ‘that move’ was, but it didn’t sound good coming from his mom. ”Well then, let’s get started eh?” her voice let him know. She shambled up to him. Slowly placing one feet in front of the other. ”That’s the way you walk while in this stance. You’re in balance. Your arms are capable of defense and offence. You take in all the information about your opponent. Height, musculature, stance, determination. Make some feints to test your opponent. Gather even more information. His defense, is it hard to get through? His reaction speed. Does he counterattacks? The look on his face. His expression is very important. With all those things combined you can ,if you’re good enough yourself, make out if you’re dealing with a seasoned fighter or not.” She paused a moment to make sure he took in all these important pieces of information. Standing only three meters apart from each other, she looked into Brandon’s eyes. She saw he didn’t fully understand. In fact, she had already known she’d lost him when she started about gathering information. She sighed. ”Basically, you circle around your opponent, while observing him. In order to do that you need to fake some attacks. If you do so, and you are able to hide the fact that they’re feints well enough, your opponent will react. From his reaction you can gather a whole lot of useful information.” ”And that is important.” It was a statement to confirm if he’d gasped the core of the woman’s words. Her annoyed expression told him a whole lot. He noticed Lethia dropping her guard. A thought bubbled into his head. Why not put the theory to practice? He took a good look at his mother’s stance. Her legs were still slightly spread, knees bent. In balance. Her arms, however, were hanging uselessly by her side. The bat could smell a golden opportunity to show his mom he was able to defend himself. He focused, narrowing his eyes. Ears cocked, ready to transmit any sounds that would betray his mother’s movements to his brain. The muscles in his lower legs tensed. She was only three meters away. He could reach her within a tick. He took off, his body almost horizontally with the floor. His right arm swung towards her body, a straight punch aimed for her face. His fist was only one centimeter away from her nose when she suddenly disappeared. His eyes widened in bewilderment when his punch hit only air. How? What happened? She had been standing here just a tick ago, and then she vanished. How had she pulled that off? Where was she anyway? All those thoughts and many more raced through his head in that very moment. Suddenly his ears registered a thud-like noise behind him. He twisted his neck as fast and far as he could to get a glimpse of the source of the sound. Lethia somehow reappeared behind him and swept him of his feet. Falling down head first on the rocky underground wasn’t the most pleasant thing Brandon had experienced. Pain enveloped his skull and took over his body. Screams of torturing pain left his mouth while he grabbed his head and rolled a few times over. ”I told you, make a feint to elicit a reaction. Pretending to drop your guard is also a feint. You might have seen it coming if you’d looked into my eyes first. Everything is written in the eyes.” She continued her lesson as if nothing had happened. Although it was a harsh thing to do, she knew that this was the best way to teach combat skills. Making mistakes, painful mistakes, and learn from them. She was sure that Brandon, even though still writhing in pain, would absorb anything she’d teach him now. Subconsciously. His subconscious would take in all the important information and store it somewhere safe, to call upon when needed to prevent the bat from having to go through that pain again. ”That move just now was nothing more than a well-timed and executed sidestep. When done correctly the user seems to disappear and emerge on a different location, usually behind the target. Then I used a low spinning sweep kick to knock you off your feet.” Thinking for a few chimes, she paused, then spoke again. ”Your attack was good, but it needs more finesse. Also, you should try to control your body instead of just randomly throwing punches. If you did, you could’ve stopped when I sidestepped and countered my move.” During her feedback, Brandon had found the strength to get on his feet. His mother nodded approvingly. ”Now, time to teach you these techniques! No wait, I might have you build up more musculature though, there wasn’t really enough force behind your attack earlier. Plus, you’ll need them to withstand and block your foe’s attacks. But we can do that later. For now, let us begin with the stance again…”

[Brandon Blackwing]

