Chapter 8: 8. Such fine warriors should not be wasted on a child.

On the way to the exit, two imposing knights blocked their way. The men wore gleaming armor while their hands rested on the hilts of their swords.

The knights were both tall and muscular, with broad shoulders and thick necks. Their armor was made of shining steel and was adorned with intricate designs and symbols. The knights' helmets visors were down, hiding their faces in shadows, and their hands rested on the hilts of their swords, ready to draw them at a moment's notice. Despite their imposing appearance, there was a hint of unease in their stance, as if they were unsure of their own actions.

As Az and his guardians approached, the knights stepped forward, blocking their path.

“Step aside,” Ogron hissed, his hand drifting to the hilt of his short sword, ready for a fight.  Drawing his spear would be a declaration of war.

On the other hand, Az only raised his eyebrow at the sight of the two men. One of the knights lifted his hands in a peaceful gesture and spoke, his voice muffled by his helmet. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down, man. We mean you no harm. I just wanted to make the three of you an offer. How about joining us? Such fine warriors should not be wasted on a child. Our boss even pays well."

Ogron shook his head in amusement before stating, "We have no interest in joining anyone. We can't be bought, and anyone who wants to harm the young one will lose his head." Ogron quietly unsheathed his sword an inch to let them know he was dead serious about it. 

The two knights swallowed and stepped aside before one of them uttered, "I hope you'll reconsider."

"You know my answer, so step aside," Ogron told them impatiently.

Thus the group left, and it didn't take long till a new debate started. This time it's about which weapon the young master should train in.

"Master should learn how to use a scythe. In my culture, the whisperers of the dead have always used scythes," Otaz stated while making a swinging movement. 

"A scythe is a stupid and impractical weapon. Also, it is the weapon of a farmer, and Az is a noble man. A bow is better suited to him. After all, a lord should not dirty his own hand," Simaev retorted while placing a hand on her chest armor.

“But that’s the weapon of a coward,” Otaz retorted back, only to be cut short by Ogron, who stated proudly, “Kids these days are blinded by aesthetics. Everyone knows that the spear will always be the king in melee weapons.”

"How about I decide it," sighed Az, and the three immediately shouted, “NO,” in unison, knowing his weapon of choice damn well.

Ultimately, all three weapons were purchased since no agreement was made.

"I am a mage. Shouldn't I focus on using a mage staff or something like that?" asked Az.

"Those are weak mages,” Otaz said, shaking his head. “Of all mages, they are the first to be killed because they're lacking in self-defense. Someone who doesn’t even have any combat or weapon experience shouldn’t use magic. Otherwise, one might become over-reliant on spells, and good luck surviving an encounter with an assassin. Because that person will definitely give you the five seconds you need to cast a spell.”

Az was overwhelmed by the dialogue and quietly stated, “a spear is fine, I guess.” Before giving Ogron an innocent look and pouting, “But I really want to become a magician and not some crude hunter.”

"Such spells don't work on me," Ogron said, gently slapping Az's head. "Becoming a hunter is much nobler compared to becoming a stupid magician who hides from any danger that comes with close combat."

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And with that, the group left the town. 

 

A couple of weeks later: 

“Keep your breath, Az,” Otaz commented, as he quietly watched Az aiming with a short bow at a group of hogs. Today, was Otaz day to teach Az, and from all his seniors, he was truly the worst, since that freak believed in learning by doing. 

The hogs were foraging for food, their snouts buried in the underbrush as they rooted for roots and tubers. The scent of earth and adecay filled the air, and the hog’s snuffling filled the air with a moist, snuffling sound.

After taking a big breath, Az shot, and even though he didn’t hit the hog he was aiming for, he still hit one of them. A squeak echoed through the forest, and Az immediately took out another arrow before firing another shot. But by now, the group of hogs already spotted him, and started running in his direction, their small eyes narrowed in anger and their tusks bared. The pounding of their hooves on the ground was like thunder in Az’s ears.

“Time to run, boy,” Otaz casually stated. In his voice was a hint of concern, since he knew that Az was not capable of handling an entire group of furious hogs by himself. “Let’s see if you can outrun a group of hogs, kekeke.” 

Az’s face immediately turned grave, and without uttering a word, he threw his bow at Otaz before running for his life. The sweat on his skin made the air feel cool against his heated body. “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK,” Az cursed under his breath, and it did not take long till the gruntings from behind grew louder with every passing second. 

"Young master. Show these creatures, what differentiates you from them. I believe in you," Otaz shouted in high motivation to Az while casually jogging besides him with a smile, ready to step in if necessary.

But Az was too focused on running to pay much attention to him. 'Why can't you shut the fuck up for once,' he thought to himself, determined to prove himself to Otaz. As he ran, searching frantically for an escape, Az’s foot got caught on a particularly large root, and he crashed to the ground. If it weren’t for his leather armor, his shin would definitely be scrapped. 

Otaz called out for him, but Az was already back on his feet, continuing to sprint for his life. “If they catch up to me, I’m dead,” he continued under his breath, as he felt the hogs getting closer and closer on him. By now, he could feel the unrythmic hot breath on his heels, knowing damn well, that he could not outrun them longer.

As his endurance begane to wane, Az gritted his teeth and made a snap decision. He veered to the thickest tree and jumped onto it, before climbing desperately. The rough bark scraped against Az’s palms as he scrambled higher and higher, climbing higher and higher. The hogs surrounding the base of the tree guaranted loudly in fury, as they snapped their jaws at Az’s feet. Some even jumped several feet into the air, trying to bite Az. By now, Az’s heart was pounding franctically, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins, numbed all the pain from the splinters he felt.

Thankfully, Az reached a high enough place, and immediately leaned his back against the tree, panting heavily. Otaz give me,…” he groaned, not knowing which weapon would be the best in his current situation.

“What do you want? I’ve got bows, a spear and even a scythe,” Otaz casually stated, flashing each weapon in front of him. He was impressed with how well Az was handling himself, especially since he planned on ending the training the moment Az got caught by hogs. 

“The spear,” Az immediately replied, grabbing it from Otaz’s hands. He randomly swung it with all his might downwards. A loud squeal filled the air as he pierced one of the hogs, who immediately charged away. 

But the problem was, Az was still gripping the spear tightly, and was therefore dragged downwards to his demise, where the hogs snapped their jaws like piranhas ready to devour him.