I drifted into the limbo of sleep and consciousness, it was the place where dreams were made. My eyes closed sealing my fate.
I saw the dog from the night before, it was sitting there as if to tempt me into making the first move. Its eyes glowed white in the moonlight. I felt the glaring contempt emanating from it. I saw as it drooled and readied its teeth. In a flash it was replaced with a man, his eyes the same white, but they were strangely different form the dogs. They were no longer cold and icy, but calm and ready. As I looked harder it was not the man I thought, he was a boy not much older than I. It made me uncomfortable. I had fought them before but this one didn't give off the same hints that a daemon boy would.
He looked just as scared as I was, I didn't know why but a streak of terror had overcome me, nothing but my training and conviction was holding me here. The boy was ragged and looked strangely familiar. He had dark eyes now, they had changed, maybe just to confuse me I thought. His hair was jet black, it was longer than usual for boys, but short enough to be sure he was one.
After seeing his eyes, I had drawn my blades, I felt a cold wind sweep through me. I had my blades and I was ready. Abruptly I was wakened roughly by my mothers right hand woman, Sara. It was 5 Am. I groaned, time for training. Though I was only suppose to train for healing I had convinced Sara that it was necessary,for me to learn to fight with blades. The training room was clean as usual, I lifted my fencing blade, and held my muscles ready. She grabbed a fencing sword and started circling.
I made a small jab, not wanting to start, but someone had to. She twisted and jabbed hard at my side, "Guard!" she said "Out there you'd be bleeding out by now." I knew she was right, it was earlier than our regular sessions, but it would have to do.
I found an opening, I bluffed a right and slid left "slitting" open her unguarded side. She quickly recovered, it was early for both of us, she took her sword and with a "WHACK!" she left a good size bruise on my fore arm. "Guard!" she shouted again. We didn't need to worry about the noise, because all of the training rooms were soundproofed, when we converted the cathedral. I lifted my sword and blocked a "wouldbe" heavy hit to my skull. I countered it with a slash that would have cut to the bone of Sara's leg. She blocked it easily smirking, "childish!"
I went down as she went for my neck, just barely missing me, I slid to the floor, framing a hit; Instead I swung my sword and made a quick jab to her ribs. She yelped in surprise. After over an hour of this training was done for the day. I had won.
It disappointed me that it didn't matter who had won, because my mother always won in the end. I would never be a fighter.