The 29th of summer 512AV oocI've experimented a bit with dividing this post into alineas, so I hope this is an improvement. If not, well, too bad Dragging his body in a chair, Brandon felt miserable. His eyes were red from the labyrinth of veins that crisscrossed in the white of his eyes. If one could still call it white. The black bags right under his orbs had darkened and deepened. His headache had gotten worse and his body was dotted blue and brownish yellow. One of his eyes was swollen and black. Every muscle in his body ached when he moved. He limped as well. He plopped down on the seat with a loud, complaining groan. He rubbed his temples with his index fingers. His mother’s training seemed more like torture to him. After teaching him how to correctly execute a sidestep, sweeping kick and the basic stance, she had deemed it necessary to beat him up. All for the sake of training him to ‘withstand enemy attacks’. He bet she was just having fun, raining a barrage of punches on every available spot on his body. The next few days they didn’t continue the real combat training, noooo, she’d have him tensioning his muscles again and hit them as hard as she could. Bumps and bruises were the only thing he actually gained from the sessions. If that would’ve been all it wouldn’t have been this hard on the bat. However, upon seeing that he didn’t have enough musculature and strength, Lethia decided that he had to do some body building exercises in between the ‘How to turn your son into a kelvic punching bag’ –sessions. The torture schedule now listed one bell and thirty chimes of being his mother’s anger management tool and one bell of slavery. This was repeated about times per day of training. The bat sighed deeply. He’d known from the start that his mother’s lessons would be hard, but this… This was taking things to the extreme. He folded his arms on the table in front of him and let his head use them as a pillow. Fortunately, Lethia had given him a day off. A day to recover lost bells of sleep. His eyelids grew heavier and he gently closed them. Ah, sweet relaxation! “Get up, son, we have work to do!” The loud voice drew his attention. The hard noise of something heavy slamming on the table awakened him from his slumber. Confused his sleepy orbs looked up to a gigantic moustache. The ends of the hairy thing pointed slightly upward. A twinkle danced in the eyes of the man it belonged to. Laughing lines etched across the moustache owner’s face. “Study time!” the moustache waved. Brandon’s sleepy brain failed to understand the meaning of those words. “What..?” he yawned. The stepfather pointed at a voluminous book. “Since you got a day off I figured I’d teach you how to read and write.” “Didn’t mom say that I wouldn’t need them?” Gallan didn’t expect him to do intellectual stuff in his current state, did he? Although it would certainly help him to fall asleep, the knowledge would enter one and exit the other ear without Brandon even noticing he was being talked to. It would be impossible to teach him something like reading when his eyes were too heavy to open. Gallan looked eager to try though. “Well, I have actually been able to make her change her mind about that.” the small man announced while plucking at his hairy upper lip. “It surprises me she didn’t even tell you…no, it is Lethia we’re talking about. It’s just like her. But we’re being backtracked. So, I assume you know your alphabet?” Surprisingly, Brandon had managed to stay awake. He still had a feeling he’d collapse out of sleepiness though. Nevertheless, he tried his best to bear with the role of tutor his father had assumed. After all, he knew the man only did his best to help the bat to prepare for his journey, and he didn’t want to turn him down. “I do.” he replied. “Excellent! Well now, let’s start with recognizing the letters.” He opened the book at a random page. His gaze hovering over the words until he found what he needed. He placed a finger beneath an ‘a’. “This is an ‘a’.” he tutored. “And this,” he pointed at a ‘b’ “is a ‘b’.” Gallan, being in his element playing teacher, rattled on and on about the different characters while highlighting them with his index finger in the book. Despite trying his very best staying alert, Brandon’s attempts were futile. After a quarter of a bell, his brain shut down. The bat’s head crashed on the tabletop. He didn’t feel it at all though, since he was already residing in the land of the dreams. The stepfather smiled when the boy fell into a state of dormancy. He deserved some rest. After all, he endured reading class. Or he had attempted to anyway. As quiet as he could he stood up out of his chair and tiptoed to the shop, pleased with the attitude the lad had shown throughout the session.

[Brandon Blackwing]

