PART 1
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"Wake up Geilir! Wake up!" A voice Familiar to Geilir yelled. "The village, it's burning!" It was his sister Runa.

Geilir could smell the smoke in the air. "What do we do sister?" Geilir asked, scared out of his mind.

"Quick! Grab one thing thats the most valuable and get out!"

"Only one?"

"That's all there's time for!"

Geilir made his way to his parents bedroom, they weren't home. His father was at the smithy and his mother was in the fields. He looked through the room, push aside objects his parents dresser. He then realized smoke was starting to fill the room! "Hurry Geilir!" Runa called. He got on his knees and looked through the shelves one at a time. He went through all of them until he reached the last one. And sure enough, what he was looking for was there. His Fathers medallion. He grabbed it and ran outside, he heard a scream.

Suddenly Geilir wakes up, soaked in his own cold sweat. That was the past. I was a boy then, I'm almost a man now. You need to forget. Geilir looked around, and realized it was morning. He rolled out of his bedroll, stood up, and put his pants on. He was ready for a new day.
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Yes, I know this was short, I intend for the future installments to be longer, and I'm probably going to be doing this maybe once every day or two.
Feedback is appreciated.

EDIT: Fixed an error

A little too short for me to form an opinion, to be honest. Looking forward to future chapters though.

Yeah, I plan on atleast doubling the size of that for my next installment

Part 2
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Geilir steps outside his tent. He looks over the Horizon and sees the a beautiful glare of orange and yellow. He yawns opening his mouth as wide as possible and strecthes spreading his arms as long as he can. He walked over to a pond, flexed his muscles, and admired his own reflection. Suddenly, he smelt a great smell. He walked back to camp and saw an old man cooking food over a fire.

"What's for breakfast Arlowe?" Geilir asked.

"Bacon and eggs." The old Imperial replied.

"Where did you get that?" Geilir asked.

"Would you like to ask questions, or eat?" He responded.

"Good point." The Nord said as he sat down with his food. "So what's today's training Master?"

"Well, after you're finished eating breakfast." Arlowe said then chewed a mouthful of egg. "I'm going to make run until you throw up!"

"Fun..." Geilir said as sarcastically as possible. Geilir stuffed his face with food not minding the fact that he knew that Arlowe would follow through with his promise. After he finished. Arlowe pointed to a chain of hills.

"See those ten hills?" He asked. Geilir nodded. "I want you to run laps around them, running up to the top of the hill, then running down it then continue on the next hill. Do that all the way around in circles, until I tell you to stop." Geilir sighed deeply, he hated when Arlowe got creative. He took of running he was used to heavy conditioning so he wasn't tired easily. Or atleast he thought so. By the sixth hill he was exausted. He came to hill number seven, this one was the steepest of them all. He pumped his legs as hard as he could but he fell over, and fell down the hill, scraping his bare back on the rocks. He heard Arlowe laugh. He got up and ran up the hill, he made it to the top. He instantly turned around and went down the hill and repeated the whole process on the next hill. He had finished three and a half laps when he collapsed. He literally could not feel his legs. He let his breakfast out into the grass. He way laying there in his own puke when he heard Arlowe yell. "Did I say stop?" He can't be serious. He got up and began running as fast as could. Which wasn't fast at all. He finished ten laps total that day, and threw up bile twice.

Arlowe decided to let Geilir rest for three hours before begining sword training. He handed Geilir a wooden sword. "Go ahead come get me." Geilir swung his sword as hard as he could at Arlowe. The tiny old man blocked the Young Large Nords strike with ease. "You need to get your hips into your motion more. And when you reach the point of impact flick you wrist." Geilir took that advice to heart and tried again. He was easily blocked again. "You'll get better with experience." For an hour Geilir practiced his strike. He got better in that short period and could eventually make Arlowe make budge some. He and Arlowe rested for half of an hour. Then Arlowe handed him the wooden sword again. "Now I come and get you. Stop me." Arlowe swung his sword, Geilir brought his to meet it. Arlowe easily knocked Geilir of balance. "Bring your blocks out further, you have no power with your arms in tight like that. Geilr did just that, he was affected less. He did it again and again until Arlowe changed it up by using a quick parry, stricking Geilir in the gut. "You can stop that by deflecting my block. Just as I strike, push your blade into mine and you just may knock me off balance." Geilir did this and it mostly failed, but was still better. After another hour the sun had set and Geilir and Arlowe had stop. "Remember, all of those blocking tips apply to sheilds." Geilir nodded his head. "And, this will be your routine everyday from now on. The training will get harder, and the training will get more complex." Arlowe noticed Geilir yawning. "Rest warrior, you've earned it." Geilir stumbled on his way to his tent and fell asleep on top of his bedroll.
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There, a little longer
Length will improve as plot deepens
Feedback is appreciated!

