#myzriel

[yutreess]

myzriel

{۰†۰} — "Nephew."

[blue-skinned-druid]

@Myzriel: A Lesson to Learn (Featuring Zaknafein Songblade)

Young Zaknafein Songblade was out in the Riftwood, to be specific, the clearing he found and turned into a training area for himself. The year before, he had been burned and nearly killed by the Fey'ri, Killik Rydrion when the now 14 year old weapon master in name only commented that his rival's father, Myzriel, could possibly be dead. 

As he swung the sword he called Duel Symphonius down at the training dummy he put together, he thought about how the fey'ri looked when he attacked. The boy's rage, the fire he was surrounded in, the pain Killik caused when he nearly killed Zak, and then the teen remembered the boy's face when he stopped. How frightened he looked as if he realized what he was doing, and how he ran away instead of just finishing Zak off.

"Mal'ai." Zak said, "He should just grow up already."

He then split the sword he held into two longswords, their musical properties from being a bardic blade sounding higher pitched as he created a symphony of steel while hitting the dummy than they did when they were just one blade. A little later, the young drow stopped and caught his breath, and realized his shirt was now feeling uncomfortable on this hot day. Carefully looking around to make sure no one was watching, the red eyed drow, with his now shoulder length white hair pulled back into a ponytail, looked around to make sure no one was watching as he took the shirt off and carefully placed it on top of a stump. Now shirtless, Zak looked down at his arms and sighed as he stared at four of the five brands on his body. His right arm being branded with a rose and a lily, and his left being branded with a skull and a sword. The fifth brand however, was on his shoulder and resembled a snake.

He hated these brands. They reminded him of the five times he had been captured by slavers on his lonely journey to Riftwood, and each time he had escaped. However, he also felt ashamed of them, as he did not think a weaponmaster should have the markings of a slave on his body, and tried to hide them whenever he could.

Deciding to distract himself from the brands, Zak then picked his blades up again and started attacking the dummy, unaware that he wouldn't be alone for long.