《Freewalker》Chapter Six
Advertisement
The boy’s, Zara still hadn’t gotten his name, camp was not far from where he found her, and when they reached it she was surprised by how small it was. It consisted of a small cloth lean-to set against a tree, a fire pit that wasn’t being used for anything and a swinging carcass of what she guessed to be a smallish boar slowly dripping blood into a hole dug beneath it.
The boy, she would have to come up with a name to call him for he was around her age and therefore no boy, walked to his lean-to and deposited the four swords he looted into it, then he turned to her approached and touched the sides of her shoulders with the tips of his fingers.
A wave of disgust washed over Zara. Logically she knew the touch was purely practical, a way to measure the width of her shoulders, why she did not know, but it brought on memories. Memories of unwanted touches and constrictive grips. She jerked away, and warped her hands around herself. Her shame of her reaction brought anger.
“Dark blight you! What are you doing?” she snarled at the boy.
He didn’t react to her aggression or answer to her question. He simply looked at the space between his hands for a moment, completely ignoring her outburst, then he turned around and started to cross his camp to the trees opposite them.
His lack of reaction made her angrier, the same part that knew his touch had no motives beyond getting her measure, literally, told her she was acting like a child. But it didn’t offer much resistance.
“I asked you something!” she squawked after him, the tone of her own voice irritating her further, and jumped to reach him.
“Don’t ignore me you peace of shit!” she grabbed onto his shoulder and pulled to make him face her.
Advertisement
What happened was not something she expected. At worst he was going to just shrug her off, but what happened was truly bizarre. Instead of the boy turning towards her or moving against his will, Zara was the one that found herself pivoting on her front foot, as if she tried to twist the top of a giant boulder stuck two thirds in the ground. She let go and re-established her own balance.
What in all the Stars Homes did just happen? She asked herself, stunned. The boy was defying the laws of the world. Even a mountain of a man would show some effect of her attempt to spin him around. This boy was shorter and, Dark, maybe lighter than her, so how didn’t he move at all?
“Stars guide me! What is he?” she asked with an exhale, than turned towards the mysterious anomaly she was with.
He didn’t even notice, or didn’t care to show he noticed, her failed attempt at intimidation. In fact he was moving from tree to tree measuring their width with his hands. Zara watched him do it in the awkward silence she found herself in. She decided to end the silence.
“Why are you measuring he trees?” she asked no longer angry, the boy’s immovability knocking her anger out of her. “Come on. You said you would teach me. How can I learn if you don’t tell me what you are doing when I ask?” she pleaded in exasperation and a need to break the silence.
The boy turned his head from his task and looked at her. His face went from contemplative to serious. “You are right. Never done this before…” he trailed off “I am looking for a tree for you to start to practice on. That’s how my master taught us.” He returned his gaze to his work “He did have more time to prepare, so I am doing the best I can.”
Advertisement
Zara was confused. When He complained about His sword training He would always go on and on how His masters and teachers would drill stances and swings and never allowed Him to spar with the guards. She guessed that was more for His safety and to stop Him from trying to murder the employees of the castle. Why this boy needed a tree to teach her swordsmanship was baffling.
“This one will do.” The boy brought her out of her musings. She searched for him with her gaze for a second and found him looking up at an old knotted tree barely eking a part of the canopy for its own. He had his hands on his hips and was looking pretty satisfied with his find.
“You start tomorrow. Get some sleep.” The boy said turning to her. “Before you turn in though, I want to ask you something.” The boy looked her in the eyes. Zara noticed something new about him. His eyes weren’t completely black, there were strings of silver winding themselves around and into the depths of his eyes. Strangely while his gaze was intense she felt no danger in it, just deep searching and piercing of her very essence.
“What is it?” Zara asked when the silence stretched.
“What is a sword?” he asked her.
Zara frowned, ‘”What is a sword?” isn’t it obvious? A weapon.’ She opened her mouth to answer but stopped. ‘It couldn’t be that easy.’ She thought. He is obviously looking for something more. He felt like the acolytes in the temples searching for deeper meaning where there is none. She took a deep breath. “A sword is my will, my drive to strive further. To protect what I love and destroy what I hate.” That sounded deep enough.
The boy laughed, but stopped abruptly. “No.” he said “No it is not. Listen to me very closely because it is truly important. I can teach you noting if you do not understand this.” He stopped for emphasis. “A sword is a tool like any other. But its use is to reap human life. Think on this for tonight, tomorrow will leave you little time to think on this.”