The 74th of Summer 512AV Adaption took time, something the bat had experienced first-hand. Changes in lifestyle especially so. The change from nocturnal creature to a daylight-dweller, although not complete and it would never be, had taken quite a while as well. The kelvic now was able to sleep at night as well as by day, but getting up during the hours the sun ruled over was still as hard as it had been before. The bat was already glad that the many nights of troublesome insomnia had passed. During the process of adaption he had gone through, Brandon’s parents hadn’t shown him any mercy. Whether he had a headache, a cold or a broken leg, training would go on. Not that he’d had a broken leg or a cold though. His mother, being the tyrant she is, had been bullying him into doing even more body building exercises. He had to admit he’d grown a little more muscular, but it was probably caused by hormones acting up and not because of those exercises. He’d never admit it was. As for his father’s lessons, he did pretty good there too. Learning to read was easier than he’d expected. After all, it was nothing more than recognizing the letters, saying them out loud and connect the sounds to make words. Which is what he was doing right now. Gallan had opened that huge book of his on a random page and made the bat read out loud. The well-endowed moustache curled up in contentment when he heard that the fruits of his efforts were starting to ripe. There was still a lot of work until Brandon would make a fluent reader though. “…All ex-p-en-ses, ear-nings…” “It’s earnings, Bran, not ear-nings. If you see a word, you should try to read it, not spell it. Repeat and try to from the words in your head first. You can think about which word it could be as long as you need, but then try to speak them, okay? ”his stepfather corrected him. The lad nodded. His gaze took in the next part of the sentence, testing Gallan’s method. He pondered on the pronunciation, decided which sounded good enough to be actual words, compared those with terms he knew from speech and spoke with some hesitation in his voice: ”and wages have to be added to your ledger.” Gallan clapped his hands fiercely. Pride written all over his face. It might have something to do with his methods of teaching, but the boy seemed to improve greatly in no time at all. Recognition of the words formed a problem, but still, Gallan was sure Brandon would be able to read fluently by the time he left Kalinor. The boy in question was taken aback by his father’s sudden unspoken, but loud and obvious compliments. It wasn’t like he’d done it all by himself. He’d managed to translate written sentences into spoken ones correctly for the first time thanks to Gallan’s hint. Even though, he gladly accepted the applause. He stood up out of his seat and made an elegant bow. One arm curled behind his back while gesturing widely with his other, switching arms a couple of times. “Thank you very much! You are a great audience!” he grinned. OOCFor those who'd like to know, the book Bran is reading is a book about trading and how to start a business. It seemed to be the kind of book Gallan'd be likely to have. He might even have written it himself.

[Brandon Blackwing]

The 90th of summer 512 AV Syna’s rays shone brightly down on the pair. One was young, the other somewhat older. One half of the duo was male, while the other was female. They were separated by six meters of rocky underground. Faces stern and focused. Eyes burning into each other. Slowly they both brought their hands to shoulder height. The boy’s body faced sideways. One foot right-angled behind the other, only a hip-length between the two. Slightly bending through his knees, he placed his weight on the leg that was the closest to his opponent. One hand held slightly higher than the other, fingers bent inwards, but not too much. His pose was a new one he’d learned a few days ago. He couldn’t remember what was so special about this pose, but he felt comfortable using it. His muscles were relaxed, but ready to react on whatever came at him. He inhaled the cool morning air, rejuvenating his sleepy brain. He exhaled and shook his long grey hair out of his eyes. He grinned. “Bring it on!” he whispered. Those dark orbs of his scanned his opponent. He observed her carefully. Her pose, a deviating form of his, he hands clenched into fists. Concentration could be seen on her face. She wasn’t much taller than him, maybe half a head. Muscular? Not really, but maybe they were hidden underneath a small layer of body fat. It didn’t mean she wasn’t strong though. The contrary. He’d felt her punches many times before, raining down on every spot available on his body. In terms of strength he was no match for her. What was the next thing he needed to find out? Oh right, determination. Knowing her, she had lots of that. But, he couldn’t just assume that. Although it wouldn’t matter if she had less determination than he expected, he had to check anyway. After all, this whole ‘observe your opponent’ thing had to become a habit. He locked eyes with his mother once more. They were calm and collected, focused and resolute. He could almost read what she was thinking. She was going to hold back, but not