My Way
As I gazed upon the heavens, my soul was captivated by the celestial script adorning the azure expanse. At that moment, a profound query emerged within my mind: what if the human heart were as transparent as yonder firmament, untainted by malice or animosity? What would become of our world?
My reverie was shattered by Reda's stern voice, piercing through the tranquil veil of my contemplation. "Focus not on matters beyond swords and feet in battle, lest you lose your head," he cautioned.
With unwavering resolve, I swiftly raised my blade, deflecting his ferocious downward assault. Anticipating his next move, I preemptively retreated, evading the impending blow aimed at my midsection.
Seizing the opportunity presented by my nimble physique, I launched myself into the air, soaring above the fray. As I ascended, the world around me seemed to decelerate, each movement becoming agonizingly slow.
This fleeting phenomenon was a manifestation of a unique ability bestowed upon me by my lineage. Whether all rabbit monsters possessed this gift, or if it was solely mine to wield, remained a mystery.
Regardless of its origin, I embraced this newfound power, utilizing it to gain an edge over my adversary. As time dilated, I meticulously analyzed his movements, formulating a counterattack that would exploit any discernible flaw in his technique.
From my elevated vantage point, I observed my opponent's movements, his sluggishness a stark contrast to the frenetic pace of combat that had transpired mere moments ago. Yet, within this languid display, I discerned a critical flaw in his stance.
With unwavering resolve, I drew my twin blades, their razor-sharp edges gleaming ominously in the waning light. As I propelled myself toward my adversary, my body moved with an agility that belied the gravity of the situation.
The ethereal force that had previously slowed the passage of time relinquished its hold, and the world around me resumed its normal cadence. Reza, sensing my swift approach, cast a fleeting glance in my direction. In his eyes, I detected a flicker of hesitation, a tacit acknowledgment of the impending onslaught.
Despite the confines of our training regimen, a surge of exhilaration coursed through my veins, akin to the intoxicating thrill experienced by an author immersed in the throes of creation.
Reza inhaled deeply, his lips forming the syllables of a potent incantation. "Explosion," he uttered, his voice imbued with raw power.
In an instant, a palpable aura materialized from the surrounding air, coalescing into a concentrated wave of energy that hurtled towards me with unrelenting force. The impact sent me hurtling through the air, my body buffeted by the sheer magnitude of the assault.
The impact of my fall was jarring, sending a searing pain through my body. As I lay sprawled on the ground, a trickle of blood welled up from the corner of my mouth.
Fatima rushed to my side, her eyes blazing with fury. "Why are you so cruel?" she demanded, her voice laced with venom as she glared at Reda.
Reda met her gaze unflinchingly. "If I had not done that," he replied calmly, "I would now be the one bleeding from his chest."
He turned his attention to me, his eyes gleaming with a hint of intrigue. "I don't know how you developed like this in only two weeks of training," he mused. "The art of swordsmanship flows through your veins like blood."
His words were both a compliment and a warning. I knew that he had seen my potential and that he would not hesitate to push me to my limits.
As Fatima's healing magic coursed through my veins, I felt the wounds inflicted by Reda's attack gradually mend. From behind me, Morgan's voice echoed through the air, carrying with it a venomous sting.
"My father sent me to tell you that we will go to the raid tomorrow together," he declared, his tone laced with disdain. A moment of silence followed, broken only by the sound of his spittle hitting the ground. "But a weak person like you loses at the hands of a human," he sneered. "Will he be able to come with us?"
I ignored his taunts, choosing instead to focus on the reassuring presence of Fatima by my side. With her support, I rose to my feet and slowly made my way towards the building.
Morgan's voice trailed after us, his words dripping with malice. "There will be children from all the clans of the valley," he warned. "If you are lowered from the position of the rabbit clan, I will not have mercy on you."
His parting shot hung heavy in the air as we entered the building. I knew that he would be watching me closely, eager to see me fail. But I was determined to prove him wrong. I would not be the one to bring shame upon my clan.
As we entered the hut, Reda greeted me with a knowing smile. "It is good that you did not answer him," he said sagely. "Not everyone deserves to be talked down to or quarreled with."
His words echoed in my mind as I recalled Morgan's taunts. I knew that he was trying to provoke me, to get me to react in a way that would make me appear weak. But Reda was right. There was no need to stoop to his level.
"Your sword only comes out when you defend your life or the life of those you love," Reda continued. "Not to prove that you are strong. Strong people don't need that boy. Weak people are those who like to brag."
His words struck a chord within me. I had always been taught that strength was about being able to overpower others, to prove that you were superior. But Reda was teaching me a different kind of strength. A strength that came from within, a strength that was not based on aggression or intimidation.
Fred, who had been watching our exchange with a weary expression, interjected. "But retreating at every crossroads will make you appear weak," he countered. "You should not have mercy on anyone until they know your strength and are afraid to approach you or those you love."
"Compassion and humility are a weakness that people these days call morality," he added with a sneer.
I looked from Fred to Reda, unsure of who to believe. Reda's words resonated with me on a deeper level, but Fred's words were also true. In a world where violence was often the only way to resolve conflict, it was dangerous to appear weak.
Fatima, sensing my confusion, placed a comforting hand on my head. "This is Rida's path," she said gently, "and that is Fred's path. But your path will be determined by you. So sleep now to prepare for tomorrow, as your body needs rest."
With that, I closed my eyes, my mind still wrestling with the conflicting lessons I had been taught. As I drifted off to sleep, I knew that I would have to find my own way in this world,