Harwin asked for permission to speak, but after a quick glance, Graftel responded:

  "I shall listen to you later."

  He immediately understood what his master meant and sat back down.

  "Anyone else, who would like to add something?" Graftel questioned the room.

  "I shall see to that no harm comes to the village in your absence, but who will accompany you in the great journey if you were to take it?” Farelen inquired.

  “As I stated earlier, I shall think about it. Although, It is high-time for young Landel to take the journey once and for all as well, as I see something in that child that resembles my youth. If it is the will of nature, he might be my successor all together. Anyone of you, who may doubt my judgement, may spar with him and find out for themselves.” Graftel spoke with a cheerful attitude.

  “That boy, Landel, certainly is one of a kind — a prodigy. I whole-heartedly trust your judgement.”

  Farelen agreed with sword-saint, even though no validation was demanded, but he was simply an open-minded fellow who spoke what was on his mind without following any courtesies.

  The elders certainly wore a frown, but unlike their usual sarcastic behaviour towards Graftel, they were rather quiet. The chief was also silent, but he was worried for the safety of his grandson as well.

  “What about you old-man?” Graftel said while looking towards the wary chieftain.

  “It is not like I have a choice, if you of all people see something in him, it is a source of honour and pride not of anquish. My grandfatherly emotions can not be brought in a matter which concern the very future of our race.” The chief replied with a stern expression.

  "Then with this, I end the council meeting."

  Graftel was the first one to get up, he took Uyteral and also signalled for Harwin to follow them. All the others remained seated for the time being as they were not instucted to leave or to follow their commander.

  Soon they had made their way to the training ground, and Landel came into view.

  “That is the grandson of the village-chief, and as announced earlier, he is supposed to be my successor. You might have questions regarding my decision, it might even be source of animosity, but you may test the lad yourself. He is not only exceptional but a prodigy — a once in lifetime talent.”

  Graftel showered Landel with compliments which he never did infront of him, but it was clear that both of them held great respect and admiration for eachother.

  “I do not doubt your judgement, but I must say that I am surprised. So if you allow, I want my son to spar with this young man. I can tell you that I have trained him since childhood, he is my pride. Not only that, but he has been in many battles. I have also shared with him whatever wisdom I have had acquired in my life.” Uyteral argued.

  Of course a father favours his son. This son in question was one of the few party members who came in the village in the morrow. He was not present in the council on the account of being young.

  “GRANTAL! COME HERE SON!” Uyteral called upon his son, who was standing nearby.

  A young man, with the same age and build as Landel, rushed towards them. He stood like a proper soldier — awaiting orders.

  “This is my son, Grantal. Son, this is the saviour and the sword-saint, Graftel.”

  Upon hearing this, Grantal knelt in front of the sword-saint immediately.

  “Stand up, no need for such courtesies. I see that your father has quite the strong impression of you, so I would like you to spar with a student of mine. Show us the best you have got! Now, go to the training-ground at once.”

  “I will not disappoint the sword-saint. You honor me beyond words.” He bowed a little and then complied with the new instructions, immediately.

  “LANDEL! SPAR WITH THIS YOUNGLING! HE MIGHT BE A CHALLENGE TO YOU!” Graftel ordered Landel, who was still unaware, rather chose to ignore their presence.

  During all this, Harwin stood like a statue. He did not know what to do so he remained silent and awaited his orders.

  Landel, though wore a frown, did not reject the match as he wanted to challenge himself.

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  The two of them came face to face, both put their hands on the hilts of their sheathed sword. Unlike the usual sparring matches, they used actual swords, and awaited for the signal.

  “Both of you better not hold back! I want the best performance." Graftel instructed, "Now.....Begin!" He shouted.

  With this signal Grantal took out his sword only to discover that it had been cut in half already, and his opponent's sword against his throat.

  It was in a split second that the match was already over. Grantal could not understand what had happened. His legs began to tremble, and then he fell to the ground.

  “I got carried away.” Landel mumbled to himself.

  “It appears talent still beats hardwork! What do you think Uyteral?” Graftel wore a smug, proud expression.

  Uyteral was too stunned to speak. The skill that this young man possessed was beyond not only his son but also himself. For the first time in centuries he was not able to keep up with the speed of a person. It was only in the great elfin-human war that he had seen such skill, such technique — of course, from the sword saint himself.

