Scribblings

A young man stood in the center of a dirt circle, long staff held in the guard position.  Three men circled him, each carrying a broadsword.  One of the swordsmen stepped in and quickly struck but the young man blocked it.  Immediately the other two swordsmen attacked.

*clang* *clack* *clang* *thunk* *CRACK*

The young man blocked four quick strikes and then struck back with a quick, perfectly timed strike to the temple of one of the swordsmen.  He dropped like stone.  The other two swordsmen stepped back quickly as the young man knelt next to the fallen swordsman.

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“Papa! Papa!” a young girl shouts as she runs into the manor through the garden door.  “Papa!  I did it!”  An older gentleman stands as the little whirlwind of energy bounces into the library.  He smiles as she breathlessly stops in front of him.  “Papa!  I did it!  I finally did it!” she gasps.

“You did what, Najal?  Bring the angels of light down from the heavens?” he smiles at her.

“Papa!  Don’t be silly.   I can’t do that yet.  I summoned the wind though!  I concentrated real hard because I wanted the big apple from the top of the tree.  And then it was there!  In my hands!  I must have summoned the wind to knock it down, right? Right?”  she manages to gasp out in a single breath.

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