much. This was supposed to be a learning experience for him after all. He could see she took this sparring match very serious. Lethia wasn’t underestimating him, but almost treated him as her equal, for this fight that is. As if they had agreed beforehand on moving at a set time, the pair started to move. Circling around and coming closer to each other, while preserving a small distance between the two. Their eyes kept track of their opponent’s every move. The bat gathered some additional information on his mother’s movements and compared them to his, evaluating his fighting stance. Her moves were controlled and in sync, inhaling oxygen at regular intervals. Her demeanour seemed to be as calm as her eyes, wasting no valuable energy. He, on the other hand, was too excited about this. His muscles were tense and trembling, his breaths came out in rugged gasps. He needed to calm down before he could make a move. His mind was chaotic, trying to take in as much information as possible while trying to figure out what his mother would do. Gradually, his eyes lost focus, distracted by the mess inside his head. He called himself to order. He needed to concentrate. Clear his mind. No thinking, just acting and reacting. He took a deep breath in and out. He was ready. Once more he gauged his mother’s eyes. They were still fixed on his movements, focused. Well, it was not likely she’d drop her guard by herself. He’d have to create an opening, but he’d to get more info on her reaction speed, counterattacks and defensive abilities first. Again, he gazed into Lethia’s orbs. She seemed reluctant to make the first move. She probably wanted him to start the offence. He swung his right leg upwards, tilting his upper body backwards. Pivoting on his left heel, his right foot made a broad sweep to her head. It met nothing but air. He’d missed. She’d seen it coming and dodged by taking a quick step backwards. The corners of the bat’s mouth pointed down in frustration. Reaction speed: fast. He refused to let it get to him though. When his foot touched the floor, he stretched his other leg while crouching and placed his right palm on the rocky surface. Using the momentum of his previous attack, he chained a low spinning sweep kick right after it. While performing the linking of the moves, he had been able to slightly decrease the distance between him and his mother. His efforts were for naught though, as she’d taken a step back once again. He spiralled up, returning to his fighting stance. This wasn’t good. His mother was reading him like a book. She just had to see the beginning of a move to know which one he was about to use and reacted accordingly. Suddenly, she closed the small gap between them and aimed a blow at his left cheek. Brandon quickly knocked her hand out of it’s path. Another fist was coming his way though. This time his stomach was targeted. He twisted his upper body sideways, evading the blow just in time. “Goh? You’re not half bad. Dodging with last chime movements like that. You’re faster than I anticipated. But, I hope you do realise that you can’t win like that. You should observe more carefully. Don’t just use you’re eyes, your ears are better then mine, use them! Also, trust your instinct. It could help you out quite a bit.” she tutored, giving the lad some useful hints. “Now then, let’s see how you fare if I go all out on you.” Her voice sounded strangely calm. She spoke the words so casually that they wouldn’t be out of place when she’d suggested a picnic. Sweat dripped from the bat’s chin. Going all out? That was basically telling him she’d kick his arse. He didn’t want that to happen. He needed to perform better. He wouldn’t survive otherwise. A barrage of lightening fast punches came his way. The boy clenched his teeth together, desperately trying to block them. Or dodge. He did his best to stay calm. He wouldn’t get messy if he stayed calm. Calm and collected. He decided he’d put his mother’s advice to the test. He divided his focus between his sight and hearing. Much to his surprise, it did help. He could hear the ‘whooosh’ sound of a fist speeding through the air at his right side. While blocking with his right upper arm, he saw another fist coming for his chin. As fast as he could he threw his head backwards. The flow of the air lifting in the trail of the clenched hand stroked his neck. Unfortunately, this had left him wide open. He was out of balance, which made it impossible to block nor dodge Lethia’s next attack. Petch..! “Bad move.” The words were cold. Disappointment ringed in the small sentence. The stupidest move he could have made. Lethia had expected a little bit more of him. She opened her left fist, stretching her fingers. Her next attack on her helpless son would be a palm thrust. She took a swift step forward, closing in on the defenceless boy and struck. Her palm met his ribs with a horrible ‘crackle!’ Pain twisted his face in a mask of horrid expressions. Eyes wide of shock, mouth opened, but no sound escaped his lips. He folded his arms over his mauled ribs and bended over ever so slightly. It was just now that he found his voice. A scream of pure agony could be heard miles away. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

