Prelude to a Dream by Rebekah Daniels

1699
AD; Deep inside the Scandinavian
Mountains

    “Whoa!”
    His long time instructor clucked his tongue
in disapproval. “If ye want any chance of survival, ye gonna have
te be quicker than that, Malachi.”
    Rolling his eyes at the overly dramatic
statement, Malachi fingered the new slice through the arm of his
tunic and shrugged. “Nothing a needle and thread can’t fix.” A sly
smile spread across his face. “Maybe I can get Amber or Mayville to
fix it for me.” He chuckled and winked at the older man. Bringing
up the two girls from their camp that were sweet on him would
definitely add to his instructor’s annoyance.
    Shaking his head in obvious frustration,
Gerard held up his sword once again. “En garde!”
    Smiling at his instructor’s seriousness,
Malachi stuck his arm out to the side and spun his falchion in
circles. “Come on, can’t we be done for the day?”
    “No! I said, En garde.”
    “The sun is descending, Gerard,” he pointed
out, as if the older man couldn’t tell.
    Lowering his sword a little, Gerard eyed him
suspiciously. “Ye got somewhere te be?”
    “No.” The answer came out too quickly, his
voice a little too high. Clearing his throat, he shrugged, and
tried again. “No, why do you ask?”
    Gerard was a smart and very observant man. A
tall and broad shouldered man, he was in his late forties and had
been Malachi’s trainer for almost a decade. Being assigned as his
trainer, he taught him hand to hand and various weapon combat,
especially on how to properly wield his falchion. After having
become so close through the years, he had also turned into the man
that Malachi went to for help with his studies, or issues regarding
his personal life.
    In a way, he was the closest thing to a
father that Malachi felt he would ever have. Plus, Gerard also knew
him better than anyone else alive. Malachi knew this, and in
knowing this, he also knew that he was about to be called out on
his lie.
    “Sword up, now!” Gerard raised his sword, and
waited. The moment Malachi had his raised, Gerard swung.
    The sound of the metal clashing against each
other brought Malachi back into the now ingrained rhythm. Malachi
would swing, only for it to be blocked, then Gerard would counter,
leaving Malachi to defend himself against the incoming strike.
    After a few continuing sets of going back and
forth, Gerard finally spoke up. “I heard something about the
village down the mountain… something about having a te-do
commencing the New Year.”
    Without breaking rhythm, Malachi leveled out
his voice. “Really? I hadn’t heard.”
    Without warning, Gerard’s sword swiftly moved
in the opposite direction of where it had been swinging. Barely
having enough time, Malachi pivoted and blocked the potentially
critical blow. His hand throbbed from the impact, a testament to
how hard the hit actually was.
    “What the hell was that?” Malachi lowered his
sword, and gaped at the older man.
    Pointing his sword at Malachi, Gerard leveled
an eye on him and sneered. “Don’t ye lie to me, boy! I was wipin’
snot from your nose as ye cried about your mama, and I still told
it te ye straight.” Before he could respond, Gerard continued.
“When ye would wake up screaming from your nightmares, it was me
that was there. Don’t be lettin’ your ego get in the way te make ye
lose the respect I taught ye te show people. Most of all, don’t
think te disrespect me by lyin’ again.” Malachi opened his mouth to
answer, but before he could, Gerard raised his sword into his
readying stance once more, and snapped, “Sword up!”
    Before complying, Malachi swallowed the lump
in his throat. Once again, when his falchion was raised, Gerard
swung.
    They quickly got into another rhythm, and
Gerard was the one to speak first again. “Ye know we don’t
associate with the mortals down there. Those people would never
understand what ye are.”
    Malachi pinched his lips together and
forcefully thrust his sword toward Gerard’s