• Rising Warrior
    CHAPTER 1 - Awakening
    Tanner

    In every one of us, resides a warrior. In every one of us, resides a feirce desire to protect what we love. We are all strong, and have immense ability inside of us all. For most of us, it is just a matter of waking up to that ability. And 14-year-old Tanner was about to receive one heck of a wake-up call.
    "Tanner! GET UP!"
    He shot upright in bed so fast his head hit the boards supporting his top bunk. He flinched back and held his aching head. After a moment of rocking back and forth in pain, blinking back one or two tears, he turned his head and glared at the intruder in his room.
    His father.
    "What is it?" Tanner spat, angry because of the pain his father had just caused.
    His father was offended. His eyebrows met over feirce green eyes. "What is it? Your training begins today. Your 14th birthday was yesterday, and today you are a warrior."
    Tanner groaned and fell back on his bed, closing his eyes tightly. "Can't you just give me like, one more hour of sleep?"
    "No. I would, but the village is in desperate need of warriors. I told you - that's why we made it so boys come of age earlier."
    Tanner opened his eyes again to look at his father. A girl trotted over to his doorway, looking up at her dad, looking as if she had a question to ask. Father turned, and his cold, angry face softened. The girl smiled. "Daddy, I have to ask you something."
    "Go back and help Mommy," he told her. "I'm busy. I'll talk later."
    Tanner heaved a heavy, aggravated sigh. His father simply LOVED little Casey. When it came to him, his father was always so rough and angry. Not for the first time, he was jealous of his little sister.
    "Get up. Breakfast is ready now." His father said again, and then he left the room. Making a face, Tanner tossed off his blanket and got dressed, since he usually slept in only his boxers. He grabbed his comb and quickly combed his light brown hair, which was long and wavy and ended just below his jaw.
    When he was ready, dressed in baggy, old pants and a loose white shirt, he walked into the main room.
    The main room was a kitchen, living room, and dining room all in one - they couldn't really classify it as any of those by itself, so they just called it the main room. Sitting at the long table, sat his thin, frail mother; his strong father, and short 9-year old Emily, tearing up her pancakes. Tanner yawned, stretching, and sat at the table too. He blinked at the pancakes in front of him. They were blueberry pancakes - and he hated them. He sat there for a while, contemplating whether he should force himself to eat them or not.
    "Eat it, dear. You'll need the strength for training today," his mother said.
    "Stop being picky," added his father.
    He grumbled and ate a bite, trying not to puke. He slowly ate the rest, making a face. He hated the blueberries - if there was only a few little ones scattered around in the pancake, he wouldn't mind, but the way his mom made them, they were big blueberry bits that was in every part of the pancake almost like a chocolate chip cookie. He wished they were chocolate, but his mom said chocolate was the devil's food, and it was unholy to eat it. He gulped down each bite quickly, but it took him a while to get up the courage to take another bite.
    Tanner was very relieved when the plate was empty. Setting it in a pile next to the doorway waiting to be taken to the river, he walked outside. He walked down the dirt road, his wooden house behind him. The training square stood in the middle of their tiny village, and it was complete with bow-and-arrow targets, wooden dummies, and a series of poles, fences and walls to act as a sort of obstacle course to test the warrior's agility. It was set in the center of the village so the villagers could look down on the training, so they could see how powerful their protectors were and how well they were trained.
    Tanner trotted through the village. The sun hadn't risen above the horizon yet, but it was about to, because the blue sky was brightening and the stars were fading out. He breathed in the scent of morning as he walked along the road. The dust puffed up under his sandals, which were home-made using leather and rope.
    Soon, he stood in the training square. He was the first one there, and he sat down on one of the benches, leaning back and watching the sun rise.
    It was the first time he had been inside the training square - children that weren't of age weren't allowed in - but he didn't feel the need to look around. He had watched the warriors train there so much he was bored of the scenery. He never wanted to be a warrior. If he told his father that, his father would be angry. "So you don't want to be a man, my boy? Being a warrior is a responsibilty, a responsibility to the whole town, and it is also a way to prove that you are strong. When you fight for this village, only then can you be considered a man." That's what he would say. Tanner didn't like to argue with his dad, so he would train to be a warrior - reluctantly, at least. What made it even worse, was that his father was actually the one who's job was to train the new fighters, and it would be a huge dissapointment to everyone if his son didn't train. The son of the best fighter in the whole village - everyone was looking forward to seeing Tanner fight. But he didn't like being labeled by what his father had done.
