If you spot any mistakes, please point them out so I can fix them. I try to get them all out before post, but some slip-through regardless.

I'm sorry this chapter is short, but I hope you enjoy!

This is a strange case of being shorter than usual, but I have a ton of stuff going on IRL. I apologize in advance.

Chapter 08 – Foundational Training

*CLASH!*, *CLANG!*, *WOOSH!* The sounds of steel colliding echoed through the field as the Hawks trained on the side of the road.

A concerned Judeau took another examination on Zombie's face on behalf of Dante's testimony.

"I keep telling you: Zombie's scars were bleeding like a stuck pig! I saw it with my own eyes." Dante testified.

"Yeah, and a magical fairy dropped by to heal Zombie's face faster than he could bleed to death for a second time." Corkus jested, as he always did.

"Explain the torn shirt, then! Something obviously did happen, but the bastard's mute!" Errol rebutted.

"Whatever it was-…" Judeau dabbed the damp rag over Zombie's face, cleaning the twin-scars while confirming their condition.

"It seems healed-up now." He put the rag in a bucket of clean water, rinsed and wringed the water out.

"Did you feel anything when it started bleeding, Zombie?" He asked.

"No, and that's exactly what's freaking me out." Zombie shook his head side-to-side.

"Hmm." Judeau acknowledged.

"I've witnessed wounds reopen before – nothing eluding to this specifically, but I'm confident that this was simply a coincidence. Nothing ominous, nothing cursed. Just a coincidence." He rose from his seat and patted Zombie on the shoulder.

"If I'm remembering correctly, the brand of sacrifice is supposed to hurt like a son-of-a-gun if apostles are nearby, but I didn't even know it was bleeding until I put my hand on my face, because I thought I was crying!" He bit his cheek.

"Your paradise no longer exists" The woman's words echoed in his head.

"Maybe what Dante said was just that upsetting for me, so the twin scars just reopened from agitation, as Judeau said?" Abel took a deep breath.

"Oh, and before I forget!" Judeau took out a length of notched rope and started taking measurements of Zombie's body.

"What's this?" The disfigured stranger speculated.

"Hmm." Judeau continued.

"Zombie, raise your arm." He addressed.

Abel complied. Judeau continued measuring.

"Alright, that does challenge things a little." He put the measuring rope away.

"Excuse me? Are we just going to ignore that there's a giant chunk of Zombie's shirt missing?" Dante pointed out.

"He probably got it snagged on a tree or something and it ripped! It's fine." Corkus didn't care.

"Enough." A familiar voice caught everyone's attention.

"Oh great! What did I do wrong this time?" Abel turned his attention to the grass, hoping to avoid eye-contact.

"How's the Wiedergänger doing?" Casca adjusted the reigns on her horse.

"Nothing irreparable, but we do have a problem…" Judeau nodded, getting up from his seat.

"Oh god, what is it?" Zombie swallowed, not wanting to be in trouble.

"He's not going to fit into any of the plate armor we have. Do we still have some of those chain shirts?"

"I'll check while I'm dropping these off." Rickert replied as he finished fletching a pair of crossbow bolts.

"Perfect!" Judeau nodded, mounting back on his horse.

"Wait, what about training?" Errol raised.

"Do it from horseback. We have to get moving!" Casca answered before leaving alongside Judeau.

"You heard the lady! On your horses!" Corkus instructed.

"Oof!" Zombie felt what he initially mistook for a broomstick shoved into his chest.

"You DO know which end of a weapon to hold, don't you?" Dante joked as he mounted his horse, brandishing a stick of his own.

"What's up? You heard the man. Get to it!" He waited for Zombie to catch up.

Abel got back onto his horse and rode alongside Dante.

"Alright Zombie, I don't know how much experience you have, so we're going to start with what we have, and work forward. Do you have a problem with that?"

Abel shook his head side-to-side.

"Good. Let us get started. En' Garde!" He telegraphed an overhead swing.

Abel raised his ' 'sword' ' to block the strike.

*Twack*, the training blades caught each other in a bind.

*THWACK!*

Dante took full advantage of his opponent's hesitation during the bind, punishing with a strike right under Zombie's armpit.

"Ow!" Abel rubbed the area, trying to soothe the pain.

"Yeah, this shirt did nothing to cushion the blow!" He silently complained.

"I take it no one's taught you how to deflect?" Dante asked.

Abel continued rubbing his still aching side.

"I'll take that as a yes." He nodded.

"Alright, let's try again then – and please, don't accidentally strike your horse." Dante brought his horse parallel to one of the wagons and motioned Zombie to follow him.

Dante reached in and pulled out some sort of really thick, padded, long-sleeve jacket.

"Here, put this on." He handed it over to Abel.

"This is your Gambeson! Usually, you wear this underneath armor because its job is to cushion the impact of getting bodied by weapons – like our training equipment." He pointed to the now-reddening bruise on Zombie's side.

"Put it on and get used to it, because you're going to be wearing it A LOT!"

Abel nodded as he donned the padded jacket onto his body.

Dante continued down the road a little ways away from the moving convoy, waiting for Zombie to catch up on horseback.

Abel rubbed his side again, partly upset, mostly in pain.

"Oi! What's the holdup?" Dante waved him over.

"Your paradise no longer exists" The words haunted Abel again. A shiver ran up his spine before he could shake it off.

Lost in the surrealism of the moment, he blinked when his horse started trotting forward without his input.

"Alright. Let us try this again!" Dante smiled, readying his weapon (the training stick).

Abel's arm was getting tired, so he switched from his right hand to his left.

"Wait, are you actually left-handed?" Dante blinked, raising an eyebrow.

