|Making the Cut
Author: Joe 'Po' Navark PM
Jo has been training with the masters for a year now, but after a fight with Shifu, Jo finds himself thrust into the ultimate test, but it went unplanned by everyone and losing the fight means losing his life. The Next Dragon Warrior sequel , Enjoy!Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Mystery - Po & Shifu - Chapters: 20 - Words: 47,975 - Reviews: 90 - Favs: 12 - Follows: 5 - Updated: 02-18-11 - Published: 04-02-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5862877
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
It's me again. Well, another chapter is up again. Tell me what you all think
Making the Cut
A Farmer's Secret
The thick brown cords were practically cutting into my wrist they were so tight, but right now that was the least of my worries.
The axe was gone but it hadn't gone far. I saw Felix with the axe in hand and the whetstone in the other, his heavy build hunched over them working intently on his honing movement. While his back was turned to me he said "Was wondrin' if you'd wake up in time. Wouldn't wantchoo to miss this."
I wanted to believe I was still asleep in the cart and that this was all a nightmare. I couldn't believe what deep mess I was in. How is it that I consistently end up with my life on the line.
I put it there.
But it wasn't me this time.
Zed and Germaine.
I trusted them. I was stupid enough to trust them. What had they told Felix while I stood smiling contently at a distance to their conversation just this morning? I could see everything they said as a lie clearly now. Why had it been so hard to see it at the time? Did I want to believe them? Did I want to believe that someone out there cared about the little guy, that I wasn't alone in this impossible journey. I should have gone with my gut reaction when I first saw them.
Zed: If you'd believe us, we want to help.
They had done this
"What did Zed and Germaine tell you?" I asked grudgingly lying in the cart.
He answered irritatedly "What do they have to deal with you?"
Maybe they didn't
"They... didn't tell you to do this?" I asked confused.
"You kiddin'? What could those kids have against you?" the marmot replied.
He had no idea. He was completely clueless.
"Then what is this?"
Taking a break from the sharpening he said "Around 12 I found me the love of my life; the girl I would eventually make my me 'n her had moved to a diff'ent city in hopes of startin' fresh, new city, new home yadda yadda. But quite a while ago, seems my wife had her self a problem. She had an addiction to a certain drug. She hid it from me well. I didn't have a clue till nearly a year later. WHEN SHE OVERDOSED AND DIED!"
I cringed a bit at the sudden harsh words. "That's... That's really sad." I said not really knowing what to say. I had no idea where he was going with this, although I had a haunting suspicion that I did.
I reached my hands as far to my side as I could and felt for my dagger beneath my pants and felt nothing. He had already found it. How had he known? Had he seen the discreet bump on my waist and not said anything? Once he bound me had he searched through my pockets for money and found the dagger instead?
I was without my dagger. Now I was starting to panic.
He continued "That certain drug was sold to her by two certain people. I didn't know about it for years till one day I found out who they were. By time I found out though, I couldn't lay a hand on them. They had already been apprehended by the authorities."
He couldn't know. How could he possibly know?
"You mean the badgers you told me about?" I said thoughtfully.
He growled "I mean your parents!"
"My parents?" I did my best to sound perplexed. "What are you talking about? You said they were the Grentows. My name is Jo Crevan."
"Don't bull!#$ me. You don't think Zed and Germain told me your real name, Xanidor. I remember that name as clear as when I first heard Cal and Jia hada baby, by mistake I got no doubt." He started with the whetstone again and said in a lower voice more to himself than to me "Only some one on drugs would name their kid that.
"If I can't lay a hand on them, I'll have to make do with icing their precious son."
My voice was turning desperate. "I'm sorry that that happened to, but I'm nothing like my parents. You said yourself, you knew how they treated me."
The marmot turned his head around toward me. "And what kinda person will that cause you to grow up to be? What kind of person would that make me if I didn't end the Grentow bloodline? You're blood is no good unless it's splattered all over the ground." He turned back around.
I rolled onto my side in exasperation when I felt my knife under my pants attached on the other side. I gave a spontaneous sigh of relief. If I could move I would have kicked myself. I then grappled for the knife trying my best not to draw his attention toward me. If I had a full swing I could sliced through it like butter, but with the limited movement of my hands I proceeded to slide the knife back and forth an inch at a time slowly slicing into the threads of the cord. I just needed him to keep his back turned just a little bit longer. I was praying he wanted that axe as sharp as he could get it.
With a final push of grit, the rope strand snapped and unraveled from it's shape. With my arms free I cut through my leg bindings with ease. He still had his back turned working with the axe.
I slowly stood up and lifted the obsidian knife behind his unsuspecting back. As I did my eye caught my black reflection in the blade again.
He wasn't worth it.
Not knowing what else to do I slowly brought the knife back down. I looked behind me and saw the shovel in the wood pile where the axe had been. That'll do.
I grabbed the long wooden handle. Just as I saw him put down the whet stone on the seat I swung the shovel with all my might and struck his head on the flat of the metal blade resonating with a loud bong.
His whole body shook and he fell from the cart onto the dirt road unconscious. I stared at his body for a second, the shovel still in hand till I saw his chest rise and fall with short breaths. I sat down in his previous position at the front of the cart, grabbed the reigns, and started the cart moving again. I kept looking back at him making sure he wasn't getting up. It wasn't until he was out of sight that I felt safe.
It was only then that I realized that since I'd awoken we were no longer in the flat countryside I'd grown so accustom to seeing. We were in an elevated terrain. It wasn't that elevated. Not what I thought when I had heard of the Black Mountains, then again I never really expected Valko's school to be perched on top of the peak. It was probably near the bottom amongst the other mountain villages.
I took out the map to see if he had gone off course while I was asleep. After reading the map for a bit and vaguely remembering the surroundings before I'd fallen asleep, I found I was still in the right direction.
If he had been smart, he wouldn't have kept heading toward the school.
Within two miles of my destination, I grabbed my bag along with the whetstone he had left and left the cart. With a bit of walking Felix would find it when he woke up.
I don't know why even I cared. Especially since he attempted to kill me. I guess deep down I knew he had a right to be angry, even if he tried to take it out on me in a merciless way.
But I didn't want anymore death than needed on this trip.
Honestly I felt bad for thinking they had they had betrayed me. They had been two of the few people who had helped me.I couldn't be mad at Zed and Germaine. They had no way of knowing that telling Felix my birth name would end with me in pieces.
I sighed. My parents caused more problems for me and they aren't even around anymore.
I glided the whet stone over the edges of the obsidian. I wasn't sure if it even needed the sharpening. But I wanted it to be ready for anything. It was now 3 o'clock in the afternoon and I'd be entering the school grounds at any moment. Unlike Keen Lee's, there was no gate or wall. A low wooden fence darkened with weathering, but that was it. The buildings were still at a distance from the fence up a gentle slope so I couldn't make out much about it.
I removed the whetstone and held out the knife with one of its edges facing up. I plucked out a strand of hair amongst my fur, held it over the knife and dropped it letting it drift onto the blade's sharpened edge. The hair strand fell from the knife in two pieces.
I smiled at the cut pieces. It was good.
It was ready.
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