    He yawned, boredly, seeing the rays of the sun light up the horizon, taking away the cold, blue light and replacing it with warm, golden light. His father should appear soon. Already, one of the other 14-year-olds climbed over the short fence to join him. Whoever he was, he seemed to sense that Tanner wasn't in a talking mood, so he sat on the bench beside him without a word, and they both looked at the sun. Tanner didn't need to look at the boy to tell he was nervous - he could feel the fear coming off of him in waves. He was nervous of his first days of training. The boy admired Tanner's calmness, and wished he could be that calm too. Most of the fear, though, was not knowing what their teacher would be like.
    Before his dad came, yet another boy appeared. He seemed excited, and Tanner saw the 'I'm better than everyone else' smirk on his face. Tanner almost got up and punched him in the face, the smirk was so annoying. Great, he thought, Another arrogant peice of crap determined to make my life a nightmare.
    Every boy in the village was jealous of Tanner because he was the son of a famous warrior. All of them were determined to make themselves better than Tanner and do everything in their power to slow his progress. He knew this because quite a few boys had already threatened him with this. He wasn't worried about the terrified boy next to him, he was worried about the other one, and he gave the other boy an analyzing stare. The boy had short-cropped blonde hair, and appeared very strong. His eyes were a bored, tired shade of brown, and his smirk was actually quite evil and frightening. He held himself with authority, as if he thought he owned the whole world, but it only made him seem like a terrible person with pride issues.
    Their teacher soon appeared, carrying five swords, with one for himself. Tanner realized someone else was supposed to come - he thought the other two were the only ones. But apparently, the other boy was running late. It was a custom of warrior training to arrive before the teacher. If you came after, you were considered tardy. Tanner felt sorry for the boy, because he knew his father's temper.
    But to his surprise, when the next boy appeared, his father did not yell. Tanner narrowed his eyes and looked at the kid, and then to his father. His father was actually smiling quite fondly at the boy! He was confused, and even a little angry. This boy - this boy that wasn't even part of the family - had earned his father's trust, and Tanner, his son, had no important place in his father's heart. That kid's not your son! I am! Tanner felt like shouting this out loud. He closed his eyes, gave a sigh, and emptied his mind. He was quite good with calming techniques. When he opened his eyes again, the boy was standing besides his father.
    "I'm going to introduce you all," his father said, with his booming, commanding voice. "This, right here, is Ryan. He is the youngest of you, he's actually 13, so I expect you all to be nice. Now," he said, pointing at Tanner, "This is my son, if you didn't know that already. His name is Tanner. I want you boys to teach this kid a lesson - he is lazy, and has never wanted to be a warrior, even though it is his responsibility as a man in this village. So make him strong for me, because I have given up hope on giving him the spirit he needs."
    Tanner rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at his father. He listened as his father named the other two boys. The shy, nervous one was Andrew, and the stuck-up one was Lucus. The boy, when named, immediately informed Tanner's father that he wanted to be called Luke. His father gave him a steady, feirce glare, and puffed up like an angry rooster. He did not like being interrupted.
    At last, the introductions were over. As Tanner's dad passed out swords, he said, "I want you all to call me 'Sir.' Say 'yes, sir' and 'no, sir' when I ask you a question. I want you all to be polite and treat me like what I am - your authority. Whenever you feel it is correct, you may call me by my name, Koga. It is a true warrior's name, the name of the man who founded this village, so I hope you respect that. Alright! Now that you all have your swords, I am going to take you through basic moves and stretches. Every fiber of your body must be flexible, agile - you must be able to dance around your opponent and avoid their blows. So! Take your sword, point it straight out, and move it around. Make sure you're far enough apart so you don't hurt each other. Get a feel for the sword's balance - it should feel like an extension of your arm."
    Lucus (Tanner refused to call him Luke) made a disapproving face as he held his sword. "The balance is all wrong," he growled. "I hate it."
    Tanner smirked, twirling his sword around. "Ah, mine feels perfect. It's really easy, Lucus, if you're smart enough," he said. He made his voice sharp and sarcastic, and he saw the boy's fist clench. Tanner walked away, twirling his sword like it was the easiest thing in the world. He was trying to get the stuck-up boy's attention - he wanted to show him how much better he was. After a couple prancing steps, he stopped twirling his sword and thrust it into the ground beside him. He turned around, leaned against the sword, and gave the boy a smug smirk.
    He meant for only Lucus to see it, but all three of the boys were staring at him - and they looked offended. Worst of all, his father had seen. The mean, strong face looked so much meaner; flushed beet red with anger. The fists were clenched so hard, he could see the veins sticking out strongly against the tanned skin. Tanner winced.
    He knew his father was not jealous - there was no way the strongest warrior of the village could be jealous of a little kid - but his father did not like people who showed off. "Arrogant, arrogant boy!!!" His father boomed. He stormed over, his face completely terrifying. His son closed his eyes, but no blow came. Koga continued to yell.
