~1st POV
I noticed his presence the moment he took a step into the garden, my sanctuary. I waited until he came closer, using the same lines he loves to use. I had memorized the sound of his steps, the way he walked, and his smell.
"Eh, your abomination, Lord Barak, is calling you. Follow me immediately."
Upon hearing him talk to me as if I was not worth his time, I finally opened my eyes. However, in my vision, I didn't see a proper silhouette of a person but instead tangled lines. I shook my head; my eyes had been strange since I was young. Sometimes, they would show me odd things like this. I haven't had a proper explanation for this phenomenon, which is why I don't like opening them so often unlike necessary—they're too burdensome and easily tire me out. Fortunately, this phenomenon doesn't happen all the time; it sometimes occurs.
I stood up, dusting myself off as I followed the young man, whose features finally registered in my eyes because my vision returned to normal. Knowing the purpose of the call, I couldn't help but sigh—another beating in the name of checking my progress, fully aware that I don't have a core and that I'm not blessed. I'm as ordinary as the word ordinary mean, except for my slightly robust physique and weird eyes. Well, let's say I'm unique. I haven't explored my uniqueness, so I'm currently nothing.
My half-brother just wanted to bully me, and nobody would object, as nobody cares about a cursed child. Just because I'm different and can't do what they can, I'm labeled a cursed being, discarded by all. Not that I care about how they view me, nor do I resent them. Yes, there was a time I resented them and the world, but that was years ago. I've matured; I've evolved from my past self. Now, I live for myself, for the mother who gave birth to me, named me, and loved me until her death. I have nothing to prove to anybody, only to myself. I must absolutely understand what makes me different from others, why I have these unique traits. I must understand myself, and if by doing so I achieve things people didn't expect me to, and they think, "Ah, I did all of those things so to prove them wrong," so be it. Everyone has their opinion; whatever your reasons are, people will twist things as they want, so there's no need to clarify.
As I was lost in my thoughts, we arrived at the training ground, and, as usual, the atmosphere in the training stopped the moment I arrived because they were about to watch a great show.
The star of the play was in meditation, probably doing a breathing exercise. At least he was the diligent type. If you asked me what kind of feelings I had for my half-brother before me, it would be none—absolutely none. The same goes for any member of this family; they consider me nothing but an eyesore, so why waste time on unproductive things? I truly hate that.
Standing before Barak, who sensed my presence but was still acting as if he hadn't, I said, "I'm here at your call."
A brief sentence with no familiarity.
Finally, Barak's eyes snapped open. His pure golden eyes glared at me as he stood up.
"I called you to see your progress. Maybe, by some miracle, you've awakened," he added with a touch of mockery at the end of his sentence, prompting the other kids to laugh. Naturally, I showed no response, which made his smiling face reveal signs of cracking.
Someone threw a wooden sword at me with enough force to hurt my hands, but my eyes perceived the flying sword slowly—another weird effect of my vision. I rotated my hands to kill the sword's momentum before firmly holding it with both hands as I stood opposite Barak.
"Tch!"
Having failed with his petty trick, the man clicked his tongue before handing Barak another wooden sword as respectfully as he could.
Barak was the first to attack as we faced each other. He launched himself forward with incredible speed, lightning crackling around his feet to boost his speed. He arrived before me in an instant. Even though my eyes perceived him slowly, my body could not keep up; as my brain hadn't given the signal to move, so I hastily defended myself with ma clumsy defensive stance. But Barak, whose reaction speed had temporarily increased due to the lightning, smirked as he changed the direction of the sword. He aimed at my unguarded stomach and struck.
Puk!
The blow was intense;
''!"
I grimaced in pain as I was sent flying, rolling a couple of times on the ground. The pain was so intense that I felt like retching. Fortunately, I hadn't eaten anything before coming here; if I had, I was sure I would have emptied my stomach right there.
Barak did not give me any respite. In a flash, he reappeared before me and launched dozens of attacks—horizontal, diagonal slashes.
His attacks were relentless, I tried to defend to the best I could and after a moment, I couldn't keep up. I became bruised, blood dripping from my forehead into my eyes, giving them a more sinister vibe. I could see his attacks in slow motion, yet my body refused to respond properly which was frustrating. I vowed to train more while gritting my teeth as the pain intensified. I waited for the perfect moment before throwing sand I had previously gathered at Barak, aiming for his eyes. I knew it wouldn't achieve much, but this act could annoy him, potentially giving me time for my next plan.
Indeed, upon seeing the sand flying at his face, Barak's eyes narrowed dangerously sending chill down my spine.
"You piece of shit!"
Zzt! Zzt!
Lightning crackled around his face, blocking the attack. He was enraged, and lightning crackled around his weapon as it flew toward me at deadly speed.
My eyes widened in surprise at this phenomenon. To think he had reached this state already.
Then it happened—things slowed down more than usual. I saw those weird lines again, but this time on the incoming sword clad in lightning. Among those lines, one shone more brightly. It seemed to be the center of the other lines.
For some strange reason I couldn't explain, I felt the desire to shatter it. Unconsciously, my sword moved; I pushed it forward, the tip touching that shining line.
Snap!
I lost consciousness right after that, feeling something blunt collide with my stomach for the second time.