The sun slowly rose over the quiet village with a warm glow accompanied by a gentle southern breeze. Soft, fluffy clouds floated lazily across the sky and the soft tweeting of birds filled the air. Arenborn enjoyed the soft smells of spring, blooming flowers and fresh grass. It was peaceful.
The peace was disturbed by the clatter of weapons coming together and Arenborn watched as two of his grandchildren sparred together. Aren paid close attention as the two teenagers moved warily around one another. Mardorn, his grandson advanced with his wooden longsword, winding between guards the way Aren had drilled him to, whilst Elayne kept her shield up, her spear jabbing at her younger brother to keep him at a distance.
Mardorn was a few years younger than Elayne, but he was already taller than her, and still a skinny youth. His sister on the other hand was a similar height to her mother and to Inayat yet had begun to gain a small amount of muscle. She could just about match her brothers speed and was only a little weaker. She made up for it with skill, preventing him from coming within range with his long sword and keeping him on his toes.
He watched as she darted out the way of his heavy over head swing and knocked him to his feet with a sweep of her spear to his legs. Aren laughed silently and clapped once, summoning them towards his seat in the shade of a tall oak tree. The two took of their helmets, both smiling as they approached and laughing with each other.
It always struck him how alike Elayne was to her grandmother. She has very much the same build and face, and her hair was styled the same, but it was the same black as his. He brother had received the red hair, his curly locks hanging over dark blue eyes. Aren gestured to his granddaughter with a questioning look before gesturing to her brother.
“He left him self open. He showed me what he was going to do long before he did and let me anticipate and then avoid his attack.” She said. Aren looked to Mardorn then, tilting his head and raising his eyebrow questioningly.
“Aye, I should have begun the attack the same time as I took the step.”
Aren nodded, then slowly pushed himself to his feet. He felt his bones creaking as he pushed up. He wasn’t the young man he used to be. He reached out for the wooden sword, and Mardorn handed it to him. Gesturing to Elayne, they positioned themselves into a sparring stance, facing each other. Elayne knew what to do, for they had done it many times before. Aren swung over head like his grandson had, and Elayne blocked it with her shield. Looking to Mardorn, he shook his head.
Mardorn nodded and kept a keen eye on his grandfather as he showed him what he should have done, working around Elayne’s defences, rather than attacking her where they were strongest.
Mardorn watched intently, and when he was passed the training sword back he took on the advice and began to try and work it into his sparring. A few more rounds with his sister and he hadn’t quite managed it but was slowly getting there. Aren couldn’t help but smile as he watched them train, it reminded him somewhat of his times with Inayat when they first met.
He reached up and felt the chain about his neck where Inayat’s wedding ring hung. He missed her dearly, but it had been a few years now and the grief was mostly faded. He felt content as he watched his grandchildren spar, they were good children, as the father was before them.
He liked to think his wife was still watching him, and he would still see her in their bed sometimes, where she had slowly sunk into her eternal sleep. He wouldn’t blink, wanting to treasure the sight, taking in every detail. They were pleasant moments, but he knew they were signs of his mind going.
He could feel his time coming. He was old, older than he had ever expected to live, but it had been a good life. He would join his wife in peace when it came to it.