    "None of you, I say none of you, may show off like this child right here. A true warrior does not show off! He defends modestly those he must defend. Only a villain shows off. Tanner, you foolish idiot, go sit and watch how real warriors train."
    Tanner backed away. He didn't like to admit it, but his father scared him. Nothing in the world scared him, but Koga. His father always called him weak and lazy and scared, but really, he wasn't any of those things. Lazy, maybe, but not weak or scared. Andrew was weak and scared. His father seemed a little confused.
    As Tanner sat on the bench, watching the other three boys perfect their position, their grip on the sword, and attempt to copy his father's agile moves. Swords sliced through the air, the bodies spinned and parried invisible blades, and Tanner watched the amazing spectacle with no interest at all. He sighed, blowing a strand of his long brown hair out of his face.
    His father would be expecting him to think about his actions - and he was, to a degree. Instead of lamenting how bad he had acted, he thought about how the sword had balanced, how his body moved with the sword in harmony. All the boys that were practicing in front of him displayed jerky, hesitant movements... but Tanner had not. To them, it seemed so difficult, but to Tanner, it really was easy. He wasn't just showing off, faking it. It actually was simple for him. When his hand touched that blade, when he lifted it, he knew in his heart that it was a gift he had, that he would grow to be a strong fighter and maybe even a hero...
    But he didn't want to.
    Too much work. The blade, when I hold it, it slices through the air like butter... but it's still too much work... Watching Andrew, Lucus, and Ryan train, his eyes started to drift closed, and before he even knew it, he had dozed off.



    *-------------------------------*



    "Hey, Tanner, get up."
    "Leave me alone."
    "The mosquitoes are gonna get ya."
    Tanner opened his eyes and looked at the boy. It was Ryan. Frowning, he sat up. "Where is everyone?"
    "Went home."
    "Oh."
    "I'm waiting here for my dad. He's taking Belle and Tony, our horses, and we're going to town. The village cheif decided we needed more supplies, and since the Pattersons moved out, we're the only ones with strong horses that can take us there fast enough. Cheif trusts us."
    Tanner didn't answer, he just stood to his feet.
    "Oh, your swords still in the ground over there... your dad told us to take our swords home to practice."
    Tanner silently walked over and yanked his sword out of the ground. He frowned at the blade - the smooth, shining steel was now coated in dirt. It ruined its glorious look.
    "That used to be Koga's sword when he was training. My dad told me. You see the K carved into the leather handle?"
    Tanner looked. It looked like his dad's handwriting.
    "Yeah, your dad carved that letter when he was younger. Used some sort of knife, looks like it cut through the leather very easily. If only I had a knife that sharp."
    "You have a sword, why do you need a knife?"
    "You can't carry a sword in your pocket, can you?"
    "True." Tanner lifted his sword and carefully wiped the dirt off with his hand. He was aware of the boy watching him.
    "He gave us scabbards too. Go get yours." Ryan said.
    Tanner looked across the feild. A leather sword sheath leaned against one of the fighting dummies. "Scabbards... isn't that a desert term for sword sheath? Sounds like foreign speak."
    "I was born in the deserts across seas. The world of Alina is a big, big place."
    Alina. That was the name of the lands they lived on. Their world was a fascinating place - evenly divided between enchanting, calm forests and terrifying red valcanoes. It was a world stuck in medieval times, the time of kings and palaces and grand carriages that served as their main means of transportation. But that was their world.
    "The deserts? That's a harsh place. When did you move here? I haven't seen you around." Tanner picked up the sheath, slung it across his back using the strap, and put the sword away. He looked around, feeling the breeze caress his face, and he listened as Ryan replied.
    "We moved here last week. I had to stay inside a lot because I was sick. Just a few days ago I started coming outside. I like your village. It's dusty, and hot all the time, but that's what I'm used to. It's great."
    Tanner heard a rattling noise, and turned his head. Trotting up towards them, were two beautiful horses. One was the darkest shade of black, and the one beside it was a palomino color with a blond mane woven with ribbons. Behind them was pulled an old, rusty carriage, the wheels creaking as it rolled along. The friendly-looking man riding in it pulled the horses to a stop. A light cloud of dust came up from under the horses' hooves.
    "Ryan, my boy, it's time to leave." he called. Even his voice was friendly - it seemed like the kind of voice that would sound kind even if it was shouting. Ryan smiled, and walked up to the carriage. Tanner followed, wanting to meet the horses. As father and son talked, he examined them, running his hand across the broad, strong backs, feeling the hard muscles under the skin. "These are good horses," he said. "Finest animals I've seen. They're part Mustang, aren't they?"