[Brandon Blackwing]

The 19th of fall 512 AV Supporting his chin with his hand, Brandon was sitting at the table, a voluminous book laying before him. His gaze swiftly hovered over the title. ‘Starting a business’ it wrote. He opened the book, flipping through its pages. He only stopped when he found the page where he left off the day before. He placed his index finger right below the line he was reading, moving it with every word he read. He had become pretty fluent in reading. That wasn’t surprising, since he’d been reading every day for a bell or so. He sighed when he wondered what he could have done in all that time. If only his ribs wouldn’t have been crushed. He shot an angry stare at his mother. Lethia quickly averted her eyes when she felt her sons orbs burning on her forehead. The boy grumbled. Wasn’t she ashamed? A quick peek at the woman revealed she was. Hm, good. She’d better be! Sparring? No problem. Being disappointed in his abilities? Fine, but almost breaking his ribs because of that was a bit too extreme. He placed his focus back to the book. ‘…A good merchant is always friendly towards his or her clients.’ A rhythmic pounding coming from footsteps heading his way made the bat look up. The cheerful mustache standing before him gave him a curious stare. “Ah? Busy with reading, Bran?” The boy nodded. “Congratulations, I didn’t take you for someone who’d like to read. Oh, you’ve been reading quite a lot, I see. And how is it? Useful, don’t you think?” Reluctant to crush his father’s hopes of him liking to read, the bat ignored Gallan’s comment. “Well, I don’t have anything else to do lately, and you were busy with the shop, so I thought I might as well sharpen my reading skills.” The last question confused him though. “The book? Well, I must admit that the knowledge written down here might be useful one day, but…” “Hmmm? No no, you must have misunderstood me. I didn’t mean the book. Let me reformulate the question: aren’t you happy you know how to read now?” the mustache waved. “I guess.” The stepfather frowned. The not-so enthusiastic reply wasn’t what Gallan had imagined receiving. He sighed in defeat, accepting that the young Kelvic was more like Lethia than he wished. She was his mother after all. The small man wondered who the boy’s real father was. Lethia rarely brought the topic up, and if she did, she kept everything very vague. Brandon’s biological father probably was somekind of barbaric Kelvic, just like the bat’s mother. It would explain Brandon’s lack of interest in the intellectual arts. “Okay, well then, are you ready to take the next step? The next level in your training?” The lad, back to reading since his last reply, hadn’t really been listening, but as soon as the word ‘training’ reached his ears the man had his attention. “Of course!” His stepfather nodded in approval. His face wrinkled into a smile. “Thought you’d say that, so I’ve prepared before coming here. Tah-dah!” The man placed a piece of paper, a quill and an inkpot on the table. “We’ll do some writing today!” Brandon felt the pain of disappointment in his chest, when he shifted in his seat (and hurt his painful ribs). That was not the kind of training he had in mind. Bells passed by quickly as Gallan showed him how to use the quill and inkpot. Of course, Brandon had to be able to write without spilling ink. After that, Gallan showed the bat how to form the letters, using his book as an example. The bat imitated his movements and drew (it was more drawing instead of actual writing) the letters his stepfather had taught him. Although it would take quite some time before his handwriting would be readable, the small man could recognize the characters Bran drew. He plucked at his mustache and continued tutoring. He’d teach him how to write every letter of the alphabet before the day would end. He smiled. He enjoyed the quality time he spent with his stepson.

[Brandon Blackwing]

The 24th of Fall 512 AV The quill was dipped in the ink. The hand holding it pulled out right after the point touched the ebony liquid. Careful not to waste the valuable product, the boy knocked the unwanted drops back in the pot. He placed his hand back at the pot he’d been writing at just a moment ago. He looked up to his father, gesturing him to continue. The man blinked and did his best to recall what he’d been saying just now. Impatiently, the boy started drumming the fingers of his free hand on the table. The small man frowned, annoyed with the distraction. He remained silent however, as he didn’t want to scold his son for his enthusiasm. Obviously, the stepfather misjudged the boy’s impatience. It was not like he wanted to practice writing, but he just wanted to get it over with. As fast as possible. The mustached man pulled his voluminous whiskers while thinking back two chimes ago. His face expressed a total lack of focus as he kept getting distracted by the drumming fingers. Gallan shrugged. Brandon should have to start another line. “So, new sentence. ‘The Symenestra are an eccentric race’.” Agreed. the bat thought. His hand started moving. Practiced patterns that formed various letters emerged from the ink, given shape by the quill. The boy’s hand scribbled down each word his father had spoken. Although his handwriting had become much more readable the past few days, his spelling was far from perfect. When the quill stopped it’s motion, the line Bran had written down accentuated this fact. On the paper, the ink still wet, was a new sentence. It wrote: The simenestra are an exentrick rase. The stepfather peeked at the messy sheet of paper. The errors made him sigh. The boy clearly tried his best, but it wasn’t enough. These mistakes…race with an ‘s’? come on! He should know better! He decided that Brandon should read more. It would improve his spelling. He hoped so anyway. For now, he could only point out the boy’s mistakes and correct them. “ ’Symenestra’ is written with a ‘y’. ‘Eccentric with double ‘c’ instead of ‘x’ and with single ‘c’ instead of ‘ck’. And lastly, ‘race’ also needs a ‘c’ and not an ‘s’.” The small man pointed his index finger at the errors, took the quill from Brandon’s hand and wrote the correct spelling for the words down. “You should read some more attentively Bran, it will do you good. Just pay some more attention to the spelling of the words and you’ll see a great improvement.” At least the boy was a quick learner. He picked things up faster than Gallan had dreamed. It made his work easier. He could imagine what much of a bother it would be to teach a human child of Bran’s age. The stepfather seriously doubted an infant’s study capabilities. He smiled. “Alright, let’s continue! Uhm, let me think…ah! This one comes literally from the book you’ve been reading, so you should be able to write it properly. ‘A good merchant is always kind to his or her customers’.” The bat’s hand got to work again, connecting lines, forming letters and words. A good mershand iz alwais kind to hiz or her customerz. Gallan sighed deeply upon seeing his stepson’s scribbling. The road to perfect spelling was still long, and filled with mistakes.

