My breath fogged in front of me as the unseasonably cold autumn air burned my face. Muscles warming my body as the wind kept trying to steal it. The rhythmic slapping of my shoes against the sidewalk briefly slowing as I crossed a street. On the other side, the asphalt gave way to a dirt path leading into the forest surrounding our property.

  The sounds of the modern city faded as the path wove its way around a few trees. Replaced by the sound of insects all around and the birds high above. Hearing these always soothed me. My mind calmed as I took in my surroundings.

  Abruptly, the sound of wooshing came from my left. The wooden sword barely passing over me as I ducked. My feet skidding through the dirt covering the path as I tried to stop.

  As my feet skid to the edge of the path, one of my feet snagged on an exposed root. Gravity and momentum tried to lay me out on the ground, to leave me open for my attacker to finish me off. Muscle memory, training, and luck saved me. With the last of my momentum, I managed to turn and face my attacker.

  “Better.” Came my dad’s voice. His sword held out, ready to continue his attack. “But you shouldn’t be just standing there. How many times have we told you to always disable your attackers before they can attack again? Or do you think this is a game where people will give you a turn before attacking a second time?”

  His words were a reminder and a challenge. Before I had the chance to answer either, the crook of my neck blossomed in pain as a second wooden sword struck. Crying out, I turned to face my second attacker. Standing there, her sword outstretched was my mother. Her perpetual frown was on full display as she let me move away.

  “What the hell are you both doing?” I cried out as I rubbed at the spot. It was yet another bruise I would have to explain to the school administration on Tuesday.

  “Since you are nearly of age it is time that we step up your training.” She said as if it was obvious. Her head tilting a little as she took me in. I didn’t care what my parents kept telling me about this being normal. About how their parents had done the same to them. This couldn’t be normal. Nothing about what my parents did matched anything other kids talked about at school.

  Shaking my head, I turned and continued down the path to our house. “Get dressed in a workout outfit and come back outside.” She ordered. I didn’t respond because she wouldn’t listen anyway.

  One thing that I had over other kids I knew, my room was huge. It took up half the third floor and included a full bathroom. The only other room on the floor was one I was forbidden to enter. Not that I could. No matter where I looked, there wasn’t a single door or window leading into it.

  Dropping my bag on my desk, I quickly changed into one of my many clean workout sets. On my way out of my room, I grabbed one of the many wooden swords and knives from a rack on the wall before jogging down the stairs and outside. My parents were going at it.

  Their movements were blurred as they attacked and defended until my mom stepped away. Her eyes narrowed as her frown deepened. “How did you pull off that move?”

  “You mean the one that grazed your back?” At her nod, he started to say something before spotting me. Quickly changing his response, “I will tell you later.”

  They stood there looking at each other before she turned to me. “Today you will be going against me.” Lifting her sword she gave me an uncharacteristic warning. “Get ready.” Even with the warning, my sword barely made it up in time to deflect her strike as I moved to the side. Still, I knew that I had only been able to do so because she had let me. There was no way that I could ever match either of them for speed, skill, or strength.

  “We have been training you for years and this is all you have to show for it?” She called out as her sword barely missed me. “Pathetic. Your father and I were better than this with half the training.”

  “Then why don’t you go back to training with him?” I grunted out as I failed to deflect a blow. Instead stopping it and catching it between my sword and the guard. Taking the chance to try to disarm her, I twisted my sword in a fast arc. She didn’t let go or attempt to retreat like I thought she would. Instead moving with the move and getting closer. Using the momentum of the swing to try and attack.

  One, two, three different strikes hit me in a flash. Each targeting a different part of the body. If her sword had been real and this was a battle, I would be dead from any of those strikes. My body collapsed to the ground as one of the strikes took my leg out from under me. I stayed there, lying on my back as I panted. “Better but still lacking.” Came my father's voice.

  Seeing as they were not rushing me to get up, I chanced asking a question, hoping that they might accept it as a challenge. “If I can hit either of you, can I go to the Kali tournament this weekend?”

  “No.” Was my mother's instant response.

  Fortunately for me, my father wasn’t so dismissive. “You know how your mother and I feel about tournaments. Plus, what would be in it for us if we won?”

  I knew what they probably wanted, but I wasn’t willing to go that far. Instead, I offered something I could give up without an issue. “I won't complain about the training all weekend?”

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  “While that would be nice,” he said while scratching his chin. “But it's not enough. What about agreeing to not see your friends for a week.” My head practically vibrated back and forth as I disagreed. Knowing my parents, they would take me on at a faster speed and then say I needed more training. Hell, they might even go so far as saying that staying home from school was part of the agreement. I could see my friends there after all.

  “I am liking this more and more,” my mother said. A glint in her eye as she twisted her wrist a few times. Not liking the look in her eyes, I rolled to my left. Away from both of them and towards a nearby tree. Rolling up the roots until the trunk stopped my attempted escape. The tip of the sword skimmed the ground as she swung it up at me. Aiming to use the roots holding me off the ground to get under my side.

  Flexing my legs, I leveraged my body up and around the trunk of the tree. Using it to block her next two strikes. “No, no. I am good with training all weekend. Sorry, I brought up the idea.” I called out.

