[Complete] Eroh has reached his seventeenth spring and has finally become a man. With manhood comes a gift: marriage to the woman he loves. But when a strange new woman from another world enters his life, he is stuck with the decision to honor his...
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The sapphires on the necklace sparkled, yet I drew my eyes to the center gem. It was bluer than any sapphire, shaped like a horn moon, and shimmered like light off water.
"Marvelous," I said, flipping the necklace over several times. I didn't know much about rubies, diamonds, or sapphires, but if I had to guess I'd say the gem was flawless. "I need to return it ..." I slid it into my pocket, then went out back to meet my father.
It'd been three weeks since my ceremony, and I finally felt the strength return. It was a new strength. Not the feeble strength I had before, but a power that coursed through my blood, effecting every muscle in my body. Beast blood was what many called it, and I finally had it.
The shapening caused the change, in not only my blood, but in my bones and muscles. Every time I found my reflection, in mirror, pool, or piece of glass I saw a darker-haired, broad-chinned man, with bright blue eyes, and a body that was ripened with muscles.
I was stronger, faster, and my reflexes were quick as lightning. Every morning I picked up the two-handed sword my father gave me and practiced. Against trees. Against elders. Even against my shadow. The weight of the sword strained my muscles with every swing. My shoulders and arms ached. My back was numb. And my legs were heavy as boulders. It was a wonder I could carry it at all. But when my strength returned, I was no long burdened by such weight.
I went outside where my father waited with two swords in hand. Their hilts made of cervitaur bone and the blade made of Maqsyrux Stone: a lightweight rock found in the mountains of Taurtine. The blades were black, clear as glass, and keen enough to cut a man in half.
He handed me one. "I want to see how you've improved-"
I slid my right leg behind me, lifting the blade from my left hip. It arched up and to the right. A beautiful swing with enough force to remove a head. Father stepped back. The blade removed chin hair. It was an improvement. Father had grown lazy since being at the temple, and he needed the shave.
He chuckled. "Is that how were are dueling? Like barbarians?"
"Is there any other way?"
Father shook his head and his bushy cheeks rose with his smile. "Have it your way."
He roared, lifting the sword above his head. Every vein in his body bulged. He brought the blade down. I lunged back. The blackened stone ate into earth, sinking to mid-blade. This was my chance. With my weight behind the swing, I countered. Father was a huge, aging man, but he still had a quickness to his step. I cut leather. Father drew up his blade. We matched ours blows. I'd swing, he'd parry. He'd lunge, I'd parry. Blow after blow. Chopping and cutting, trying our bests to slice flesh. We didn't want to kill each other, though our instincts told us to do so. That's why restraint was important. But we wanted to draw blood; first blood would be victorious.
"You're still thinking," Father said, nearly burying his sword into my rib. I spun out of the way just in time. "I can see it in your eyes. And if I can see it, your enemy can see it." I closed my eyes and chopped air. Father chuckled. "You won't win any battle fighting blind."
