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His wound scratched at his side as he bandaged it again with a herb covered cloth. His ribs was sore around the red splotches of skin that still carried the mark of Gwann. He sighed and carefully finished his work.
Long months had passed of weakness before he could even walk and still the wound closed ever so slowly preventing him from regaining his former physique. Only with the healing skills taught by his mother Nolemire and the aid of Kellidir and Candil had he succesfully declined the wound's purpose. Now time was his only ally through this grief. Time, training and elvish stubborness.
He looked across the empty stone circle and remembered the years before when it all had started, when he had begun his training on the young, bold and quite green behind the ears recruits. Recruits that had become companions and... Friends.
His eyes turned to the dark hilt of a keen edged sword, standing adamant and silently in the center of the circle. Resting in stone.
One day he would carry his Legacy again, when his hand would wield the sharp blade with more accuracy and strength. Until then he would make good with what he had.
He nodded to himself and got dressed, a smile crossing his face ever so gently.
Besides. The Son of Phindor needed to finish his training properly, one last rite of passage and lesson before Wulf and he could call themselves equals in arms. He better get to work on his own training though and grinned. In his current state he would offer no valuable lesson for his friend. but in time, he would. He looked at the blade again. And by that time his ancestral sword would be in his hand again.
He found his armor, lying on a stone boulder beside him, setting the straps and adjusting the pieces of mail.
What a day it would be he mused.
A day of celebration and renewed hope. But more importantly, a day where he would feel proud of his old apprentice's accomplishments and fortitude. He equipped his leather belt carrying a worn steel blade sheathed in a simple scabbard then slung his longbow across his shoulder and back. Followed by a quiver of no remarkable fashion.
Aye, the feeling of pride that surged through him felt good. Good enough for a couple of days of training in the wild...
"Time to hunt some orcs..."