At first i was spiteful, outright refusing his offer, no his order, to train me personally. He gave me no choice unfortunately, he massacred the party I had, trapping me in his castle for years.
I remember the first thing he did perfectly, test my sword skills, by fighting him. He mocked me with this, no matter what position I thought i had him in, he never moved how I wanted. I could never fully take advantage of his movements. His intelligence in battle far surpassed my own, his speed outshining mine and his strength… was inhumane. At that time I thought he was a god, that had surprisingly good banter. He would crack jokes while I fought him, as if it was a joke, looking back, I WAS a joke, my swordplay sloppy, my athleticism lacking, everything that could be wrong was.
He kept me trapped in the castle but not confined, I could roam free throughout the castle, which seemed like an oversight, at the time, no matter how I tried to escape, he stopped me, personally, always lecturing me about how slow I was.
Overtime I grew fond of him, joining in on the jokes, laughing with him, and learning from him. He started to take on a father figure, something I’ve never had before, I felt, wanted, loved, he seemed to appreciate me more than my hometown did. But there was the prophecy in the back of my head, I was destined to kill him, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get rid of the one person who truly appreciated me.
Yesterday, I had my final sparring session with him, at this point I refuse to spar with a sharp weapon, out of fear of losing my mentor. Once we begun, he sprung onto the offensive as usual, berating me with staff, forcing me to go on the defensive. I could only do so for so long, I would my footing and fall flat on my ass, losing once again. As he swung his staff downwards, I sidestepped, and swung down right at his wrist, in order to prevent injury he would have to release his weapon. Which he did, what was unexpected was that he could kick me in my chest at point blank range. While falling I was determined to at least bring him to the ground with me, so with a mighty swing, I did. I hit him. For the first time. And also the last. I hit him square in the temple, with enough force to kill him due to blunt force trauma. He fell to the floor.
Ecstatic to finally hit him, I laughed, screamed anything between. Before I realised what I did. He wasn’t breathing, I killed him. And so I completed the prophecy.
Methhead1010 t1_irqh8wi wrote
Reply to [WP] "Really?" The Dark Lord asked in disbelief, "This is the best the Chosen One can do? Screw it. If we're doing this, we're going to do this properly. I'll train you." 10 years later, your training is complete, but your time spent with the Dark Lord has given you some conflicting feelings. by IndependentWin6
At first i was spiteful, outright refusing his offer, no his order, to train me personally. He gave me no choice unfortunately, he massacred the party I had, trapping me in his castle for years.
I remember the first thing he did perfectly, test my sword skills, by fighting him. He mocked me with this, no matter what position I thought i had him in, he never moved how I wanted. I could never fully take advantage of his movements. His intelligence in battle far surpassed my own, his speed outshining mine and his strength… was inhumane. At that time I thought he was a god, that had surprisingly good banter. He would crack jokes while I fought him, as if it was a joke, looking back, I WAS a joke, my swordplay sloppy, my athleticism lacking, everything that could be wrong was.
He kept me trapped in the castle but not confined, I could roam free throughout the castle, which seemed like an oversight, at the time, no matter how I tried to escape, he stopped me, personally, always lecturing me about how slow I was.
Overtime I grew fond of him, joining in on the jokes, laughing with him, and learning from him. He started to take on a father figure, something I’ve never had before, I felt, wanted, loved, he seemed to appreciate me more than my hometown did. But there was the prophecy in the back of my head, I was destined to kill him, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get rid of the one person who truly appreciated me.
Yesterday, I had my final sparring session with him, at this point I refuse to spar with a sharp weapon, out of fear of losing my mentor. Once we begun, he sprung onto the offensive as usual, berating me with staff, forcing me to go on the defensive. I could only do so for so long, I would my footing and fall flat on my ass, losing once again. As he swung his staff downwards, I sidestepped, and swung down right at his wrist, in order to prevent injury he would have to release his weapon. Which he did, what was unexpected was that he could kick me in my chest at point blank range. While falling I was determined to at least bring him to the ground with me, so with a mighty swing, I did. I hit him. For the first time. And also the last. I hit him square in the temple, with enough force to kill him due to blunt force trauma. He fell to the floor.
Ecstatic to finally hit him, I laughed, screamed anything between. Before I realised what I did. He wasn’t breathing, I killed him. And so I completed the prophecy.