The Last Summoner

Chapter one

Chapter one

These barbarians were idiots. My uncle knows it. I know it, and I'm only fourteen for crying out loud.
It had been a normal day in the Freljord for my uncle and I. We woke early, went hunting for breakfast. Till lunch he would train me to fight, though I'm not too sure why. I can see it in his eyes that he despises me, his cold expression always angry as if he is disgusted by my existence.
So after our one sided training regime, we would travel to town for supplies. It was a small town, on the border of Queen Ashe's territory and Serpentine River, and frequently was robbed by the local barbarians. The ones that King Tryndamere didn't control sadly. That probably explains their lack of intelligence. Right now they were at the stage of taking any weapons to stop any possible resistance against them. After fifteen minutes of doing nothing!
"Hey uncle Darius, I'm getting impatient."
"So am I kid, so am I."
Uncle Darius was a big man, definitely strong in his youth, though he lost his right forearm years ago, and I'm assuming that was his dominant hand in combat. But even then he was a force to reckon with. His obvious once black hair was turning grey, even with some strands of white. He had on a simple red leather vest over black shirt and similar colored pants. Right now he was wearing a brown cloak, same one as me but much larger, though I feel like armor would have fit his appearance better.
Though I really wouldn't be surprised if uncle Darius was a soldier, his shouts really hurt my ears. He never really tells me about his past, probably because he doesn't even like me.
I sighed heavily, swiping some snow away from my brown hair. I wonder if uncle Darius was from my father's side. Hopefully not, I wouldn't like to have a father that would have that expression all the time...or my mother for that matter.
I shuddered.
"What is it?" uncle Darius asked. "You need to relieve yourself?"
"What? Hell no!" I hissed back.
"Whoever's talking, shut up will yah!" one of the barbarians shouted, my eardrums ringing slightly.
Everyone seemed to wince as well from the shout, though uncle Darius seemed fine. Probably cause he heard his own shouting everyday.
"It was this kid," he called out almost immediately, pointing down at me. "He needs to take a piss, so hurry up!"
"Shut your mouth old man, we'll finish once we have looted everything! The kid can take his piss later!"
"At this rate I'll die of old age you piece of shit!" uncle Darius roared back.
The barbarian talking, which I assume is the leader, stormed towards uncle Darius, grabbing him by his vest collar.
"I can kill yah right now to save yah the wait." He hissed, his putrid breath entering my nose. Seriously, does he eat raw fish or something?
"Let go of my vest sonny, that's my favourite vest you're grabbing," uncle Darius stated threateningly.
The tension was so thick I could probably cut it with a knife. I just prayed that he wouldn't draw my uncle into a fight.
"Watcha gonna do 'bout it?"
And, my only hope is out the window. I watched my uncle smile, a hint of insanity in his eyes. I sighed heavily.
Here we go again. Uncle Darius must be a magnet for fights or something. A despite having lost his right hand, he was still a force to recon with.
The barbarian probably didn't know what hit him, as the fist collided with his face, a solid crack of a jaw breaking echoed through the town. Silence thundered as everyone stared at this one armed old man, rising to his feet, his left fist bloodied from the punch.
"Kid, get up."
Seeing no other option I quickly stood up, staring at the group of barbarians still processing that their friend was unconscious on the ground with a broken jaw.
So the good news is that we have a tactical advantage since they're surprised. Bad news is that they have our weapons.
They must have finally realized that since the barbarians gave a cry of battle before charging at the two of us, brandishing their weapons. A dozen armed barbarians weren't something that most people would come across everyday, even in the Freljord. Normal people would be scared, like I am. My uncle on the other hand...
"These weaklings dare to attack me?"
Gave a tremendous roar before he charged at the barbarians, and seeing no other alternative right now, I strolled meekly behind him, still wondering how it became like this.
I watched as my uncle grabbed the closest barbarian, before bringing his head to the poor guy's head, a solid crack filling the air. Then uncle Darius grabbed the man's weapon, an axe that seemed to small for the massive figure of my uncle. But he didn't seem to care. He swung that thing with such force that we took out two more barbarians with a single swing, and proceeded to be a whirlwind of death, lashing out at all the poor barbarians that didn't know who they were fighting against. It was a very one-sided battle in my uncle's favour as none of the barbarians seemed capable of stopping him.
Then I felt a sword rest on my neck.
"Don't move or I'll kill your kid!"
The last barbarian was holding the sword at my neck, pressing it in slightly. Uncle Darius turned around, and looked at me and growled.
"And?" he asked.
It was easy to say that the person holding the sword to my neck was shocked. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly like a gaping fish.
"Don't you care about your kid?" the barbarian asked.
"One, he is not my kid," uncle Darius answered. "Two, if he is stupid enough to get into a situation as a hostage, that is not my problem. And three, HOW LONG DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DISTRACT HIM FOR?"
I mumbled an apology to my uncle, before grabbing the sword's handle, twisting it away from me. Gently I forced the handle out of the barbarian's hand, spun, and lashed out with a kick to his head, knocking him to the ground. In one swift motion I swung my blade, slicing his neck. Unable to breath the barbarian grasped at his neck, collapsing onto the ground, tears in his eyes, as he knew his death was unavoidable.
"We should go before the townsfolk make too much of a fuss," my uncle stated. "Get your weapon."
Nodding, I walked to where the barbarians had our weapons, instantly finding the short sword that uncle Darius had given me. Pulling the weapon out of its leather scabbard I checked to make sure that the barbarians didn't damage the weapon. The slightly blue tinted blade seemed fine, and I couldn't help a sigh of relief. Sheathing the short sword, I strapped it to beside my hip, securing the scabbard. Out of the corner of my eye I watch my uncle strap his large battleaxe onto his back, before he started to walk to the entrance of the village. Turning around I saw the villagers observe the dead bodies, and for those that had hid, they were coming out from their hiding places.
Slipping on my hood, I ran towards my uncle, slowing to a normal walk when I reached him.
I smiled at my uncle, to which he returned with a cold glare, walking in front of me so I couldn't see his face. I sighed. He still didn't like me after all. Maybe one day when I am strong enough, he'll come to accept me as his nephew.