His whole body felt warm. That sensation embraced him from head to toe, it was a good warmth, a lovely one. It made him feel relaxed and confident, every thought he had at that moment vanished into the air.
Slowly he rolled up into a ball, hugging his legs with both arms and pushing them to his chest. He did that so that the warmth could embrace him even stronger.
He was lying on something which wasn't the ground, it had a soft sensation.
It was dark around him, there was no light to show his surroundings, a darkness that he was not afraid of.
He wasn't afraid because he knew that his eyes were closed, and he could just open them anytime he wanted.
He felt a hand brushing through his hair, slow and delicate movements.
A womanly voice whispered in his ears:
"Wake up, it's almost time."
Slowly opening his eyes, the first things he saw were the wooden ceiling which was covered in hay, and the second one was his mother gently leaning over him.
"Good morning, darling."
She gave him a warm, lovely looking smile. Leaned in closer and caressed his hair, she let out a faint laugh directed to him. He didn't understand why and thought she was messing with him.
He rubbed both of his eyes while having his gaze still directed to her.
"Do I really have to go? Can't I stay a little longer?"
"You know the rules... what do you imagine father will say when he finds out."
Most of his mornings were the same as everyone, being woken up in a soft manner by his beautiful mother.
He was almost at the age of twelve and in his village he was already to be considered as a man, one who didn't slack off or listen to bedtime stories. This also meant he shouldn't be sleeping on the same bed as his parents. To him, it was nothing more than mere rules of the villagers.
"Alright, alright!, I'll go, just don't tell father. "
He stood up, took his gear and got ready to go, and as he was almost outside he heard his mother tell him:
"Kean. Make yourself proud..."
He looked back, giving her a faint smile, and with that, he went off to training.
He left the tent, which in comparison, was like almost all the other ones. It was a particularly small one, having only space for about three people, the fact was that Kean lived with his parents, making the place feel even more crammed than it was. It had a little round table in the middle made entirely out of wood, it looked more worn out than the village's eldest, Kean feared that it would break any second if too much weight was put on it. On the sides of it there were only two boxes containing multiple things, like weapon, tools or cooking ingredients. it had space for a small bed, nearly big enough for about one couple to sleep on it, but since they were a family, they were forced to squeeze together.
Their so-called "home" was made out of a few thin wooden logs, mostly covered with hay on top of it. It was poorly made, leaving tiny holes that let out rays of sunlight in.
It had a round shape like a barrel and a ceiling which had a mostly sharp tip.
The village was surrounded by many wooden logs, each one differing in its size
Kean hurried to the training field, so that he wouldn't arrive late and get scolded by the teacher. Their survival instructor was a smart but somehow peculiar man, he favored some of his students to a concerning extent, there were some rumors between the children, that some of them spent some "alone time" with him at evenings.
The teacher almost never got angry, and kept a calm composure in front of people, no matter how few there were.
Kean was the last to arrive at the field, as he swiftly tried to sneak in, so to not clarify his lateness, everyone turned to him and stared him down from head to toe.
Seeing that it was only him, one by one they threw a rejecting smirk at him, they gave him that look, as if they were internally making fun of him.
Kean noticed their intentions and turned his head to the ground, trying his best to ignore every single one of them.
Did he deserve that...did he?
He never thought that he did.
Seeing them like that reminded him of his father, he'd shown the same expression at him from time to time, it was nothing new to him.
But he never got used to it.
Kean was afraid of his own father, more afraid than anyone else in the village. His father was a very strict man who always scolded him for the smallest mistakes, everything had to be perfect, from his actions to his expressions.
Standing in the middle of the group, among everyone else on the training field. They all stepped away from Kean, creating a circle around him in the progress.
The children excluded Kean from everything, when asked if he could join them to play he was pushed around. When they had their time to themselves, they sneaked out to the outside of the village. They used a little door located on the north side of the wooden wall, one of the reasons that they were never caught going in and out, was because the door was hidden behind a bush in the corner of the tents.
"Welcome, dear children, does everyone have their gear within arm's reach?"
The instructor had arrived just before the situation could have spiraled into another act of regression.
Due to the village's strict rules, the people had little to no free time to them, from birth till the day of their death the people were trained in the harsh manner of survival. Those who never progressed in these learnings or had no knowledge to begin with, would not even survive one day in the outside world.
Everyone welcomed the instructor with a greeting and an answer to his question.
"So today we are going to learn about the way of the sword, a weapon as sharp as words."
Hearing those words leave his mouth , left them in a stunned state, while it was nothing too complex, it was still too far out of their vocabulary knowledge. It was something that the children could not understand at that moment, they could only but look and listen.
"Everyone form a group of two people, stand ready and hold your weapon firmly, don't forget to widen the legs for balance and strengthen your stance. "
After these instructions that were given to them, they got together and stood in front of one another, sword in hand and ready to strike at any second.
Kean ended up pairing with a guy just a bit older than him, he was more on the heavy side, which also gave him an advantage when it came to raw strength. He was called Gaulmer, son of the brute weights, standing mostly taller than the other kids and didn't hold back when it came to acts of violence. His short brown hair being a sign of his growing character and his fierce eyes demonstrating the fighter inside him.
Having trouble with Gaulmer meant to be his next victim of physical torment, all that with the mere age of thirteen, a proud villager amongst the other, an example of a young man.
Mostly every person among the training field respected Gaulmer with every fiber of their being, but only for the wrong reasons. No one wanted his wrath put upon them, it would be the last thing they would do with their lives.
Gaulmer chose Kean to be his partner so that he could have some amusement in toying with him. He knew that Kean stood no chance against him, no matter what the instances were.
Kean stood nowhere near the strongest fighter in the village, but he also was not the weakest to walk among them. Due to the way that he was treated and the opinions that others had of him, he could never fight seriously and always had to let his opponent have the last swing.
"Don't you dare get scared and run away to your mother!"
"I will not do that."
"Do not talk back to me, you hear!"
"I wasn't talking back. I am just telling you I won't run away."
Kean tried his best to keep a calm composure, he knew that even one single mistake could get him into deeper trouble.
The instructor told them to start practicing and strike while the other one had to defend against their partner.
Gaulmer swung his sword at him, using all his power so that Kean would fall on the ground, making it much easier to strike him.
He defended most of his blows while also backing down, he was overthrown with immense strength to the left side. What would seem like pure instinct made Kean move without thinking first and he attacked Gaulmer after he managed to withstand that blow.
Seeing the sword get closer to his face, Gaulmer stepped back in desperation, barely escaping the slash.
It shook Kean to the core seeing himself move like that.
After that action he threw his sword to the ground and ran up to Kean shouting:
"What was that! Do you think I allowed you to attack!"
After reaching Kean he grabbed onto his collar, shoving him in closer to his own face, making the distance between them grow gradually closer. Whispering to him in anger:
"Do not forget where you stand. After all... you are a failure."