Gai woke as the sun crested the horizon, its golden rays piercing the thin veil of dawn mist that hung over the village. His body, now attuned to rising with the dawn, felt the familiar pull of morning. He dressed quickly and made his way towards the rough wooden bench where he usually prepared the morning rations for himself and his father. Instead, he found a note weighed down by a small handful of copper coins.
"Go buy something from the market. –Dad"
Lionel had already left for the day, it seemed. Gai threw on his battered old coat, now a tad too tight for his more muscular frame, and stepped into the crisp morning air. The chill bit at his cheeks, invigorating him as he headed for the village square. The cobblestone streets were still damp from the early morning dew, and a faint fog lingered in the low-lying areas.
As Gai arrived at the square, the market stalls were just beginning to open. Vendors were setting up their wares, the air filled with the sounds of clinking metal, murmured conversations, and the occasional bray of a donkey. The rich aroma of fresh bread caught his attention, drawing him towards the bakery stall. He barely registered his surroundings, entranced by the smell that promised warmth and comfort.
Gai found himself standing before Errol, the baker's son, who looked up with a nervous expression. This was the first time Gai had seen Errol since the beating, and the memory of it hung heavy between them.
"Hi, Errol," Gai greeted.
Errol looked down, ashamed. "Do you want to buy something, Gai?" he muttered.
"Yes, can I have a fresh loaf, please?" Gai spoke with confidence, shaking Errol from his stupor. Errol handed Gai a fresh loaf and took a copper piece in exchange.
"You seem different, Gai. Are you okay?" Errol asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
Before Gai could answer, a woman poked her head out from behind the stall. She was short, with blonde curly hair, covered in flour from fingers to elbows, some of it dusting her face. She gave Errol a scowl as he looked down in shame again.
"Errol, is this the Gai you and your friends have been bullying?" she asked, her tone stern. She approached Gai, giving him a once-over. "Don't know how you boys managed to pick on him; he looks nice and strong." She winked, sending Gai into a blush.
The woman chuckled and took the bread from Gai's hands, smeared the insides with butter, and handed it back to him. "There you go, lad. You have a good day, okay?" Another wink sent Gai scurrying away, more red-faced than before.
The village square was now coming alive with the hustle and bustle of morning activity. Gai weaved through the growing crowd, the fresh loaf tucked under his arm, feeling a strange mixture of embarrassment and exhilaration.
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Brushing off the crumbs of his breakfast, Gai felt fully satisfied. There was nothing better than fresh buttered bread in the morning. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden glow over the quaint cobblestone streets. The air was crisp, filled with the scents of dew-kissed earth and blooming flowers from the nearby gardens. Gai began to head home to practice some morning drills, the rhythmic chirping of birds accompanying his steps.
Suddenly, a piercing cry shattered the tranquility, emanating from an alleyway shrouded in shadow behind him. Gai's heart skipped a beat as he quickly moved towards the noise, which sounded like a child in pain. The narrow alley was damp and littered with debris, its brick walls streaked with grime. Rounding a corner, he came face to face with Roland, Louis, and Boris. The sunlight barely penetrated the alley, casting a dim light on the cruel scene.
Louis had the hair of a young girl pulled taut in his hands while both Roland and Boris threw mud at her. The girl, her dress already dirtied and torn, was crying and trying to pry Louis' hands off of her. Roland turned and sneered at Gai, his face partially obscured by the shadows. "Look who it is, Boris. He's come back for another beating." Boris laughed, a harsh sound that echoed off the walls, and wiped his muddied hands on the young girl's dress, eliciting a small whimper from her.
"Let her go!" Gai shouted. His voice reverberated through the narrow space, momentarily startling Roland and Boris. Louis loosened his grip on the girl's hair just enough for her to break free. She stumbled, then ran away down the alley, her sobs fading into the distance.
Roland turned on Louis, fury contorting his face. "You're useless!" He punched Louis in the ribs, dropping him to his knees. "This was your last chance to prove you weren't a coward like him. Now we're going to have to beat you up as well!" He pointed menacingly towards Gai. Without warning, Boris launched himself at Gai, intent on using his greater size to tackle Gai to the ground as he had done weeks before. This time, Gai was ready. He pivoted out of the way, his movements swift and fluid. As Boris careened by, Gai gave him a kick in the rear, launching Boris into the wall opposite, where he slumped, dazed.
Roland threw his fist out in a wide swing aimed directly for Gai's jaw once again. "Move your feet, son," came the words of his father to mind. In a single motion, Gai parried his foe's incoming strike and struck towards Roland's midsection with his fist. Roland gasped as Gai made contact with his sternum. Gai pushed Roland to the ground, where he lay gasping for the air that had been knocked from him. Louis, who had watched the entire altercation that lasted only moments, stammered, "Sssorry," before scrambling to his feet and fleeing after the girl.
Gai stood there for a moment, his heart thundering in his chest. He looked down at his former bullies, now laying in the mud, the early morning sun finally beginning to chase away the shadows from the alley. Taking a deep breath, Gai turned and walked home, the weight of the encounter still heavy on his mind.
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The sun was sinking below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of crimson and gold, as Gai finished his daily practice. His muscles ached from exertion, and beads of sweat glistened on his brow. With the encroaching darkness, he rushed inside to light the candles, their warm glow flickering to life and casting dancing shadows on the walls.
"I heard from Egbert today that Roland and Boris had a visit to the guardhouse this morning. Boris had quite the bump on his head. Do you know anything about that, son?" Gai's father asked, his figure silhouetted in the doorway. He leaned gently against the frame, the light from the candles illuminating his weathered face.
Gai recounted the events of the day, his father's eyes never leaving his as he listened intently. When Gai finished, his father smiled softly, a hint of pride in his eyes. "I'm proud of you, son. You've come such a long way in these short weeks." With a swift movement, Lionel unbuckled a package slung over his shoulder and laid it upon the table in the center of the room. "Open it," he said clearly, a hint of sadness in his voice.
Gai's fingers trembled with apprehension as he untied the bindings. As the cloth fell away, it revealed a beautiful longsword. The scabbard was adorned with intricate etchings that caught the candlelight, making the patterns dance. It was unlike anything Gai had ever seen.
"This will be your fifteenth summer, son, so I got you a gift," Lionel said, his voice tinged with emotion. "Your mother gave this to me, made from her homeland. Now, it is yours. And tonight is the last night we may ever see each other." The sadness in his voice was unmistakable.
Gai looked up, his heart clenching at the sight of a single tear rolling down his father's cheek. Lionel strode to a cabinet, pulled out two wooden cups and a bottle, and set them on the table. "Let's finish this up tonight. I saved it for this night. A son should always have his first drink with his father."
Moments passed, the fiery liquid burning their throats as they drank. The room filled with laughter as Lionel recounted tales of love and loss, of great victories and greater defeats. The warmth of his father's presence was a bittersweet comfort to Gai.
Later, passers-by would hear only the echoes of their laughter mingling with the night air. Gai's last memory of that night was the taste of the drink and the feel of the cool street as he emptied his stomach, the world spinning around him.