EDIT: Fixed spelling and grammer

I liked the beginning, good introduction to the character and his past even in such a short paragraph. One spelling error.



Not bad. I've corrected and highlighted the spelling/grammar mistakes, and the phrase at the top was a little odd. Perhaps you could make it a little more descriptive. Something like: He suddenly became aware of tantalising aroma on the air. Or: Taking a deep breath he smiled as the sweet scent of breakfast drifted across on the cold morning air. Etc. Just a suggestion.

You haven't yet made it clear whether this is his first day or training or his one hundredth. From the conversation with the trainer it sounds like he knows him a fair bit, but from the sword fight ("hands him a wooden sword") and the advice given it sounds like his first day with a sword. Of course it could be he has been training for a while and this is first day with a sword. If it's not his first day I'd change the description to something like he handed Gilir his accustomed, battered wooden training sword.

Regardless of how long he has been there, I found the description of him running up the hills a little unbelievable. Of course, you don't say how big they are, or how often he has done it, so it could be possible... However, instead of saying he ran up and down x amount of hills x number of laps, why don't you describe how he is feeling on one of these runs and incorporate how long he has been running into the description. Something like: Gilirs breath rasped in and out of his tortured lungs as he began his second lap. The grass was wet with morning dew making his route treacherous, and forcing him to concentrate on every step. As he began to ascend the second hill, the dryness at the back of his throat made him long for a pitcher of water.

Anyway, hope that helps. I shall look forward to the next chapter ^_^

I found the length made it hard to get into.

Should have clarified it, Geilir is six at the time of fire. Has been with Arlowe since. First day of sword training, but has done physical training before. Is age fourteen during that day of training. And, the hills were kind of short, it takes about six or seven steps to get in the hill . And, it was kind of late when I wrote that, I'll will definetly work on implementing some more sensory details. Thank you for the constructive criticism.

PART 3
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A scream of pain filled Geilir's ears as he stepped outside his home. "That's Mom!" Runa screamed. He turned around to see where he had spent his life so far burning. He froze in place, feeling that time had been slowed down as he watched his house be burned to the ground. He felt Runa's hand grab his arm. "Come on!" Runa told him. They sprinted over to the small shack where the scream had come from. Tears filled Geilir's eyes as he saw his Mother's arm sticking out from the rubble that was once a tool shed. The shed had collapsed on her as she tried to get a bucket, to fill with water and fight the flames.

"Mother!" The word struggled its way out of Geilir's mouth, he felt as if he was choking. He always thought of himself as tough, and even as the young boy he is, he hated to let others to see him cry. But this time, he let the tears roll down his cheeks. He looked over to his sister, she was crying, this is the first time he ever saw her with any sort of weakness.

"We have to help." Runa said. "I want you to stay close, but stay back from the fire, ok?" Geilir nodded, with a blank, devastated stare. He could not find the ability to use words. He followed his sister as she ran off to find a bucket. Suddenly the dancing flames whipped up and hit Geilir, he screamed in pain.

Geilir woke up, and gently felt the scars across his chest that the burns had left on him. He had been training with Arlowe for three years now, and he was a year away from manhood. He stepped outside his tent; the sun had not risen yet. Arlowe was sitting by the fire, deep in thought. "My god, do you ever sleep you old bat?" Geilir said to Arlowe jokingly.

Arlowe let out a hearty chuckle. "I need some time to think of new ways to torture you!" Geilir laughed at the joke and Arlowe laughed along. "Speaking of your torture, we might as well get started. I want you to swim seven laps in the lake, take four laps around the hills, then carry your boulder up the big hill, and I will be waiting atop the hill with your sword training." Geilir nodded; relieved he wasn't getting creative today.

