By this time many things had been built on the valley. One of these things was the sparring ground. This is where the fight was about to take place. I spent all week in preparation! My sword had been sharpened about 50 times and its shine was almost unbearable by now. I spent a lot of time meditating under a huge oak tree. My training had stepped up a notch and I had just learned how to deal with multiple opponents. It was tough work and it had paid off. I now knew how to disable 5 people with 1 stroke of the sword. Now I could even take on the dragon with considerable ease.

The night had finally come and my opponent was a young lad who had been taught the sword from about the age of 5. His life WAS the sword and I knew this would be a hard fight, but I was willing to do it to show Xandile that his training had not gone to waste. The sparring ground was surrounded with all the people I had made friends with over the last few months. In my corner was Xandile and Crystal. I hadn’t seen much of Crystal the last few months and she looked great now. Still adorned with the armour she had gained so long ago. I was happy for her. She seemed to have fitted right into place here. It was obvious that she was of true mage blood. The whole valley was lit by torch light and it looked beautiful. This wasn’t normal light though. It was mage light which was blue in colour. The whole valley looked like it was created of ice. I was in a stare out contest with my opponent. It was a draw in the end as some inconsiderate person walked past our line of vision. It was just as he was weakening as well.

The time had finally come and we walked forward. Everyone in the valley had turned out for tonight. We shook hands and drew swords. A pre decided referee raised his hand, drew power in from the mage fire, which flickered as it lost energy, and shot a single bolt up into the air. Before it had even exploded we were at each other. The metallic clang sounded as we clashed swords in the centre of the ground. Our blades were perilously close to our faces. We pushed away and began to circle each other. He lunged at my left side and instinct took over. I parried with ease and then made a sweep upwards, designed to go in at the stomach and leave at the neck, the ‘Freingate’, one of my favourites. He leapt back and parried the stroke. I was beginning to like this man. He was enjoying himself almost as much as I was.

We began to circle once more and I caught my foot on a rock. The youngster took the advantage and he dove forward and slashed at my face. He sliced the bridge of my nose. It went deep and blood poured down my face. I could barely see through the bloody haze and a sense of rage at letting myself open like that came over me. There was no-one save this man to take my anger out on. I jumped high into the air and brought my blade down on his head. My opponent was still reeling with the recoil of his last strike and my blood had sprayed into his face. I don’t think he could see. My strike went straight into his head and re-emerged at his chin. I heard a loud crack and the poor man collapsed onto the floor. Luckily a medical mage was in the crowd and rushed forward immediately. She weaved a time stopping spell over him, and then a transportation spell. He was transported directly to the small medical house. I felt sick. I might have killed this hopeful young man and all for my gain. Xandile walked over and patted me on the back

"Well done lad. You are accepted into the ranks of our army.”

I needed to know. "Will he survive?”

"Who? Oh the opponent. Yes he’ll be just fine. Our medics are the best.” I felt a lot better after that. A small, old lady came over and did some simple spells over my wound. She said it would heal quick but would leave a fairly big scar. I wasn’t bothered though, if anything, I was proud to have gained my first battle scar.

I went over to see my previous opponent a few days later. I hadn’t been allowed in before as he was recovering from his injuries. He looked awful. Half his head was dominated by bandages and his face was ashen. He tried to rise as I entered but I placed a hand on his chest to stop him from injuring himself. He struggled against me but he was pitifully weak. He had just survived a mortal wound and looked in no shape to do anything.

"But I must rise against the victor. I must show my gratitude for your lesson you taught me that fateful night.” I couldn’t believe this. I had nearly killed him and he was thanking me! This was absurd.

"I am no victor. I acted in rage and hurt you badly. I offer my friendship and to train you back up to health. Will you accept this small gift?” I extended my hand to show I was serious. He looked a little doubtful. I don’t think he believed me. Finally he agreed and grasped my hand. This was the start of gruelling training and a great friendship.

He took a while to get back to the fitness he was unto before the fight. He started off with no will to ever fight again or even to train. Some of Xandile’s sternness had rubbed off on me and I got a nearby mage to conjure up the dragon that had haunted me before. He soon started training after that. He already knew how to use a sword so I didn’t need to teach him that. I gave him exercises to do every morning to raise his strength back up. I taught him all the little tricks I had learnt, like how to disarm your opponent whilst unarmed. He learned quickly and soon he was fighting at a higher level than he was before his injury. I soon had no need for the dragon. He was promising as a warrior. I got yet another mage to cast a whole battle. He fought his way through it with only small injuries. These only got as bad as a sprained ankle.

I got to know him as a friend also. His name was Poltin and he had joined the ranks in the same way as I had. He was recruited by another general on the prowl for talent. I really liked this young man. He almost always wore a grin on his face and was there when you needed him. He was a true friend. He came from a small settlement the other side of the valley. I had never heard of it. Then again I hadn’t even left my own town before. I was feeling a little home sick but the training had put my mind off of it. Now I was sitting back and watching another train, it washed over me. His training finally came to an end after a year. We were both having a laugh over a few pints in the tavern when the news came. Many years had passed and no word had came. I was now 20 and getting really annoyed.