[Brandon Blackwing]

The 63rd of Fall 512 AV “So what are we doing today?” asked the bat. He and his stepfather were sitting at there usual spot at the table. The bat had seen the gleam of anticipation in Gallan’s eyes and had actually tried to feign ignorance, but had asked when he couldn’t keep up the act. This had pleasured the stepfather so much that his face was covered with laugh wrinkles. To make the image complete, his moustache curled upwards at the corners as well. Eager to answer his inquiry, the man’s moustache waved up and down as his lips formed a reply. “I’m going to teach you the basics of navigation today. Well, sort of.” he said. “Ah…” To be honest, the bat hadn’t been expecting this. He’d assumed he’d have to read and write again today. As such, he was pleasantly surprised they were going to do something useful. The small man stumbled away, leaving the boy behind at the table, lost in thought. He was wondering how they’d start with navigation. He didn’t know a thing about navigation, so he asked himself what his father would bring with him. The answer was given to him when his stepfather returned with a scroll. What could be written on the inside? He didn’t know. Unable to mask his curiosity, he stared at Gallan with questioning eyes. Laughing at his impatience, the man placed the scroll on the table and rolled it open, revealing a drawing of sorts. The bat lifted an eyebrow. It was an image of a….he had not a clue what it was. There were different colors present, irregular shapes with knurled outlines. Each shape had a different color. There were also words written on the scroll, and close to most of them were small dots. “And that is…?” The bat asked. He wasn’t too sure if it was a work of art or anything else, but he decided it was better to ask instead of making assumptions. His mother had once told him “The only thing that’s safe to assume is that nothing’s safe to assume”, so he tried not to assume too much. His father frowned. “It’s a map. Have you never seen one before?” The bat pondered on that thought for a moment, recalling all memories of possible times he could have come across of a map. He couldn’t find any. “Nope. Never seen one. So this is what it is huh? I always thought maps were things that guided people. “They do.” The boy glanced at him unbelievingly. Surely a piece of paper couldn’t guide a person. And a weird drawing like this couldn’t at all. “How?” Gallan sighed. “Navigation is a skill with which you can reach every destination you want. But, it’s not simple. It’s a complex of other… er … observational techniques…” his voice slowly faded away. “I can’t really explain, but you need to do a lot of different stuff before you’ll be able to navigate properly.” The boy nodded, gesturing the small man to continue. “It will get clearer if we try. So take a close look at the map and tell me what you see.” Focussing his gaze on the scroll in front of him, the boy did as he was told. He tried to read the messy handwriting on the map. “Suvan Sea” he read. Gallan nodded. “Good, what else? Place your focus here.” He circled around one of the shapes on the scroll. “Kalea” “Yes, indeed. And this?” This time his index finger pointed at a smaller written word. The bat narrowed his eyes to get a better view on it. “Kal…Kali…Kalinor?” he asked. The stepfather clapped his hands. “Yes! Good! What’s the name of the city we live in Bran?” Now it dawned on the boy. “Kalinor!” he answered confidently. “Correct! You see Bran, on this scroll are the different regions of Mizahar. Those shapes are those regions. The dots with the words written near them are the cities. The blue shapes with words in them are the different seas.” “Oh! I get it. So with this you can where your city is located.” the boy said. He still didn’t see why this was such a useful tool though. “That’s right, but it can be used for other things as well.” The bat looked at him in confusion. What else could you do with a scroll that showed the city you lived in? “Like you said Bran, you can see the city you live in. But you can also see the other cities. So, if you travel you look at the map and see which city is the closest to your current position and you head towards that city.” Ah, so that’s where a map was used for. So with a map you could view where the cities where located, and in which region you were. Admitted, it could come in handy. Wait, didn’t Gallan say that this was one of the tools used to navigate? “Are there other methods to navigate? Like if you don’t have a map?” Gallan blinked in surprise. The boy was actually interested in what he was trying to teach him for once. “Of course! You have many different ways to get to your destination, the map is just one of them.” After a brief pause he dared to ask the question he hoped to get a positive answer on. “Would you like to learn more about this subject?” The bat swung his head up and down wildly, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, I’d love to! This is quite interesting. It will help me get where I want and when I want right? So yeah, it’s really cool!” The moustached man smiled happily. “Oh, okay. That’s great. Let’s continue tomorrow.” A smile also spread over the boy’s lips. “Sure!” he replied.