Geilir took off sprinting to the lake; he was much faster now than he'd imagined he'd ever be. He made it to the lake in a matter of seconds. He was no swimmer, so jumped into the water, making a huge splash. OUCH! He began awkwardly moving his arms in a circle like he was supposed to, but not quite doing it right. He also kicks his feet up and down to propel himself through the water but again, not quite doing it right. The first lap was easy, and he enjoyed the refreshing summertime water. The second lap was more intense for him, and became more work than play at the end. By the end of his third lap, all he could do was wait for himself to finish. Each stroke he took the lake became larger and larger. He kick he took ripped up his legs into small pieces. When he made it to that final lap, he watched himself begin to swim harder. His lungs leaped with joy, knowing that they soon would be done swimming. He reached the end of lake, and crawled out of the water like it was tar. He didn't even bother standing or getting comfortable. The only thing he could feel was his heart, pounding through his chest. He wanted to fall asleep, and never wake back up. "Get moving!" Arlowe yelled.

Geilir slowly got up, aching all over. Every single one of his joints were screaming. They were yelling at him, don't be stupid! Why are you doing this? He answered them, to be better. He ran as fast as his body would let him. He made it over to the familiar chain of hills, already in pain he started up the first hill. He felt like he was going to fall apart. The number of times he fell was too high to count, he became familiar with wet grass and mud in his face. Aside from the pain that came with falling, it was a moment to catch his breath, which at this point that was more valuable than all of the gold in the world. He thanked every god he could think of, then he thanked every daedra, that he would only be running four laps, and he had already finished two. He could barely feel his legs at this point, but the pain was still present. He had to svck it up and be a man for these final two laps. In what seemed like two decades, he finished running.

He ran, as fast as he possibly could, over to the base of the hill. He looked over to his boulder that he carried. He normally carried one that was a bit bigger than his head, but no, not today. This boulder was twice, maybe three times that. Old bastard swapped rocks! Geilir squatted down and wrapped his arm around the rock. Using his knees, he stood up slowly, grunting louder than Minotaur's roar. He then slowly moved his arms under the rock, being careful so he would not drop it. It was the heaviest thing he had ever carried. He turned toward the hill and began to walk. His feet barely left the ground, he was almost shuffling. He made his way up the hill, one slow and excruciatingly painful step at a time. In a matter of minutes, he was collapsed on top of the hill. Lying at Arlowe's feet, his chest moving up and down with every exhausted breathe he took. Arlowe had already set up a fire, he had a venison and potato stew cooking. Geilir was hungry enough to eat all of Nirn. Smelling that soup was complete torture for Geilir, for he did not have the strength to get up and eat it. Geilir rested there for an hour before he sat up, in silence Arlowe handed him a bowl filled with the steaming hot stew. Geilir took a hand and scooped the soup into his mouth like an animal, taking the bowl and drinking from it like a cup. Arlowe laughed at Geilir behavior. Arlowe slowly handed Geilir a pitcher of water. Geilir made quick work of it, gulping the whole thing in the blink of an eye.

"You act like you haven't eaten in years!" Arlowe teased, with a chuckle.

"I sure as hell feel like it." Geilir responded followed by a hearty laugh.

"Are you ready for blade training?" Arlowe asked rhetorically. Geilir nodded, as he held out his hand for his training sword. An unfamiliar texture met his hand. It was not the smooth wood that he had recognized. It was cold, hard, and metal.

"Live swords?" Geilir inquired.

"You won't be able to hurt me with yours, and I'm in more than enough control of my blade to stop myself from mutilating you. You need the experience with a real blade." Arlowe answered back. Geilir nodded, not looking up from his blade. He loved how a well crafted sword felt in his hand. They both stood up, they both took a combat stance. "You've got the first move." Arlowe said. Geilir swung his sword, trusting Arlowe he did not go gently. The swords clanged as they met, Arlowe took a short step back and lunged forward. The swords again clanged against each other. Geilir swung his blade again, but with no avail. In one swift movement, Arlowe dodged it, and Geilir found the flat end of Arlowe's blade against his face. With no words, they both returned to their ready stances. "Your getting better." Arlowe complemented him.

"I know." Was Geilir's response, the intensity not leaving his expression for a second.
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Better I hope
Feedback is appreciated.
The next part is when the whole Umbra thing really begins...

I have to say... I like it!

I did see a few missing words here and there, so please fix those!

Nice man :goodjob: :icecream:

EDIT: I'm abandoning this, I've lost interest, and I want to start another fan fic, I wouldn't be able to write well if I didn't want to.