The boy opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling above his bed. A sudden burst of lightning from outside bathed his face in a yellow light for an instant before disappearing. The boy in one last feeble attempt at sleep, pulled the covers up to his neck and closed his eyes. He waited there thinking of the storm outside and whether or not sleep would take him into her loving embrace. Fifteen minutes had past before the boy opened his eyes again. He sighed and stood up out of his bed.
'I guess i'm not getting any sleep tonight' He thought to himself.
The boy walked to his window and looked out through its rain streaked panes. He looked from one house to the next in his village, then to the wall that guarded his home from the swarms of monsters that waited outside.
Looking up the gatehouse tower he saw the light of the lone night watchman. Opening the window slightly he could hear the noise of the rain outside on the road.
KRACK! Another bolt of lightning hit just outside the walls setting a tree alight. The flames were quickly put out though by the heavy rain.
A gust of wind blew cold air and rain into the window. The boy shivered, stepped back and closed the window. The boy continued to stare out the window at the tree line past the gates. The next flash of lightning silhouetted a few beowolves rushing the wall. Then came the sound of turret fire from the wall. The sound lasted for about thirty seconds then stopped.
Assuming the beowolves had been killed the boy turned away from his window. He walked over to his wall opposite his bed where his weapon was mounted. Removing it from the wall he tucked it under his arm and proceeded to his door. He opened it slowly making sure it did not squeak and cautiously poked his head out into the hallway. Looking to his right he was relieved to see that neither was his parents door open nor was their light on. HE did not want to be caught sneaking around the house with his weapon after his parents had sent him to bed.
The boy slowly stepped out into the hallway and, keeping as little weight off the ground as possible so as not to make the floor squeak and alert his parents, he walked silently down the hall. Looking back once more the boy was glad to see that there was still no light on in his parents room. He took another step forward but was not cautious enough. The floor let out a squeak which, if other noise had been present, wouldn't have been so loud but in the absence of any other noise seemed very loud. The boy froze instantly and slowly turned his head to look at his parents room. The boy stood frozen for about a minute before deciding it was safe to continue his quest. He turned back and continued down the hallway as it made a right turn and ended abruptly at some stairs. Descending the stairs the boy began to think about his combat training with the village master. The boy had always been good at fighting and hoped to make it into a combat school someday.
Reaching the end of the stairs the boy walked quickly to a large room on his left an turned on the lights. The floor was covered in bamboo mats and there were a few straw training or sparring dummies around the room. The boy unsheathed his weapon a long sword that could transform into two dis-connectable shotguns. First the boy practiced his strikes in the air than moved on to striking the dummies.
After a good hour of practice the boy sat down to take a break and get a drink of water.