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Making of a Mask [Closed]


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Kieran closed his eyes as he flew backwards through the air and landed on, or rather in a pile of discarded barrels and empty crates that had been stacked up near the forest line.  Slowly he opened one eye and then another, looking up at the branches and greenery above and couldn’t help but smile as little bits of sunlight shot through the dense canopy.  His smile was quickly gone as the one who kicked him into such a position walked over and started to list all the things he had done wrong, his voice getting louder with each syllable. 


“Are you even listening anymore kid?!” he shouted, his face starting to turn a lovely shade of red.


Kieran slowly got himself up, dusted himself off and spat a mixture of blood and saliva to the side before responding.


“I’ve grown deaf from all your shouting old man.” he retorted back, a smirk starting to play on the corner of his lips.


The older man opened his mouth to respond to the comeback but instead reached inside his vest for a small flask of fermented liquid.  Taking a sip, then a longer sip before putting it back in place.


“You’re paying me to teach, been telling you that you are too easy to read for days now.” His voice had evened out and normal color was coming back to his face.  “Yeah you’re strong and have good reflexes, one could say you even have a hint of talent for the sword, but…” his voice trailed off as he turned around and took his original position across from Kieran.


Sword in hand, Kieran followed and took an offensive position, ready for their next bout.


“But?” Kieran questioned, tilting his head to the side, the smirk turning into a full-on grin as they were about to exchange blows, albeit with wooden swords, it still excited him.


Not waiting for his teacher to respond, Kieran charged the older man, easily overpower him with a full on overhead swing.  His eyes wide with excitement, he rotated his shoulder and leaned forward as he was about to go for a slice to his midsection.  Within a split section confusion overtook his thoughts as he was again, flying backwards and admiring the lovely weather of the day before meeting the ground once more.  Rolling over backwards end over end, he finally stopped moving with his cheek pressed against the dirt.


Growling in frustration he pushed himself off the ground and threw his wooden sword at the nearest tree.


“I don’t get it!” he barked, “I’m younger, stronger and faster so why can’t I beat you!” kicking at the ground as he walked over to pick up his self-discarded weapon.


The teacher just stood there shaking his head as he watched the temper take over, knowing it would be gone as quick as it came he took this as an opportunity to enjoy a few more sips from the flask.


“Good thing your skull is thick enough to provide protection without a helmet, need to keep what wits you have left.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at his own joke, this however just added fuel to Kieran’s dying fire.


Leaning over Kieran picked up the wooden sword and immediately pointed it at the old man as he finished speak. “What was that Pops?  You want to go again?!  This time, this time I’ll be the one making jokes and be standing and, and….and” pausing for a moment he quickly added “and drinking!”.


“I’m beginning to wonder if you don’t hear me or if you’re just not listening.” The old man started to walk towards Kieran as he spoke. “Your moves, a blind man could read you kid.” Placing a hand on Kieran’s shoulder as he continued “Your face tells all your opponent needs to know.”


Turning around the old man started to walk back towards town “That’s it for today, if you’re late again tomorrow we won’t have time to spar and we’ll spend the entire time working on techniques.”


Kieran groaned at the thought as he watched the old man leave the little area they had been training at for the last few weeks.  Folding one arm against his chest as he held the wooden sword and tapped it against his shin in thought.  An idea came to mind, it might work, but he had to get it done tonight.


Running back towards town he spent the next hour at the market going to various shops gathering what materials he thought he might need.  Back in his room he became to crudely carve out a wooden mask.  The craftsmanship left a lot to be desired, but all he cared about was the function and to get results.  The last bit of work was painting it black and letting it dry overnight.


The next morning he arrived at the training area earlier than expected, sprinting the entire way there.  When his teacher arrived on time he was greeted by a masked Kieran.  Holding his blade up he took an offensive stance as he smiled behind his mask.


“Let’s dance old man.”

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