Tales of the Past
Part II: Heritage
My father never told me much about himself, or anything about our family. Why we had pitch-black hair, and my mother and the other townspeople didn't, for example. The reason why other people saw me as a complete stranger.. He never told me such a thing, but someone else did.
"Ouch!" I exclaimed, reaching for my stomache after feeling the impact of my father's sword again. He shook his head, pacing around me with a sigh. "Your footwork is lousy today. Remember your lessons." We began again, and again I saw the wooden sword coming for my stomache with no way for me to block it. I closed my eyes to take my mind off it, and brace for the hit..
*Takk* I heard within less than a second. I felt no pain, and slowly opened one of my eyes, and then both, a broad smile appearing as I saw my father's sword being blocked by another wooden sword, my arms immediately flying around my savior; my brother. I heard him chuckle, wrapping his armored arms around me, pressing me against his breastplate. "Little brother." He ruffled up my hair, and I looked up at him in wonder, always having admired him for being a Rider.
My brother was already an Eorlinga, and six years older than me, and much more experienced, in every way. My father was proud of him, and thus I wanted to be the same as him, and make my father proud.
"I'll continue with him, father." My brother said, receiving a simple nod from my father as a reply. My father left the yard, and as had become custom each day, children ran by, spouting the usual insults and taunts.. "Why do they call us that, brother?" He shrugged. "Father hasn't told you yet?" I shook my head. "I suppose he left that out of his history lessons.. Dúnedain, the descendants of the Númenóreans, came to Eriador, far in the north. The kingdom of Arnor grew from their arrival, and they settled in Gondor aswell, and after Arnor fell, some of the Northern Dúnedain became known as the Rangers of the North. The southern Dúnedain intermarried with people not of the same blood, and our father is a product of that, hence the black hair. He married a Rohirric woman, and bore two sons, us two, also boasting black hair. In short, this means that we are descendants of the Dúnedain. No direct ones, but we bear the physical appearance, and the blood. Though I doubt the people in Aldburg know that.. They simply find it odd we have black hair.. Especially the children. Don't let it get to you. It's nothing special." He prepared his stance, signalling for me to come at him. Sounds of clashing wood were heard until late in the afternoon, and suddenly, I know what part of history I actually -wanted- my father to tell me about the next day.