And with that he brushed past her, across the camp and into his lean-to, leaving Zara with no response and a headache. ‘A tool he says. Takes one to know one’ she thought. But the idea stuck with her. Something so simple having such a grim use, and being created with a goal to kill did give additional weight to two blades she strapped to her sides.
She stood for a moment in thought. Then pulled out her waxed blanket out of her pack, found a spot in a crook of some roots on the opposite side of the camp from the boy’s lean-to. He didn’t start a fire in the pit, and she had no intention to do any more work today. She leaned back against the trunk beneath which she wrapped herself in the blanket. The last thing she remembered before a deep dreamless sleep took her was watching the boys lean to for any signs he was going to come out and towards her.
Advertisement
- In Serial26 Chapters
Magnus
Updates daily at 23:06 UTC. 2/1/2021 NOTE! This trilogy is being published by Aethon Books starting with book one on 5/1/2021. All books have been removed from RoyalRoad. This story was posted on RR in its entirety before being removed. Magnus Cromwell kills for a living. He’s organized, professional, efficient. Like a machine. But when his family’s life is on the line? That’s something else. That calls for the kind of warm-blooded vengeance that scorches earth and summons tungsten rods from space, leaves a whole lot of melted flesh, and no one to tell the tale. It should've been a blue milk run. As by-the-book as it gets. With his sister Nina out safe and the opposition decimated by hypersonic gunfire, MC wondered where they got the guts to even try. Then something hits him. Lays him out cold, and leaves him waking up to a fantasyland with nothing but his armor and a half-written note to guide him. It's a strange place where even stranger predators eye him for their next meal. Where his life’s on a timer, and where the darkest horrors haunt his dreams, painting visions of death. There's no right day to mess with Magnus Cromwell. But the universe sure managed to pick the absolute worst one. --- - MC is stone-cold, strong(OP), and gets even stronger, but he'll still face his fair share of challenges, both internal and external. - LitRPG-lite. No stats and an unconventional system. Expect abilities and progressions, but there will only ever be a handful of them. - Science Fiction and Fantasy collide, with a touch of mystery, Lovecraft, and body horror. - Professionally painted art scenes! - This series is finished. A Huge thank you to RoyalRoader MikeWe for the banner, and to NoDragons for his help editing the synopsis. Cover and scene art by the talented John Molinero Discord: https://discord.gg/s6e5rTj [participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]
8 310 - In Serial32 Chapters
Roll for Initiative
Jonathan Johnson has lead a less than comfortable life. Just as things settle down, and things start looking up life has a funny way of sweeping you off your feet. Now Jon negotiates with creatures of yore, trains burgeoning adventurers, raises dragons, and fights off creatures intent to rip the very soul from his body. The worst part is the prophecy regaling him as some sort of evil monstrosity intent on destroying the world, but nobody told him that. ---- This story is a revamp of my original story with the same name. Characters, and plot are very different. I encourage people who dropped the story to give the new version a try. Cover art cred to Sergey-Lesiuk With a slight edit by myself https://www.deviantart.com/sergey-lesiuk/art/fortune-346147525 Schedule: Atleast one chapter week. Subject to more depending on my mood, plot, and freetime.
8 164 - In Serial15 Chapters
The Last 100
The bustling crush of humanity had become common place now, the cacophony of voices and the symphony of a city had become the song and dance of our species. But it was not always such, and return back to our more humble roots we did.The system had come, and it had stripped us bare. Sure it had given us a means to power, but at what cost. We were the last 100 left. Night was falling on the human race, it was a dark night, and it was cold.But go quietly we would not. We would make the world burn with an inferno of our defiance. Rage, rage against that goodnight, and I Jack Casser, have rage a plenty. This is my story, the story of the last 100.Author Note: This story is a LitRPG apocalypse, woah fucking original idea I know but hear me out. If you can look past preconceived ideas driven by a stigma of overdone tropes and done to death plots of achieving world domination and self-righteous characters and give the story a chance I hope it can surprise you.
8 119 - In Serial6 Chapters
Son Of A King
In the land of Alkebulan the rules of the ancestors' reign supreme. What happens when a king saves a twin who was meant to die...
8 158 - In Serial25 Chapters
pears for breakfast
living proof that art is fluid in form___________________________________________a poetry anthology written in fruit juice and cheap ink -----------------------------in loving memory of the past @timespieces copyright 2018
8 146 - In Serial15 Chapters
Study Tips
These study tips helped me. I hope it will help you guys too.
8 89

