"Ha, give it up, Vaan!" Blaine cackled, reaching his arm out to help his brother back to his feet. The boys were sparring with wooden swords they had built themselves at the edge of the Glade, on top of the remaining giant stump of the sequoia.

Yeah, yeah. Get off your high horse, Vaan thought. "I swear, one day I'm gonna be the one helping you up." He took his brother's hand and stood. He ran a hand through his sweat-drenched hair to pull it from his eyes.

"I'd love to see the day." Blaine smiled.

"Yiah!" Vaan lunged forward and came down with his weapon. It was blocked and parried away by his brother with a loud Clack! Blaine swiftly countered and swung at Vaan's side. Vaan jolted back, evading the swing, and retaliated with a quick stab. Blaine leaned left; the sword missed him by an inch. He charged forward with a tucked arm, knocking Vaan down with a forceful thrust.

Vaan landed on his back, rolled over his left shoulder, and was instantly back to his feet. He ran forward, back into an onslaught of slashes. The clatter of wood echoed off the wall of trees at The Glade's edge as the swords exchanged blows. Their swings were quick and merciless while they shifted back and forth, like two dancers, blocking and evading one another in furious show of swordplay.

Blaine sliced downward. Vaan juked left, and staggered Blaine backwards with a swift kick to the side. There was a brief pause as Blaine regained his poise. They exchanged a glance, both breathing heavily. The chilled evening spring air filled their lungs with a mild burning sensation. They loosened and tightened their hands on the hilts of their swords in nervous anticipation; anticipation of who was going to make the next move. Their eyes locked onto one another, keen, sharp, focused.

A line of sweat slowly rolled down Blaine's forehead right above his left eye.

Vaan watched -- waited. He suspected his brother would wipe it away, and when he did, that's when he'd make his move. He licked his lips. His heart beat his chest like a war drum, and he felt its every pulse throughout his body. He enjoyed that feeling, they both did. They loved the sheer pump of adrenaline, the absolute sense of consciousness, the state of truly feeling alive. Especially today, the day that they were no longer boys, but the day they walked the Earth as men. Their Day of Becoming.

Vaan's assumption was correct. He watched the drip of sweat roll over Blaine's brow and the hand that reached up to wipe it. He sprang into action without hesitation. His swing was lightning quick, but not as quick as Blaine's parry.

The swords made contact and with a quick backwards fist, Blaine disarmed his brother. He propelled forward and planted an open palm in Vaan's chest, knocking him down again, breathless.

Vaan struck the base of the tree stump with a heavy thud. Before he could react, Blaine's blade laid against his throat as his foot pressed firmly into his chest.

Blaine flashed a sarcastic grin down toward his brother, "Finished?"

Vaan clawed for his sword - out of reach - a deep sigh. "Yeah, finished."

Blaine smiled and took his brother's sword.

Vaan sat up, pulled off the cloth shirt he wore, and wiped his sweat-stricken face. His body was a canvass to several marks and bruises. The most noticeable mark was a gash in his right side he had gotten sparring with his brother during one of Yeoda's lessons. Not with wooden swords, however; but with actual blades.

Blaine dropped the sword into Vaan's lap and sat down beside him, placing his back against his brother's. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Vaan groused, "There's a reason you're the best in the region." He grabbed his sword and ran his hand along its surface, tracing the dots with his fingers, feeling the deep nicks and dents along the blade's edge. "It's about time to make some new ones, huh?"

Blaine glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at his own sword. "Yeah, I guess so."

The swords were sturdy and intricate but worn; sculpted from a young tree they found growing in the Wildwood one day. Vaan had carved his into a double-edged long sword. The blade was about four feet in length, five inches wide, and besides a few nicks, smooth to the touch. The cross-guard was large and elaborate and spanned out, resembling a maple leaf.

Vaan had inscribed nine dots into the sword. Five were in a horizontal zigzag pattern, starting from the hilt and going up the blade. Another dot was placed under the fourth one in that pattern. At the end of the blade, three more dots formed a triangle with its point facing right. A line was carved connecting the dots. Under the pattern Vaan inscribed a name. Draco Maris -- Dragon of the Sea.

Vaan wrapped the hilt in strips of tanned deerskin hide. At the bottom, he burrowed out the middle of the pommel and fitted it with a shiny, smooth, and silky stone he found in a nearby creek. It was his good luck charm. It didn't do him much good though, because Blaine always seemed to kick his ass at everything except building wooden swords. Vaan thought his was much more superior, and on an artisan level, it was.

Blaine had designed a simpler sword resembling a saber. The cross-guard came out and curved around to connect at the bottom and the hilt was sanded for a smooth grip. Although longer, the blade was not as wide as his brother's, and came to a sharp point. Along the wooden blade, Blaine had also engraved dots and a name. They were almost identical to Vaan's, except the dots that formed his dragon started at the end of the blade and ended at the hilt. The words Draco Lunae, or Dragon of the Moon, were inscribed.

Crickets were starting to chirp their timeless songs. Vaan slipped his shirt back on, turned, and laid down across the massive stump. He gazed up into the heavens, and watched the sun kiss the world goodnight, peering its plasma-orange and red across the evening sky "Blaine?"

"Yeah?" Blaine answered, laying back himself.

"Do you ever wonder about our father?"

There was a brief moment of silence and Blaine glanced at his brother, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. . . I mean, do you ever wonder what he was like?"

Blaine chuckled, "I sometimes like to believe that--"

The voice of their mother interrupted him, "Vaan! Blaine!" Luma called, "Come on, it's time for sup."

"Coming, Ma!" they called back in unison.

"Come on," Blaine said, "I'm hungry and it's pretty chilly out."