Yo, uhh…sorry for the long wait…my beta came out of the void! Or, back to town. Well, I put this up as soon as I got the chap back, so you can't complain!
Enjoy!
Training
When Galbatorix awoke before dawn the next day, there was a dagger held to his throat and a hand held in front of him. A thief, he thought. Galbatorix sighed and went for his money sack, acting as is he was going along with the thief, but as the robber relaxed he suddenly rolled under him whilst bringing out his sword.
"Run or you die!"
The robber laughed. "What have I to fear from a little runt like you?"
"A lot," Galbatorix replied before bringing his sword around in an arc towards the robber's neck, who stared dumbly at the sword as his head was chopped off. "Scum," he said before spitting on the ground next to the thief's decapitated head.
The thief had a bit of money on him, which Galbatorix took. He left the body where it had fallen and stretched, realizing with a tiny jolt of surprise that he felt nothing for the man he'd just killed.
Why should he feel something for scum like them? Stealing from other people to make their life easier, when their victims' lives where hard enough without being robbed.
I wouldn't mind if they robbed the rich people, who do nothing for the poor. He mused next to the corpse.
Galbatorix decided to make his way to the barracks a little early. He scaled up the wall onto the roof of a house and made his way to the training grounds where he had been training before, jumping from roof to roof like a monkey.
When he reached the grounds the trainer wasn't there, as he had expected, so he decided to do some strength and stamina training. He ran laps around the training area, doing twenty press-ups at each corner for around an hour before the trainer turned up, who watched the little runt run.
Impressive, he thought to himself as Galbatorix sprinted around, never faltering, for another twenty minutes. After that time the trainer stepped out, deciding to find out how well he could fight after fifty minutes of non-stop fitness training.
"BOY!" He roared across the field as Galbatorix got up from doing fifty press-ups. "COME HERE!"
Galbatorix jogged over at a steady pace, regaining his breath before the sword training. When he arrived the trainer threw a wooden sword at him, which he caught, and the older man began tutoring him.
He began by showing Galbatorix how to properly stand in defensive and offensive, which Galbatorix learned rather quickly. He then had a spar with him to end the lesson. Although Galbatorix had beaten the recruit, he was no match for the trainer, who disarmed and 'killed' him within thirty seconds.
"You're learning fast,"
"Thank you," Galbatorix replied whilst bowing.
"I think, you deserve to know my name, so you may find me if you're ever in need. My name is Jarnun,"
"And mine is Galbatorix, though I doubt you will want to find me if you're in need,"
Jarnun chuckled lightly at that, "Nay, I doubt I would. Anyway, this is the end of our lesson. Come at dawn every morning if you can, and we shall continue your training. And do as much strength training as you can, but keep your arms fast."
With that he left Galbatorix in the field, making his way home, or so Galbatorix thought. When he was in the shadows and out of Galbatorix's sight he turned and watched Galbatorix, following him as he made his way home.
Galbatorix made his way to the outer area of the city, taking a detour to go past his old home. When he was nearly there, he faltered a little, before squaring his shoulders and walking in. He cried out in shock at what he saw; everything of worth had been taken, even the metal surrounding the fireplace.
He tentatively made his way to his parents old bedroom and looked under the bed. None of the floorboards looked out of place. With his posture relaxing slightly he went to a floorboard that looked exactly the same to the others and pulled it up. He almost cried in relief when he saw that the family heirlooms were still there. He made a decision there and then to brave the memories of the place to stop it falling into worse condition.
Besides,he thought, doing the place up will strengthen my arms.
He went into his room only to find the bed had gone, so he took the bed from his parents' bedroom and moved it into his, prying up a floorboard to hide the family heirlooms, leaving the one in his parent's bedroom open so any thieves thought they were already gone.
After doing that he decided to go out and find his possessions.
This is going to be a long and hard road to walk,he thought grimly, thinking of all the places they could be. He would've started there and then, but decided that, since he'd been training all day, he should probably sleep first.
He collapsed onto his bed and slept without thinking anymore thoughts.
Jarnun, having seen all of this, felt pity for the boy. So that is why he is training with me and not his father.His parents are dead.Must've been hard surviving without parents; maybe that's why he's so hard.
The next morning, Galbatorix awoke at dawn. He went to the store room before remembering that there was no food there anymore.
"Barzûl," he said to himself quietly. He'd have to eat later. He made his way to the training grounds along the rooftops as he had the day before, mostly for speed and to keep his body lithe and agile.
When he arrived, as instructed he began running around the grounds doing twenty press-ups at each corner, until he was called over by Jarnun thirty minutes later.
Jarnun had bought a loaf of bread for Galbatorix, which he threw at Galbatorix when he was close enough. He watched with amusement as Galbatorix tore into the loaf as if his life would end did he not eat it within a minute. When he was done he looked up at Jarnun, wordless thanks in his eyes.
"Now, answers," Jarnun said.
"What answers?" Galbatorix replied.
"Why do you want to learn to fight?"
"To survive,"
"No ulterior motive? Revenge perhaps?"
"No," He said, eyes hard, daring Jarnun to challenge his word.
"Very well, if you wish it that way," was Jarnun's reply, before he threw a wooden sword at the boy.
As soon as Galbatorix caught the sword he moved in and attacked. Every now and again he would shout at Galbatorix to lean further forwards, or widen his stance, or lower his body.
"Attack," he said thirty minutes later, whilst slipping into defensive stance seamlessly.
Galbatorix obliged and began attacking him, using every trick he knew, even resorting to trickery to try and beat Jarnun, but as before he was just too good. Jarnun twirled his sword around Galbatorix's wrenching it out of his hands before bringing his sword up to his neck, below the chin.
"Dismissed, go and refurbish your house for the rest of the day."
Galbatorix bowed before running away to begin the task of refurbishing his house. Unbeknown to him a black shape glided away, silent as the wind, and just as hard to see.
I'm not gonna turn into one of those writers who won't update without reviews, but they would be appreciated! Anyway, 1st person to guess what the black shape is can get, maybe plotline or unbeta'd version of next chap?
Well, off to school, cya!