Abel shrugged.

"… Huh. Interesting." Dante brushed the detail off.

Zombie and Dante continued training from horseback for a while, continuing down the road parallel with the Hawk convoy.

An hour passed, so they rode up to one of the supply wagons and requested some water. After a quick five-minute break, the two returned to training again, still from horseback, still keeping up with the wagons.

The rode came to a hill, where Dante and Zombie rode to the top.

"Alright Zombie. After this one, we're done for the day."

"Good. Both my arms are sore, and I'm tired of getting hit." Abel nodded, taking a breath, adjusting his shoulders with a stretch and a yawn.

Dante smiled.

"Dismount." He got off his horse and assumed a fencing stance.

"Wait, what?" Abel blinked.

"Since we're settling down for the night, I figured that footwork would be a perfect note to end on."

Abel complied, taking a stance that mirrored Dante's after dismounting his horse.

"In hindsight, I think footwork should've been the first lesson, but we're noticeably short on time." Dante held his smile.

The two held their stances atop of a hill with the sun setting on the horizon to their side.

Dante held his weapon with a single arm, keeping to his stance. Across from him, Zombie held his training sword with both hands.

The time of day and seasons were different, but the arching scenery of the hill, the setting sun, and a tree held an uncanny familiarity.

Neither Zombie nor Dante noticed, but some of the other hawks did, gathering a secret audience.

Dante took ground and swung.

*Twack!*, *Woosh!*

Zombie deflected and riposte. Dante retreated a step, lest Zombie's swing land on him.

Zombie took the ground Dante gave and prodded at his defense. Dante gave an overhead swing.

*Woosh!*

Instead of deflecting, Zombie retreated, giving the center back to Dante.

"Wait, did Zombie just flinch?" One of the hawks observed.

"I dunno. I'm just here to enjoy the tussle."

"This isn't a tussle… They're playing! Watch!"

The hawks observed the two continue.

*Twack* *Twack*, *Woosh!*

Zombie and Dante exchanged again.

"I need to get a solid hit in soon. My arms feel like they're on fire." Abel bit his cheek and remembered to breathe. The moment he was finished with the thought, Dante telegraphed a horizontal sweep.

"Possible feint?" Zombie kept up his guard, keeping his knees bent.

It was indeed a feint. Dante repositioned for an overhead strike and swung.

*THWACK!*

Zombie struck the training switch with his own as hard as he could, snapping Dante's wooden club in half.

"THERE!" Zombie followed up with a thrust, but something happened at the worst possible moment.

Dante caught the stick.

The worst possible thing that could happen next, did: Abel hesitated in surprise, giving Dante the time he needed to throw himself at Zombie, tackling him and sending both of them rolling down the grassy hill.

Down the hill, they both rolled. Once they had finished, Abel blinked.

"What the hell just happened?!" He looked around confused.

"Dante, you al-" Abel's thought were interrupted by a fun laughter as Dante turned face-up, absolutely amused.

Dante's laughter became infectious.

"That… was fun. That actually was fun!" Abel smiled, giggling to himself.

"Dante! Zombie! You alright?" Rickert called-out from the top of the hill.

"We're fine!" Dante raised a thumbs-up before getting up to dust himself off.

"Alright, we should be getting back then. Gaston should be on his way with our horses." He reached his hand out to Zombie, offering to help him up.

He accepted.

"We wouldn't want to keep everyone waiting!" Dante straightened out his back and started walking towards the road.

"… Did I ever do anything like this back home?" Abel asked himself.

"Did I and Cain ever do anything like this?" The piece asked another question.

For a moment, Abel paused as he tried to remember one good memory he had between him and Cain. He remembered passing him by in the house, he remembered eating at the same table, taking the same classes in school.

"Did Cain and I… even do anything together?" Abel carefully pushed himself to try to remember anything about Cain that wasn't them arguing, or fighting, or disagreeing.

"Hey! Come on already!" Dante waved for Zombie to follow.

"… No, I didn't."

He ran to catch up to Dante.

"Will I have the chance to anymore?" The realization hit Abel like a truck.

"… No. I'm gonna make it back. I'm gonna change for the better. I'm gonna apologize for my end of things and be a better brother." Abel took a deep breath, trying everything he could to quench a silent voice screaming at the back of his head.

"Hey, Gaston! Thanks for grabbing our horses." Dante thanked as he took the reins.

"No problem." Gaston turned to head back to the convoy.

Dante handed the reigns of Zombie's horse over.

"Hey, it's been a long time since I've been able to rough-house like that." There was something in his voice that Abel failed to detect immediately.

"That was fun. Thank you, Zombie."

Abel paused after taking the reins of his horse, processing.

"See you at camp!" Dante got on his horse and rode off.

"You-… I was thanked?" Abel froze like a cold hamburger, unsure of how to take it.

"When did-…" He first searched himself, then what little he remembered from his old life.

"… When I get back. When I get back." Abel repeated his thoughts as he mounted his ride and rode back to the convoy, shaking his head.

"I'll be a better person. I promise that!" As Abel was lost in the surrealism of the moment, Zombie anchored his heels and pushed himself forward.

If you're reading this, then you've finished chapter 8 of Luck most foul.

I hope you enjoyed, and I hope to have another chapter done sometime soon, as this one was way too short in comparison to others.

If you've caught any mistakes, be free to point them out to me so I can fix those immediately, as I can't fix it if I don't spot it, and I tend to fail spot checks very often.

I do update my chapters with fixes and such, just thought I'd let you know!

Thank you very much for your time. Let me know your thoughts. Have a good rest of your day/evening!