  “Well that expression answers itself. Your son is strong, much better than the average youngling maybe, but he still needs to work on his speed, technique and senses. It might be beneificial for him to think for himself once. Train him like a soldier and he will be nothing more than that. It seems you tried to train him as you would a servant or a bodyguard.” Graftel remarked.

  “I am…..not sure what to say.” Utyeral finally broke the silence.

  “Not to worry, how about a match with this man over here?” Graftel pointed towards Harwin who was obviously dumbfounded by this sudden declaration.

  “Me.…you overestimate my limits master.” Harwin argued with a shaky voice.

  “No need to be so serious, lad. It is just a practice match, so both of you will learn something from it.”

  “Forgive me, but I do not think a human should try his fate against my son. I now know that Landel is quite talented, no, he is a prodigy as you had claimed, but still a human is no match for elves. I do believe the high praises you have sung for this human, as he can speak our language with perfect dialect, and how he has helped the village countless times, but brawn and brains certainly do-not go hand-in-hand in their race.”

  “You might be right, but it is more of a learning experience for the both of them. Landel also has to get serious whilst sparing with this man. He is quite shrewd, rather he has a strategic mind is what would be a better description for his techniques.” Graftel argued.

  “Very well. You have already proven me wrong once, so it would be quite shameful of me to assume that I know better.” Uyteral gave up on his protests.

  Seeing that there was no other way out of this situation, Harwin sighed and made his way to the training ground.

  Grantal had already gotten up and was trying his best to hide his annoyance and anger, but now he had to face a human. It felt like a humiliation to him, but what could he do. He had been taught to always obey the orders of his seniors and the man who ordered the sparring match was the senior most person of the entire race, so going against his words, for someone like Grantal, meant death by his own standards.

  Both were handed wooden-swords and on the command of Graftel the match begun.

  The first one to move was Grantal, he launched himself at his opponent — hoping to take him down in a single strike — but to his surprise, his attack was parried.

  Harwin was used to deflecting the strikes of Landel thus this proved not a difficult challenge. The storm of furious strikes continued who was now obviously ovepowering his opponent. When all seemed to be lost, a surprising move came from Harwin, he used a wind spell to create distance between his opponent and himself.

  “COWARD! YOU RESORT TO MAGIKA IN A SWORD-FIGHT.” Grantal shouted.

  “This is not a sword fight, son of Uytral, but a sparring match, so you can use any means necessary to win. You may even bite your oppoent if that is your style of fighting.” Graftel interjected which shut the complaint of Grantal.

  Grantal again leaped towards Harwin but this time his opponent's strategy was different then before.

  He chanted earth spells in succession, though these were only beginner ones but he was able to cast them very fast, creating a small barrage of rocks launched at his opponent at a high speed. This effect was further boosted with the help of wind magika. Harwin's understanding of magika had allowed him to combine the different types. This was not a outlandish feat but certainly deserved praise.

  Magika spells normally required great incantations but those were only necessary when one wanted to maximize the output of his casting. However, in a close-combat faster casting, though limited the potential of a spell, proved to be much more effective.

  Quite shocked, Grantal had to stop in his course of action and try to deflect the barrage. It was this delay that made all the difference—

  Harwin had already rushed towards his opponent to finally be on the offense. Busy deflecting the rocks, Grantal lost his focus and was directly hit in the abdominal by the wooden-sword of his opponent...

  This could have meant another loss for Grantal, but the man simply did not flinch. His eyes were crimson with fury and it was clear he had not taken any damage from the direct hit.

  In a fit of rage, Grantal used all his strength to break the sword of his opponent who was shocked by this sudden change of events. Normally by this attack almost all of Harwin's opponents were knocked down, but this man stood there without even so much as cry of pain, so this would have stoned anyone in his place. More importantly, Harwin's weapon was decimated by Grantal.

  Just before his opponent was about to deliver the final blow, the fight was abruptly stopped by Graftel.

  “Stop! That is enough, I can not allow our guest to be burned to death.” Graftel shouted.

  It was surprsing revelation for Grantal who was sure that this was his win. Upon closer observation, he noticed that the prosthetic arm of Harwin, which he was using for casting spells, had visible sparks forming up in-front of it.

  The spell Harwin was about to cast was an intermediate one called "Blazing Death" — this was a concentrated ball of fire that could be fired at a single point thus not resulting in a areal damage rather damaging only the target at which it was directed. It was packed with enough power to burn a person alive.

  This was certainly not a move to be used on allies, so it was quite out of character for Harwin.....