The morning began with tranquility. The rooster crowed in the distance, as Jack stirred at the sound, day had arrived, and it was time to start the work. Leaping out of bed Jack started to his backpack and ran to the barn to take the cattle to pasture. The family had five cows, two old females, two young females and one male calfling. They used to have one bull, which had died the previous year from disease. The younger calfling, was half the size of the other cattle by now, and tried to show his dominance on the other females, but being so small could never make the landing.
Jack sat at the base of the tree as the cattle grazed reading one of his books about the history of the Fae, which he wondered if Nimue was, based on the description of the fae in the book.
"Oye," Shouted a voice from behind, Jack looked around, there was no one there.
"Am I hearing things?" Looking around some more, hearing footsteps behind him, Jack turned. Nothing, turned again, nothing. The only sound he heard was teeth ripping grass out of the ground. Then a tap on his shoulder made his skin crawl, turning. Wack. Jack landed on the ground, punched in the nose, looking up he saw, Fremde.
"What was that for?" Jack exclaimed.
"You need to pay attention, anyone can sneak up on you," said Fremde confidently, "That's your next lesson."
"Not letting people sneak up on me?" said Jack turning his head up to drain the blood.
"In part, seeing danger coming before it happens." Fremde took an offensive stance, his feet slightly wider than shoulder width apart, hands up and loosely held, not quite fists, not quite chops either, Fremde had that strange look that told Jack this lesson was one of the more difficult ones, his eyes were narrow as he grinned wickedly at Jack, Yeah this was going to be a hard lesson.
Moments later Fremde was blind folded in the field, as Jack snuck up on him, stick in hand, ready to strike.
Jack charged the Fremde swinging the stick like a club and the old man ducked under the stick in one swift motion, swinging his leg at the back of Jack's knees. flying through the air Jack landed on his back the wind knocked out of him. Jack stood back on his feet holding the stick out, Fremde, with the blindfold still over his eyes, "Good lad, back on your feet."
It frustrated Jack how the old man could do that. Jack swung his stick again, like a sword this time, Fremde parried with his off hand, knocking the stick-sword back, Jack struck again, but only hitting air, Fremde dodged behind the stick, and slapped Jack in the face.
"How is this teaching me to see danger before it happens?" Jack asked frustrated.
Fremde chuckled, as he disarmed Jack, slapping him backward. "Boy if you are going to announce your presence while we are training, then you won't learn anything."
Jack stood his nose flaring, and brow furrowed, "What am I learning, WHAT AM I LEARNING?!?"
Fremde slapped Jack's face with the stick, "In order to see danger coming, you must become the danger that comes, in order to see the monster in the dark, you must become that monster in the shadows, once you know how to take a city, you can be more equipped to protect your walls, and lands."
"What does that even mean, Become darkness to defeat darkness?"
"Do you want to be a hero?" asked Fremde
"I want to protect my home, a hero is a knight or a king or a mage, not a farmer."
"Not all who wear shining fancy armor are heroes, and most who wield magic are corrupt, some of my favorite heroes are farmers, and I know of a king who was once a carpenter's son, understand that not all will be or ever has been what it seems, life is more beautiful than that."
Jack stood silently, pondering the wise man's words, "Sir..."
"Yes, son?"
Jack cleared his throat awkwardly, "What is your name?" Jack stammered, "I always call you Fremde, because no one knows where you come from, nor cares who you are, but I want to know who are you?"
The old man chuckled, "Well boy, you can say that my name is..." He never got to finish, as he spoke a spear blade protruded out of his chest as Jack jumped back, eyes wide and heart racing, "Sir?"
The old man looked down absent minded as he fell over, blood pouring from the corner of his mouth, Jack caught him before he hit the ground, he pulled the spear out of the mans chest. Looking up Jack saw giants, Giants? His mind raced as he saw a ditch close by. Sliding on the ground with Fremde on his back Jack crawled to the ditch laying back holding the old man who was bleeding out. "J-J....a...c..k..."
"Shhhh..."
The pounding of distant thunder could be heard, or was it their footsteps, Jack peered up over the ridge, to see the giants standing at least a full oaks length tall, their heads shaved, and their beards thick and long, they wore simple leather armor. Jack remembered back to the night before, Nimue said that the giants would return, but he didn't know if it was a dream. This is real! The giants of myth and legend had returned, and they came back with a vengeance.
"J...a...c...k..." Jack looked down, as the old man's eyes faded, the old man who had been like a father to him, more than his 'true' Father ever was.
"Fremde?" Jack asked, hope for his survival rising, "What is it?"
"You.........asked............my.............name...........I........must..........tell ........you..before......"
"DON'T SAY THAT YOURE GOING TO LIVE."
Fremde let out a chuckle, that was more of a cough, "Don't....be...s-stupid......boy."
Tears filled Jack's eyes as he held the old man close, "Don't die, please don't die on me..."
"My name....is....Lancelot...."
Jack's eyes perked up, "Lancelot... You?"
Lancelot the old smiled, as his eyes faded, speaking his last breath, "You must save your brother Jack...." Lancelot's voice strained as he gripped on to life to tell Jack one last secret before he faded from this realm, from his vessel, "Jack your....f-father is not....the farmer, you....and......your brother are sons.......of.........The king."
Jack blinked, "W....WHAT?!?" Jack stammered, his breath quickening as his mind raced with this new information, thinking of the farmer who raised him and fed him, the man who beat him, and belittled him, the man who favored his older brother, Dredmur over him. Dredmur, the liar and the cheat, there is not saving that.
Jack sat in the ditch deep in thought until he could hear the cries from the cattle, from the village, the laughter from the giants, from the thunder, and the old man who taught him how to fight, who taught him the difference between right and wrong, lying dead in his arms, Jack's blood boiled as he laid Lancelot to rest pulling his hunting knife from his sheath, and stood from the ditch, as a giant wielding his fathers pickaxe, the pickaxe that had his father's, well not his father, the symbol of the family the old farmer belonged to, Jack looked up knife in hand as he charged the giant.
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