The Monastery - part one

Zach opened his eyes to the sound of the grand bell, immediately jumping to his feet and grabbing his sword whcih stood leaning against the wall next to his mattress. As he stood perfectly still with his sword in hand, waiting for the morning inspection, he looked around at all the other disciples of his squadron.

Forming two perfect lines along the walls where they had slept every night for the last ten years, the 20 disciples in the room all stood as if frozen in place, afraid to move before the squadron commander arrived. Zach smiled, a smile which was answered by several of the other disciples. They all knew that it was only a matter of days left before their graduation, before their hardship would finally be over and they would be free to leave as true Monasterians.

Just as the first gleams of sunlight shone through the tiny windows high up by the ceiling, spreading its light across the plain wooden walls of the room, the commander burst in through the dormitory doors. Zach did not much care for the short, balding man who was slowly inspecting the squadron's beds, postures and clothing, but he respected him nonetheless, as he respected all the masters of the Monastery. And although he had hated the man for his ungodly drills and exercises since he had been a child, he had to admit that they had given results over the years.

Zach quickly wiped the smiley off his face as the commander walked by and inspected him. He had never really understood the point of the daily morning inspections, it all just seemed like a waste of time to him. But he didn't complain or ask about it, not after hearing the stories of other pupils who had questioned the Monastery ways. He knew that if one was to question anything, he would promptly be thrown out through the gates with nothing but his clothes and be told to either leave if he didn't like it or return in three days, three days which had to be spent alone in the mountains.

After the inspection, they were all ordered to march out to the grand arena. Zach ignored the slight aching in his legs as he ran, an ache which he had gotten used to after all the years of hard training. As they entered the arena, the squadron quickly lined up in a perfect square at the spot which had been assigned to them. There they waited in silence in the large circle of sand which formed the arena, watching the other squadrons as they too marched through the gates and lined up at their designated spots.

Zach dug his bare feet into the sand, eager to find out what this day's morning training would be. After standing in the dawning light for what seemed like hours, some of the disciples in the various squadrons grew tired and impatient, and were unable to stay perfectly still. Zach's squadron however, which was one of the oldest, was used to the disciplinary waiting and merely enjoyed the warming sunlight.

Not until the sun stood high in the sky did the masters appear in the gates, their blue robes glimmering in the sun and their red capes flowing gracefully behind them. They stopped in the centre of the arena as they always did when they announced the daily schedule.

"Monasterian disciples!" the highest ranking sergeant addressed them. "Today, in honor of the squadrons that are about to leave us, we shall hold a tournament involving all disciples who are of 15 years of age or older."

A low mumble broke out among the younger ones who had not yet learned to keep quiet. Zach felt thrilled, he loved combat exercises and was relieved that they would not have to do any mind-numbing work all day.

"The younger squadrons will follow their respective commanders now to continue with their regular exercises." the sergeant continued.

As the sergeant finished, the commanders of the younger squadrons led their disappointed disciples out of the arena. Zach watched the younglings as they stumbled out in their little black robes, carrying their tiny wooden practice swords. He wondered if his squadron had ever looked so tiny and weak.

The remaining eight squadrons were ordered to sit down along the outlines of the arena after being told the rules of the tournament. Zach was excited to hear that it was a one on one tournament, and as one of the best swordsmen at the Monastery, he stood a good chance of winning.

As they all sat down, eagerly waiting, the sergeants called out the names of the first eight contestants who were to fight each other. Disappointed that he did not get to fight in the first round, Zach watched the called out fighters rise and enter the arena floor. He paid particular attnetion to the two students who stood facing each other only a few yards away, and he knew that the rest of his squadron did the same, since one of the two combatants was one of them.

At the sergeant's command, the fighters bowed before raising their swords and charging at each other. Zach had to force himself not to cheer for his friend and squadron member; unnecessary noice was prohibited and would lead to punishment for the entire squadron. But neither Zach nor the rest of the squadron were able to contain themselves and cheered loudly when their friend knocked the sword of his opponent out of his hand and put his blade against his throat, forcing him to surrender.
When the four fights were over, the losers were sent to sit on the bleachers in the far end of the arena, and the winners returned to their squadrons where they were greeted by cheers. As soon as everyone was once again seated, the sergeant called out another eight names, and Zach jumped to his feet as his own name was yelled. With a supportive pat on the back from his friend next to him, he slowly walked out onto the arena to face his opponent.

