So this was better – better to ignore those thoughts as much as possible, because thinking about them would only make it worse for him. Besides, they weren't true anyway.
They couldn't be real.
He would never love anyone but her, no matter how many times they may try to break his heart. There would always be someone else, someday, he would realize that. And he would move on.
For now, though, he should concentrate on his training.
When he was done with breakfast, he left his house and headed straight to the arena. He arrived early to practice with the other students, although it didn't bother him. He had already practiced for hours yesterday afternoon, and he knew that he was ready for more.
The others were already there when he arrived, stretching and practicing their moves. He joined them without speaking a word, trying to put his fears aside for now. He didn't want to scare the others, so he decided to keep silent and just watch, making sure nothing happened.
After a while, a shadow fell upon his team, causing them to raise their heads. They found themselves facing two men dressed in heavy armor, wielding heavy wooden shields, each carrying three swords.
"Alright kids, today we will begin our training. Today, we will fight against my father's friends. These are your opponents. Fight smart and win. Don't let your emotions cloud your judgement, especially since you will need to protect yourselves if necessary. Remember that, if it comes down to it, you can't hesitate to save yourself. Do you understand me?" the instructor barked at them, his voice echoing through the empty space. When he received their affirmation, he nodded curtly. "Very well. Let us begin. Begin!"
The instructor raised his shield, blocking a blow from one of the soldiers, sending him stumbling backwards several steps. He glanced warily at another soldier, who also charged forward and swung at him. The man was caught off guard, but managed to parry the strike and turn it into a counterattack by striking the soldier on the shoulder. The man stumbled backwards, clutching his wounded shoulder with both hands. Before he could attack again, his opponent took advantage of the distraction and struck the man on the other shoulder, knocking him backwards.
"That's enough. Take a break. Your opponent has recovered sufficiently." The instructor glared coldly at the injured soldier as he retreated, holding his bleeding shoulder with his other hand.
"I see that you are ready for battle. Get back on the battlefield immediately!" With that the teacher turned around, heading over to where their swordsmen were already waiting, weapons in hand. The man with the bleeding shoulder walked back towards his own group of fighters, taking his place at the front of the group. A few moments later the man with the bleeding shoulder ran off, leaving only his opponent in his stead.
"Good job," the leader of the sparring team, a tall man with dark hair, clapped his opponent on the back. "Let's go."
As the sparring started, the man called Zane began to observe his opponent carefully. He was an older man, and judging by the way his sword moved, Zane could tell that he wasn't very skilled. Although he hadn't fought many people before, he knew that the man had been taught well and had seen quite a few battles. So he couldn't afford to underestimate him.
Still, he wasn't worried. After all, even if his opponent had learned some fighting skills, he was still inexperienced compared to Zane.
As he looked at his opponent, he could already tell that he would be easy pickings. He would likely end up killing his opponent, which was exactly what he wanted.
"Don't forget that I'm watching you," the man stated.
Zane rolled his eyes. Of course the man wouldn't believe that Zane had been planning to defeat him. He was too confident in his abilities.
As if reading Zane's mind, the man grinned maliciously. "I don't think you're going to do anything tonight. Unless you plan on showing mercy to me?"
Zane frowned. He didn't expect any mercy from the man, but he figured that he would give him the option of surrendering. It seemed that the man had misunderstood. He had thought that Zane wanted him dead. He wanted to kill him.
"You want to die? Well then come get me!"
His opponent lunged at him, swinging his sword with full force. Zane blocked it with his sword, sending the tip flying out of the mans grasp. The man jumped to the side as soon as he heard the sound of metal hitting the ground. He rushed forward, lunging toward Zane once more. He swung his sword at him, forcing him to jump back to avoid being hit. He kicked the mans foot out from beneath him, sending him crashing onto the hard concrete ground.
"That was a good start, but next time you won'
t miss."
The man growled at him before scrambling to stand up and rushing at him again. Once again, Zane dodged the first swing, but once he landed the second blow, his legs buckled underneath him and he found himself lying flat on his back.
"Are you done?" the instructor asked as he stepped over his fallen student, reaching over to grab his sword before he handed it back to its owner. When the man accepted the weapon, he turned and glared at his opponent. "Get up. And if you have the audacity to try something like that again, I will send you to the infirmary."
The man grumbled under his breath, but nevertheless got up. As soon as the man was standing upright again, the instructor turned towards his team and commanded them to continue.
Zane slowly rose to his feet, rubbing his sore muscles. While he had enjoyed his match earlier today, he felt incredibly tired after it ended. The adrenaline that he had felt when he was fighting the man had faded away, leaving him feeling drained and exhausted. Not wanting to show any weakness, he pushed the feeling aside and continued to practice with his team.
Despite the exhaustion that was slowly creeping up on him, he made every attempt to focus on his training. He needed to keep his mind focused on training. Otherwise, he would surely lose control of his strength and hurt someone else. And besides, he didn't want anyone else to have to deal with the aftermath of his anger.
He was getting weaker by the day, and he hated it. His power seemed to drain away faster every time that he tried to use it, until eventually there would be nothing left. He was supposed to be able to control it, control his powers. But apparently, he wasn't very powerful. Perhaps if he would have met someone with more strength than he did, perhaps he would have been able to control himself better. Maybe he wouldn't be having these problems now.
The instructor had told them that they were to practise sparing against each other as they would soon begin fighting against their father's enemies. Zane could remember clearly the moment when he had realized that they were going to be fighting his father. He had already been weak from fatigue earlier, but after hearing the instructor's words, he had felt suddenly angry and scared. Because now, he would face his father once again, he would finally have to face the consequences for his crimes. He wasn't ready for the confrontation. He didn't want to meet him again and face his wrath. He didn't want to have to explain himself to him. Didn'