Hello guys, chapter three is here! I know I took a long break, but I do plan to update this thing still. Thank you for all the reviews, especially the advice on my writing. I also have a question for you: Can anyone tell me how to make line breaks happen up here?
Chapter 3
As the days passed on their trek to the the mountains of Barr, Albel had begun to observe Fayt more closely than before. But unlike during their trip to Peterny for supplies, now Fayt seemed almost ease under his watch. It was infuriating that the maggot seemed to no longer find him threatening after their midnight chat, and he would have taken more issue with it if it didn't afford him a boon: It was easier to observe him when he was acting so relaxed.
He would figure him out yet, pull him apart and see what made him tick... and then he'd have the fool at his mercy when he least expected it, prove himself the stronger. It was a perfect opportunity to observe his prey when the fool offered his trust so freely, even if he would ever doubt the sense in such a choice.
And after some time watching Fayt fight, he had come to an amusing conclusion.
The fool liked to fight. Reveled in it, even. For all he talked big, the eager light in his eyes when they engaged the monsters that inhabited the mountain pass spoke for him. He wasn't as obvious about it like the blonde man named Cliff, but he'd seen the signs clear as day in the way he became alert when they ran into a group of beasts, in how he threw himself into battle with a vigor that was more than the desire to protect oneself. Truly, he should have seen it the first time they fought.
It was almost like it was sport to him at times. The boy might claim to not understand his desire to be strong, but he certainly seemed to take his own variety of fulfillment from the battles they found on their path through the mountains. On occasion, he could even spot a small grin on his face after a particularly exciting battle, or hear him mutter something about it being fun.
But another thing he noticed provided him with more confusion. While Fayt fought with sttength and skill, there was something off about how he fought. He was strong, but there was no uniformity in how he moved. It wasn't the fighting style of a soldier for sure; it was what he'd seen more often in mercenaries, or a layman.
It left him with a very important question, one he needed an answer to:
Where in the world had he learned how to fight?
