#frandships

ily too frand!!!!!!!!!!! best frand in the world. The frand I need to meet! 

When the favored son of the settlement set foot on the sands of the fighting pit on training day, it was not uncommon for the settlement to come a bit more alive with the buzz of a good show.  The settlement loved Edward, and he loved them in return.  Often, he had thought of many women here growing up as second, third, fourth mothers and looked up to many of the warriors who had swung blades with him and showed him proper techniques as the father he never had.  This place was his heart beat.  He could feel it’s life force pulsing in it’s veins and when the settlement felt sorrow over a loss, so did he.   With his family inside these walls, he would gladly pick this place to make a final stand against the darkness if the world started to go black. 

  This was Mary Ann’s first full day back in the settlement in over a month.  She had been to Applenook, Lion’s Arch, and Divinity’s Reach to seek treatment for this mystery illness that plagued her only to find there was little that could be done on their end.  That did not mean he had given up, but as he passed through the combatants squaring off against one another, it warmed his heart to see her one of her favored dresses with Madelyn in her arms, surrounded by friends that were pleased to see her up and about.  The return had breathed new life into her as he figured it would, but Edward knew that effect would not last.  Time was still against him in that regard, but it was a great bolster to his morale to have this little bit.

  Right in time for his glorious return, Edward’s armor he had worn to the Winter’s Day Ball had been painted and stained to the proper colors, and this new gloss gleamed beautifully against the mid morning sun.  Despite it’s darker colors and lacking that “white knight quality” he despised, he still very much looked the part of the Settlement’s Paragon, even in the deepest of blacks.  As he passed a pair of fighters, he ceased them in their bout with his raised hand.  He turned to one recruit in particular and locked eyes to make sure he held his attention.  “The power of your stroke is not truly in only your arms.  It is the rotation of your hips and momentum of your legs that add to the power.  The next time you are at a dummy, move your body as if your arms had no strength but use the power of your legs and hips to guide you.  Feel the difference.  You will fatigue slower.  Wars of attrition are the only way to defeat great foes, and you must never tire first.”

  The recruit beamed up at Edward as if he were Logan Thackery.  These boys were no more than fifteen or sixteen, nearly a decade behind the Titan that moved between them.  They were too young to be Seraph and too young to be actively facing centaurs, but on days when Edward stopped by, their traditional instructors checked their egos and stepped back to let the man with a legend like a norn offer hands on advice.  Even if they offered the exact same, the morale boost from the Butcher’s presence did wonders.  He was no hero in truth, at least to hear him tell it, but his victory over centaurs, bandits, and more powerful foes alike still reached the young ones ears and filled their minds with thoughts of following in step. 

  “Centaurs are creatures that use their momentum and speed over ground to dictate combat.”  Edward crouched down in his plate just barley to load his legs like springs just incase.  He slapped down the top of his thigh plate.  “When squaring off against a centaur, you must never let them dictate range on the battlefield.  You move to them and keep the pressure on.  Where they are superior in a straight line, they are weakest when they have to turn, pivot, and swing around their flanks.  You must negate the height and momentum advantages to be victorious.”  On that, all the recruits stopped to watch.  “Always be ready to leap away and dodge, never be a standing still target or you will be covered in hoof prints.”  As if they were a unit of Seraph, the recruits let out a singular cry of “Yes sir” that brought a smirk to the Butcher’s lips.  With a nod of his head, he started on his path between them once more.  Those beautiful emerald orbs moving from recruit to recruit and studying their form, finding flaws, and offering minor corrections as he passed.

  It was mornings like this that showed him a glimpse of the future he wanted.  It did not involve the family he did not think would ever come, but the yard with fresh, young faces eager to prove their worth and defend their home lands.  One day when the need for gold was not so intense, he would assume this role happily and mold the generation that followed into a force that would be the envy of Kyrta.  “Do not watch your opponent’s hands, watch his eyes.  They will give him away before the flick of a wrist..”  For the first time since this with his mother had all begun, he felt right.  Nothing plagued his mind other than the here and now.  As proud as he was of these young men and women, he feared for them and the horrors they would one day face.  All he could hope that their training was sound and their resolve strong as his had always been.

  Glancing up to the wall, he saw the familiar face of the captain that had aided him and his family to the settlement.  “Finally awoke?”  He said to his friend whom he had left at the drinking table in the tavern the night prior.  Catarina Windborne gave a nod of her head, but did not look as if she had truly awoken yet.  “We will return soon.”  The friends exchanged a warm smile before his eyes trailed over the cherubic face of his daughter watching her father.  She clutched a doll fashioned after a knight in her hands that one could only assume was in his likeness.  He hated to leave her, but the need for coin was great and it was not earned by sitting on his backside, no matter how much he bragged on it’s shape and firmness.