He wanted to practise with his sword, the usual place, as he did in past. This used to be his routine around the time when he started training. At first, he was told by his grandma, that he should just swing his sword. It was all he did for months. He didn't understand at first but as he continued, he learnt that one needs to become one, that was to merge with the sword as if it were a part of his body. To move it as his mind thinks. It was the crucial part when one wants to become a pinnacle swordsman.
He has got a basic understanding of swords, with the help of his grandma. It was not that was an easy process, but years of dedication made him achieve the understanding and the skill which he was practising required deep perception.
Aragon was now standing there. He brought a sword which was in his house. It was not long, about a metre long with a flat edge on top and sharp on one side. Its rectangle handle had a thread wound on it. It had a black shade on the flat surface, behind the sharp side.
It was a present from his grandma, he hadn't used it till now.
Prior training had been done with a different sword as he was just a beginner. She didn't allow him to a real sword.
He wanted to advance in the level of slaughter technique. So he brought the real sword and wanted to use that as it push further.
He unsheathed the sword, holding it with both hands. He moved the sword in a flow, it was smooth and transited when moving.
The movement of his sword was slow and it looked like he was barely moving. He stabilized his breathing and his eyes closed, like in a trance. Trying to focus with all his senses, he swung his sword, making no sound, slicing the empty air.
He continued doing the same for hours until the sun came to close to the surface on the west. The sun went down, the light dimmed with orange-red radiance.
Satisfied with himself, Aragon sheathed the sword, then he put the sword in his ring. It was the ring his grandma gave him. It was a storage ring that could be used to store things. He came down the mountains. He stayed without eating for a day, he could go on with no food for days when he was immersed in practising sword. He did like so in the past also, practising for hours continuously without food.
A few minutes later,
He reached his aunt's home. He walked along the yard fence, he could see two men standing in front of the door. He knew one of the men, he was Gaerr, another one, he didn't know.
All men and women with children all relaxed with the enemy gone. They were men still drinking at the tavern. They kept on drinking from yesterday. It was a tough battle for the men, to defeat an enemy with more numbers than him. Although some of them were killed, in the end, they won.
Aragon stood in front of the two men. Gaerr was glaring at the boy. The last time he was the one who interrupted them.
Now, the reason they were standing in the yard was that Katheryn told them, not to enter the house. She was the most mature beauty in the tribe. She was an easygoing woman, and talks and flirts with men as she wished. It was only a couple of times she and Gaerr were hooked on but he was treating it like they were a couple and came on asking her, despite declining him. And this time, he brought another with him to appease Katheryn. Maybe it would make her pleased with two men, that's what he thought. Most of the men in the tribe were afraid of her to make an advance on her. But Gaerr didn't, so he stood there looking at her with a lust-filled gaze.