FicWad

Even though Turwaition was sixty-two years old, he was strong and tall. His hands were rough and wrinkled. His face wore a grim mask. His eyes were dark and brown. He stared at Nosteruion with a steady expression, neither angry nor kind.

"Forgive me Master. I apologies for my foolish actions," said Nosteruion ashamed. He was glowing red, because his fellow students were standing beside him.

"A true warrior will never do a foolish act nor will apologies for his actions if his intentions were right," said the Sword master. His voice had both power and control.

Nosteruion looked into his Master's eye and said, "I thought he was an assassin. He was lurking near our camp that night. So I..." but Turwaition stopped him.

"I clearly see your point young master. My question is, did you ask for permission?" asked the old man.

Nosteruion looked down, incapable of facing his master's strict eyes and shook his head.

Turwaition gave a heavy sigh and said sadly, "You have proved yourself unworthy. I am afraid I have no other choice than remove you from this training." Everyone around him gave an astounding sound of disapproval. Then fell silent when Turwaition stared at them.

Nosteruion was dumbstruck. Those words hit him like a heavy club. He looked up in disbelief. He thought he was going deaf or mad. Those words cannot be true, he thought helplessly. However, Turwaition turned and went back to his tent.

Cofniben came running beside Nosteruion and said, "What are you waiting for? Go and ask for forgiveness," he was sweating and panting like Nosteruion.

Nosteruion knew that nothing would change the old man's decision. However, he wanted to give it a chance. Since, he did not want to leave his friends and Honor forever.

He walked slowly towards Turwaition's tent. He hesitated for a second, and then he entered. The tent was big. It had rows of shelves. There was a table full of weapons, ranging from Melee type to the long-range bows.

Turwaition was sitting on an oak chair, showing his back to Nosteruion.

Nosteruion bowed and stepped forward.

"Master?" called Nosteruion in a very feeble voice.

"Yes?" came the reply

"Can I come in?" asked Nosteruion doubtfully

"Yes"

"I came here to beg for forgiveness," He said waiting for a reply. When none came, he continued, "Please forgive me and take me back into Ithil "Moon." Being part of Ithil is more important to me than my own life." A drop of tear trickled from Nosteruion's eye. His voice was not more than a whisper, but every word pleaded for mercy.

The old man did not reply nor stirred. He waited several minutes for an answer. The old man was too stubborn. Therefore, Nosteruion bowed again and turned away.

"How do you expect me to grant forgiveness when you do not respect my power nor obeyed my commands?" asked Turwaition. Nosteruion turned around with hope and stepped forward.

"I will never disobey your command Master. Just give me one chance," prayed Nosteruion.

The old man did nothing but turned around and met the young man's eye.

"Your father was a great man and a good warrior. He never once questioned my orders even though it cost his own life. Bless his soul," murmured the Master "I expected the same discipline from you Master Nosteruion, but you disappointed me." He shook his head slowly and turned around.

Nosteruion had nothing to say. He was greatly ashamed when his deeds were compared to his noble father's. He hung his head low. He no longer had the courage or the strength to plead. Therefore, he stood there like a molten statue, expressionless.

Turwaition stood up, patted Nosteruion's shoulder, and said in a high voice, "I am sorry to say this boy, but you are incapable of joining the honorable Ithil. You will be better off with your sister in Oakvale, your only living relative. Maybe I expected a lot from you, it is partially my fault. Forgive me. Go now, May the God be with you."

Nosteruion stood there, as if his whole world was taken away from his possession. He felt empty. Neither there were tears to cry nor any happiness left to smile. He had no choice but to accept his ill fate. He turned around and walked out of the tent with the most painful and despaired heart.

Cofniben was waiting for him with little hope. When he saw his friend's desolated face, he stiffened.

"Nosteruion?" he called, "What happened?" his voice had both eagerness and fear.

"None can change one's fate brother, none can," replied Nosteruion gravely. The fear of leaving his friend and his Valor, his father's Honor behind chocked his throat.

Cofniben shook his head, looked at the skies, and gave out an anguish cry. Nosteruion patted his friend's shoulder and said, "Don't worry about me. I am not going to vanish in the mid air. I will live to see your victory and triumph as an Ithil."

Cofniben hugged his friend and stood there for a minute, motionless.

"Once I am passed as an Ithil warrior, I will come to see you in Oakvale. Then we will chase the chickens, scare the little children and tease the beautiful young girls together," said Cofniben confidently.

Nosteruion smiled and nodded his head in agreement. Later that day, Cofniben helped Nosteruion to pack his belongings and tied it to a horse.

Nosteruion bid farewell to his fellow students, who just cheered him. Finally, he said his farewell to his Master and his only true friend Cofniben. Then he set out of the camp in a horse with a dejected heart. None will be the same again for Nosteruion Brethil.