  Unfortunately, neither seemed to want to listen to me or my complaints. My dad tossed me my sword. In my haste to get away from my mother's attack, I had forgotten it. Keeping my eyes on them, I grabbed my sword and started to back up. Without warning, they both attacked me. Working as a seamless pair, they walked me around the property. Thankfully the trees and subsequent branches in this section blocked many of their attacks. Coupled with them, I managed to block most of their strikes.

  Sadly, it was not to last. I knew these woods well and they were driving me into an open clearing. Blocking every attempt I made to go in a different direction. Leaving me with the decision to either take a stand here in the woods, run through the field, or do something crazy. I chose to do something crazy.

  With a couple of short hops backward, I moved to the center of the clearing. Keeping an eye out for them as I prepared for when they decided to attack. Fortunately, they seemed to be letting me prepare. All the better to show me that I wasn’t good enough yet.

  My right hand repositioned on the hilt of my sword. Moving from a two-handed grip to one-handed as my other hand reached behind me. Quickly sliding the knife from its sheath, I held it in a reverse grip. With a few twirls and quick swings, I reminded myself about my sword's shift in weight and leverage.

  Both parents walked out from behind some trees. As soon as they saw that I was ready, they rushed me. My mother charged me head-on. Swinging her sword in a downward chop. If I had to guess, she was aiming for the spot she had hit earlier. Likely to make a point. On my right, my father's body was low as he used his entire body in his upward slash.

  I took in both attacks without thinking about anything. Just letting my training and muscle memory take over. Feet dancing, I moved forward and slightly to the right. Not trying to block either. Instead attacking my mother with my knife while her strike slid past my arm without hitting anything. The point of the knife lightly struck the spot over my mother's heart as my father's sword hit my sword arm.

  It hit sooner than he had intended making the slash weaker than intended. Still, the strike was hard enough to numb my arm. Gritting my teeth, I kept hold of my sword. My mother’s feet blurred as she moved to get away. I didn’t let her. Stepping forward I moved to attack my mother again to show her that my one hit wasn’t a fluke.

  Before I could land another hit, something struck the back of my head with enough force to knock me off my feet. Vision darkening and ears ringing, I heard my father sighing as he said, “So, guess you lost the wager.” My mind fuzzed as it tried to recover from the attack.

  It wasn’t the first time this had happened and my parents pushed me to recover from such injuries as fast as possible. Going so far as to strike at me if I stayed down too long. Everything snapped back into focus as she flatly denied his statement, “I never agreed to your wager.”

  “True.” My father's voice became contemplative as he voiced an idea, not realizing that I was coming around. “Since we won't be able to train him next weekend, we should keep him home for the week anyway.”

  “And you guys expect me to just agree to that?” I groaned out as I slowly sat up.

  My mother shrugged before turning to leave. Shooting over her shoulder. “Doesn’t matter if you agree or not. Until you are no longer under our protection, you will do as you are told. No one, even those government people, can tell us otherwise.”

  “Hah, you want me to listen to you when you cannot even keep your side of a deal? Dream on. I will be going to school and there is not…”

  Spinning around and pointing a finger at me, she interrupts me, “You will listen to us and do as you are told. Even if we have to force you to stay home by hog-tying you, we will. Why? Because we are your parents and we know what is best. You may be an adult in this country's eyes, but you are still a child who knows nothing of this world. Nothing of the darkness lurking behind and under everything.”

  “I may not know about this darkness, but I sure as hell do not need a sword to deal with it. They are useless in modern combat. This would be clear to you if you bothered to read anything about how wars have been fought throughout your lifetime. It is the knife that retains its use to this day, not your precious sword.” As soon as I said this they both seemed to want to interject something. I don’t let them. Refuse to let them. Determined to finally be heard instead of always being told to just do as I was told. “Not that I need either with all the martial arts you have been forcing me to learn for the last ten years.”

  “On the topic of martial arts, do you know what the kids at the Kali Academy think when they hear about the training you put me through every day? Their parents? My teachers? They think I am addicted to fighting. That I am using it to deal with some issue or another. The number of times someone has pulled me to the side to give me the opportunity to talk about my life is overwhelming.” I demand as I work my way up to my feet. Neither reacts until I mention that other parents pull me to the side to talk about our training. At that anger flashes across both of their faces.

  Mentally I scoff at this as I continue, “When I tell them the truth they always insist that I am lying. They never say it but I can always tell the moment they determine that I am a lost cause. That is also the moment they decide that they need to make sure their kids stay far away from me.” My mother actually seems to grin a bit at this. “Do you understand that your so-called training is why I have nearly no friends? That everyone avoids me?”

  Her smile is starting to piss me off more and more as I watch it. “But is it enough for you to stop there? No. Every chance you get, you work to isolate me even more. Make me even more of an outcast. Almost as if that is your goal. And you know what? I am sick of it.” I was screaming at them both by the end. Angry at their reactions on top of being sick of them telling me what I could and could not do. Where I could and could not go. Not wanting them to try and argue their twisted point nor give them a chance to stop me, I turned and ran.

  Fleeing into the woods, not caring where I ended up. Just as long as it was away from them. Away from their control, even if it was for a short period of time.