Chương 56: Chapter 55

I bolted down the stairs, my leather boots slapping against the wooden steps.

"Slow down, sweetheart!" Mum yelled.

"You're going to fall and hurt yourself!" My only response was childish laughter as I literally, one hand on the bannister, vaulted down the last six steps and landed in a controlled roll. Just a day ago I had unlocked the Path of Acrobatics and while it wasn't in my list of active Paths, my actions saw a step in my Paths of Balance and Coordination.

"I'm fine, Mum!" I yelled back as I careened into the kitchen. Snatching up a piece of warm toast with butter and some jam slathered on it, I stuffed it into my mouth. Time was of the essence and food a distraction. A necessary distraction, but a distraction nonetheless. I turned to head back out the door I had just charged in through when my mother's words called me back.

"Wait for Etta, darling." I harrumphed but spun around, heading over to the boiled water from my mother's enchanted metal jug, working on preparing Gramps some tea. The old codger wasn't up yet but I figured he would arrive before Etta did so I might as well make myself useful. Plus, even if it wasn't currently progressing my Path of Brewing, since it was dormant, I would still get some credit for it when I eventually picked it back up. My prediction was, as per usual, correct.

Gramps arrived just a few minutes later, probably woken by my descent down the stairs. Today he was wearing a rich, black, woolen shirt and pants, matching boots with his wolf fur coat. Coupled with his beard, which didn't look like it was showing any more white hairs than usual, and his sharp blue eyes, he looked like how I would envision a lord would have looked. Mum was in a dark green, woolen dress that went down to her ankles, with sleeves that went down to her wrists.

Her own wolf fur coat was hung over a chair as the kitchen was plenty warm. She'd tied her dark brown hair up in a bun, and she smiled at me as she walked past to put a plate of steaming food in front of Gramps. I followed dutifully behind, presenting the morning tea.

"Early lesson today?" Gramps asked as he took a bite of his toast before washing it down with a sip of tea. I waited for his predictable contented sigh before I answered.

"Nope, Etta and I are going to go play with the new kids for an hour first." Gramps glanced at me.

"And how's that going? I thought you would want to work on your Paths?" I smirked a little at the old man.

"Oh, I am, Gramps. I promise." Gramps nodded his head towards the back door, and I ran over, sticking my head out to see if Etta was on her way. She wasn't, not yet anyway, so I sat down beneath the awning to wait. One of the unexpected benefits of new people joining our community was new kids. Four families had moved in across the road as part of the new mining operation, which the group of prospectors had titled Horndale Mining Co.

Each of the extended families had at least a couple of kids, and while the two oldest children, both just starting their teens, were put to work, the younger ones weren't. Which meant Etta and I finally had children our own age to play with. There were five such children among the Horndale Mining Co. families. The oldest was Brin, a nine year old girl with orange hair that put my dark copper locks to shame. Then her younger brother, seven year old Soren, who had blond hair and blue eyes.

He was much quieter than his boisterous, older sister. I'd never bothered to find out who their parents were, and maybe I never would. Besides Brin and Soren, there were Roan, Fenn, and Cora. Roan and Fenn were twin boys, six years old. They were not, however, identical. Roan was tall and solid for his age while Fenn was thin and of average height. They both had scruffy, black hair, dark brown eyes, and liked to fight, which suited me as it was easy to rile them up into having a good scrap.

The final member of the Pick Pack, my nickname for the mining runts, was Cora. Cora was the younger sister of Roan and Fenn, quiet, with matching black hair and brown eyes. Where her brothers were boisterous, Cora was thoughtful and insightful. At least, as far as a five year old could be. The young girl, of course, gravitated to Etta, who in turn gravitated to me, which was how I expected this morning's ruckus to turn out. Just like the day prior, and the day before that.

I didn't have to wait too long as Etta came running across the distance between our two houses. Grandma Lucille trundled along behind her. In the distance, I could see the silhouette of either Kaylee or George watching from the doorway of their house, carefully tucked into the line of trees. Etta stumbled the last few steps coming to a halt in front of me. In her arms she held a stack of wooden practice swords.

"Dad said we should stop using sticks and give them the real thing so we get more out of it," she said in a rush. I grabbed half of the wooden swords off her and started walking around the outpost.

"I'm going across the road, Mum!" I yelled back.

"That's fine, Sweetheart. Just wait for Lucille before you head across!" she called back. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Etta and I spent a minute waiting beside the outpost, the sound of hammers ringing in the air. The Kellins were adding an additional warehouse of their own as more members of the community meant more produce being created to be sold to the trade caravans.

It was expected that some trade caravans may even now only be making their way to our little community, which was as of yet to be named, to trade with the Kellins' trading post before making their way back. With my paltry understanding of trade, I figured that this development would be a contributing factor to one noble house or another trying to claim our community as part of their lands. That thought was discarded as Grandma Lucille finally caught up to us.