    Ryan's dad nodded, and he looked proud.
    "Mustangs are a good breed, too. They've got a lot of strength and endurance, not to mention sure-footedness. So, which one's which?"
    The friendly man guestured to the black one. "This is Tony. He's the older one. He's five years now. Now this little lady over here, with the ribbons, is Belle. She's four. We just bought her from the town five months ago. She's a kind little girl, the most outgoing one I've ever met. You don't have to have carrots to earn her friendship."
    Tanner nodded. "I love horses. If only I could afford a horse, I'd come to town with you and buy one myself."
    "You must be a very good horseman. Can you ride?"
    "Yes. It's been a while, but I can."
    Ryan climbed into the carriage. "Hey, Tanner, wanna come with us to town? We can see how much horses cost there. Maybe you do have enough money."
    Tanner thought about it. For a moment he was silent. "Sure," he replied, after making his decision. He climbed into the carriage.
    The ride was a long and bumpy one, that tested his patience. However, he'd never been far from their village, so it was an exciting experience. He watched the dusty roads and the barren ground transform into firm dirt and green fields. The breeze smelled sweeter here... it smelled of grass and flowers and trees and fresh earth... and the air was moist. Much better than the dry air back home.
    After a long while, during which his legs had begun to cramp up, the carriage slowed to a halt. The horses tossed their heads and snorted, annoyed that their fun jog was over. Ryan's dad climbed out of the carriage, patting the horses and saying words of thanks to them. Ryan and Tanner climbed out of the carriage too.
    As soon as Tanner's feet hit paved stone, he was amazed. The scenery here was completely different - not only the lush background, but the buildings that surrounded them. He looked in amazement at the gray cobblestone road beneath his feet, and then up at the carriages that trotted on by. There were 4 carriages out at once, which completely amazed him. Back home, not even one carriage would appear in the course of a month, but here, the roads were very busy. He looked at the buildings - they were big, and way better built than the miserable cabins they lived in. Two children laughed as they raced together across the road, and a man smoked a cigar outside of a building with a big sign that read 'BAR'.
    Just as Tanner had grown used to these surroundings, he was shocked speechless once again. The guards! They marched through, their silver plate-armor glinting in the sunlight. Glorious sheilds were buckled to each left arm, with a great drawing of a roaring lion painted on each. The swords were broad, and they looked very heavy, but devastatingly sharp. The sharp edge that glinted on the mighty blades made Tanner's sword look like a butter knife. While he gazed at the spectacle with wide eyes, he could sense Ryan's father tense up beside him.
    "Why are they marching like that?" he heard Ryan ask his dad. Tanner pulled back into reality, realizing that the warriors were marching quite oddly. None of them looked relaxed, they all seemed tense. This marching they were doing definitely did not look like a drill.
    "Something's happening," Ryan's father said quietly. "Either someone is attacking the town, or the troops are moving out for war. Either way, it doesn't look good."
    Tanner looked around the town again. The man smoking his cigar had vanished. The children stopped dead in their tracks, watching the guards with horror-filled eyes. They knew something was going on!
    "Get back! Get back! All of those who are prepared to defend this town, get your armor on and get a move on! The town is being attacked! The town is being attacked!" yelled the leader of the squad. He urged his troops forward, and they charged to the entrance of the town. Tanner looked down the street to the other entrance, and saw that more guards were settling into battle position there. He could feel the terror in the air - sensing emotions was one of his talents.
    A baby cried, the squad leaders shouted out commands, and the two kids still stood horrified. Tanner growled to himself, and ran towards the kids. "Get inside! Didn't you hear the man? It's not safe out here. Go!" he shouted at them, and they quickly scurried into the nearest building. He huffed in annoyance, and went back to Ryan's dad. His dad pulled the both of them inside a building, and they crouched at the window. Ryan looked scared, and his dad looked angry. "Third time this month!" Ryan's father said bitterly. "Why must that stupid empire be so fixed on conquering this town?! It's as much as a home to me as our village of Kogan!"
    Ryan's eyes seemed angry now, too, hearing his father's words. Tanner sighed, watching through the window. For a moment, the town was silent. Nothing moved. Then the cries of battle rang through the empty roads, as the guards relentlessly defended the entrances to their home...
    Tanner suddenly reached a decision. He wanted to defend this town as well. He hated hiding in this building and not being able to do anything. He reached for his sword, determined.
    But could he win?
    He didn't think about that, he just leaped through the open window. "Tanner!" Ryan cried out, but he did not listen. The sword was drawn, now, and Tanner was charging into battle. It wasn't long before he barreled into the mass of fighting bodies at the town's north entrance.