Longing for the Past

                  THUNK!

                  A throwing dagger lodged in its target, just slightly off center. Yerik was bored. Three more throwing knives flew through the air, hitting their target, all nearly dead on to center. Yerik looked around his personal office, a place where he goes to think without interruption. A place to keep his greatest accomplishments and relish his most exciting adventures from the past. He enjoyed the invigoration from his morning exercise routine, although he dreaded facing the rest of the day filled with business and paperwork.  

                  Yerik started his school hoping to launch the careers of other young men going into the world of combat and defense. As a young warrior, he wished he had a mentor to teach him. As an experienced adult, he wanted to give back to the community that raised him; his hometown of Eknor. He thought it would be a wise choice to leave the world of a hired fighter while still on top. But he questioned his choices. He figured starting the school would be a way he to hold on to the excitement of the fight, and still stay close to home, without the pains and injuries of such glorious battles.

                  Yet, he found the school provided little excitement. He almost missed the pain of battle wounds. He had been running his school for several years now but grew weary of dealing with weak-minded students. Boys tried to lean on his success rather than find their own signature in the fighting world. Yerik wanted to teach a higher level of expertise and expectation targeting those passionate about their craft. The prestige of his school attracted people from across the land, which shifted his business to be less about training and more about money. Yerik’s initial idea of the school seemed to miss its mark as the school began to transform into a training ground for the elite that could pay their way in. He dreamed of finding talented individuals, helping them find their way to establish their own names. He hoped to create a place where young men could focus on perfecting their trade and talents. Yerik felt like he spent more time babysitting and mending insecurities than helping the already gifted launch their careers.

                  He questioned if it was worth it. He knew he promised his wife that he would stay close to home, being done with his days of venturing into far lands. That’s the reason his first marriage never worked. Driven by the thrill of adventure, he made the mistake of neglecting his family. He never stopped loving them. Now retired, he wanted to mend his relationships with his sons, but felt conflicted; his heart had not abandoned the excitement of a quest or battle. His talents were designed for far greater things than improving techniques of less than motivated young men. He yearned for adventure.

                  Yerik looked up at one of his own signs. “The Goldsword Academy for Fighting and Defense”. He regretted the stupid, yet iconic, name. Yerik went by “Goldsword” for ages, as it brought him plenty of notoriety and fame, although he never liked it. He stuck with it because it benefited his career. Yerik didn’t like the name because it represented a foolish, arrogant young man he used to be. Now finding far too much arrogance in his students, he hated looking back, realizing he may not have been much different.

                  The name “Goldsword” came from one battle in particular with a horde of bog goblins, that became one of the most beloved sagas people talked about. The battle neared an end with one last effort to find victory, and the situation looked rather grim. Yerik was not only a talented fighter, but also a brilliant strategist. He came up with a plan that he knew would ensure success despite the disapproval of others. The young arrogant man that he used to be wanted to boast about his talent and wealth, so he plated his sword with gold so that everyone would know he won the battle that day.

                  Yerik lived a saturated and lavish life, and enjoyed the wealth his talents brought him. It surprised no one that he would plate his sword with gold. As Yerik knew it would, his plan worked. There were plenty of heroes that day, yet people across the land couldn’t resist talking of the warrior with the gold sword. The stories spread and expanded past truth. Yerik enjoyed the fame, although he found it odd that clients requested him to use his gold sword. He grew tired of explaining to those that hired him that gold was not a suitable material for a sword; it was too soft, and even though the gold plating didn’t last long during the battle, the stories that came from that battle became legend. His arrogant-self loved it, yet it bothered him that people knew him for his gold sword, and not his brilliant tactics, which in all reality won the battle that day.

                  Now older, wiser, and more focused on what he wanted, Yerik didn’t miss the fame. He missed the risk of adventure. His soul found a rush of excitement living a life outside of his control, staring down the jaws of death, going up against insurmountable odds, and coming out on top. He found no other way to satisfy such a thrill. Even all the plaques, awards and accomplishment meant little. He enjoyed them to reminisce, but found no satisfaction in having achieved them when there were no more challenges to face. He longed for the days of his prime, when it seemed like the adventure never stopped. Constant unknown places, new people, new challenges. Yerik yearned for that type of life. As much as he tried to settle down for his family, he didn’t feel settled in his soul.

                  Yerik found himself suck in the middle. Too old to get hired on the best quests, or greatest battles, yet not ready to abandon the chase of glory. He told himself that settling down, this school, this life, is the life he wants, even though his heart had not adapted to it.

                  With a deep sigh, he forced himself to get up and take care of the jobs for the day. His annual graduation finished several days before Frilofest, and he still had a lot to do to clean up, make improvements, and plan for the next wave of enrollment. Yerik stood up, putting a few things back in place as he walked the hallways of his building.

                  Suddenly, a knocking rang throughout, drawing the attention of Yerik. One of his staff workers could be heard in a far room, making their way closer to answer the door. When they entered the room, Yerik waved them away, as he already walked towards the door. Yerik did not know who knocked at the door; he did not expect visitors, and not knowing was the most unexpected thing going on at the moment. Looking for his own excitement for the day, he decided to answer the door himself.