Today the old woman was in a cream, homespun, woolen dress, with some furred monstrosity on her head that went down to wrap around her neck like a scarf. Similar fur poked out around her wrists, and I was reminded that the old weaver had less love of the cold than I did. Etta was dressed in similar wool. Though, for my best friend and only rival, her parents had gone with pants and a shirt rather than a dress.

I figured her dad knew what we were about to get up to, especially since he gave us some simple, wooden, practice swords. We trudged across the road, my eyes drifting up to the bright, clear sky more than once. One day I would not be paranoid, but that day was not today. After safely crossing the road, with no sign of any traffic yet, we walked into the cul-de-sac of houses for the newly arrived families.

Brin was sitting on the fence of one of the gardens waiting for us while Soren was already trying to wrestle with Roan and Fenn. Cora was nearby, helping her mother plant a few seeds for what I assumed were vegetables or herbs. Brin hopped down off the fence, which was enough for her brother and the twins to stop what they were doing. The older girl picked up a stick that had been sitting down by her feet and pointed it at me.

"Ready for another round, fancy kid?" demanded the twerp, as though she wasn't almost twice my age.

"Yeah," I agreed with a grin.

"But this time we brought something better than sticks." I dumped three of the four swords I was carrying on the ground in a clatter of wood while Etta did the same next to me. The three boys rushed over to have a look, words of excitement exchanged between them as they each picked up a sword and tested it. Brin was a little slower, but finally tossed her stick aside to pick up one of the wooden blades.

"They're not as heavy as I thought they would be," she said with a sneer.

"Real ones are heavier, but these are just for practice and building strength," I explained.

"Like you'd know what a real one feels like," Brin countered, which I took as a sign that she was still angry about being beaten yesterday. Only one sword remained on the ground, as Cora looked across at it before going back to gardening with her mother. I didn't blame her, since she was the youngest and would almost certainly have been put on a team with Etta and I. While I, and to an extent Etta, tried to be a little careful when swinging around slabs of wood, the same could not be said of the twins.

At Brin's words I just shrugged, "We playing or what?"

"Yeah," Brin agreed, looking around and realising Cora wasn't going to join in.

"Teams are uneven though. You want Roan or Fenn?" The twins were immediately up in arms at the suggestion of separating them but I knew Brin didn't want to give Etta and I Soren since he was the second oldest and meant that Brin was almost certainly going to lose. I knew she was going to lose anyway though, and made that clear.

"You can have Roan and Fenn. Soren too. The four of you against the two of us."

"Okay," Brin agreed slowly.

"Same rules as yesterday?"

"Yep," Etta replied.

"A touch between the stomach and the chest means you're out till the end of the round. No swinging for the head or you have to sit out. Once we're warmed up, we can do defend the Grandma!" That had been my idea. They were all kids and needed an objective, even if it was something as simple as 'gently touch Grandma Lucille to win' and one team had to defend her while the other had to try and touch her without getting 'cut down.' They were violent games, but it was a violent world we lived in.

The fenced path between the houses was only about two metres wide, which was tight for four kids with practice swords but just barely enough room for Etta and I to go side by side. But our style of swordplay, as taught by her Father, didn't like enclosed spaces. Wolf's Paw was heavy on footwork and circling your opponents so I stood slightly in front of Etta. When the four kids charged, yelling their childish battlecries, I was ready.

I slapped Roan's sword aside, redirecting him towards Etta and partway into his twin. Roan and Fenn went down together, butting heads in the progress. Now that Etta only had Soren to deal with I turned my attention towards the largest threat in the form of the biggest kid — Brin. Stepping to the side I clashed blades with Brin. She was stronger than me, and I was forced to give ground, though her strength wasn't so much that I couldn't fight back.

I guessed she had lower Stats than me, but she was also naturally more developed which made up for her shortcomings. While she might have had strength on me, she fell far short in coordination and in experience. Her wooden sword whistled towards me, coming in higher than it should have if she didn't want to hit me in the neck. Such were the risks of a nine year old fighting a five year old. I ducked beneath the wooden blade, stepped in close and shoved her in the gut.

Already off balance from her swing she went down in a pile of dust. Rather than finish her off I turned and went to Etta's aid. She was warding off Soren and Roan while Fenn tried to get around behind her. With their backs to me, it was easy to slap both Soren and then Roan in the ribs with the wooden sword. Hard enough to leave a small bruise, but not so hard that they'd actually be hurt. I turned, leaving Fenn to Etta and once more faced off against a dusty and now livid Brin.

She charged forward with big swings, throwing her entire weight behind every slash. I gave ground, circling when I could and parrying when I couldn't, waiting for my moment. I didn't have to wait long. A powerful overhand strike that completely violated our rules about not swinging for the head meant that all I had to do was step to the side and stab forward.

The blunted tip of my wooden sword took the older girl in the ribs and she made an 'oof' sound as air rushed from her lungs and she went down with her arms flailing. I turned to see that Etta had dealt with Fenn, the thinner of the twins rubbing at a welt on his upper arm. Brin stopped coughing and pulled herself to her feet.

"Again?" I asked.

"Again," she agreed, fire in her eyes.