He had to cover up a smile which spread across his face when he saw his opponent; a tiny little boy from one of the younger grades who looked like he could barely hold up his own sword. 'Too easy' Zach thought to himself as he bowed and raised his sword, waiting for the boy to attack. He felt pity for the nervous boy in front of him who seemed terrified to be put up against and older, fully trained Monasterian like Zach.

"Don't worry, I'll go easy on you" he whispered.

Moments later, he charged at the boy who froze in place, making it really easy for Zach to smack him on the hand with the broadside of his sword, causing him to lose the grip of his weapon and drop it. The boy surrendered before Zach had even put his blade against his throat, and quickly ran towards the bleachers. Zach returned to his laughing squadron and sat down with them, watching the remaining fighters go at each other.

As the sun moved across the sky, the remaining disciples along the sides of the arena were reduced to a mere handful. Not surprisingly, but to Zach's dismay, several of his own squadron members remained, meaning that he would be forced to fight his friends. He knew how easy it was to get carried away in the heat of a fight, and he had endangered his friendship with many fellow students through practice fights over the years. And since they were all almost equally skilled, the fights could become really drawn out and rough. But Zach was determined to win this tournament, and he knew that all the others were as well.

This time the sergeant only called out four names to fight, and Zach heard that he was put up against Pali, one of his closer friends in the squadron.

"May the best man win" Pali said with a smile as they faced each other, waiting for the command that would start the fight. Zach returned the smile; for years the two of them had competed against each other, always fighting about who was the strongest, or who was the best swordsman, or the most disciplined, and this had driven them to become the best in their squadron. But they had never really managed to determine who was the best of the two, they were almost perfect equals. This time however, Zach was determined to prove who was the best swordsman once and for all.

As they bowed by the command of the sergeant, Zach shut out everything around him and focused his entire mind on the fight, as he had been trained. He charged at his friend, creating a loud clink as their two swords clashed together. He  jumped to the left and parried an attack from Pali, immediately swinging his own sword at him once again. The two of them moved around the arena, charging at each other and blocking attacks until they were both completely exhausted, breathing heavily and desperate for rest. Zach noticed how the other fight was already finished, and all the students on the bleachers were cheering for them alone now.

As Zach lost focus only for a moment he failed to properly block his opponent's attack and lost his balance, which Pali took advantage of and threw a kick at Zach, hitting him in the side of the head and knocking him to the ground. Zach felt the adrenaline pump through his body as he rolled on the ground, desperately avoiding Pali's attacks. Even though the swords were blunted, a clear hit with it would leave a red mark, proving that he had been defeated. He mustered up his remaining strength, raised his sword and blocked a powerful attack aimed at his chest. Barely being able to hold out against the power that Pali used to push his sword down, he saw his last chance of victory. He noticed that Pali too was fighting with his last strength, and had sacrificed his balance to focus all his power. Zach rolled to the side and kicked his opponent's leg, causing him to completely lose balance and fall to the ground. Barely being able to move from his exhaustion, Zach  used his last remaining strength to move over to his opponent and place his sword across Pali's exposed throat, marking his victory. He could hear the loud cheers of the crowd as he fell on his back next to his defeated opponent, both of them gasping for air.

After a few moments of rest in the warm sand, they both got up and dragged themselves off the arena floor to make room for the next fighters.

"I told you, you don't stand a chance against me" Zach said with a smirk as he sat down.
"Don't fool yourself, Zach. You knew I had you there" Pali snapped back before they both burst into laughter and Pali left for the bleachers. As soon as they had both sat down, the sergeant gave the command to start the next fights.

As the fights ended, the sound of the grand bell echoed from the watchtower, signaling that it was finally time for the first meal of the day. Thankful for the much needed break, the remaining exhausted fighters at the side of the arena lined up with their squadrons and marched towards the grand hall.