Alasdair was entering the arena of the camp. He thought that it was time to learn how to use the sword his father had given him. Again he looked at the golden blade. He had not tried it out before. Alasdair had no idea why it was like that. But now it was really time, especially because he was the son of war. He smiled at his battle raven who was flying above him. Every time Alasdair did some kind of training it was with him. Alasdair had also started to train with his raven. They were a perfect team, and he could not imagine that they will ever part. Suddenly he thought that his raven looked similar to those on his leather armour, which he was wearing right now.
Then Alasdair decided to look around, finding somebody who would train with him. Even if it was his first lesson in sword fighting, he did not thought that it would be too difficult for him. Who should learn better than a child of war how to fight in an battle? Not many people were in the arena at that time. Somehow he wondered where everybody was. But he thought some of them just did not want to train right now. It was maybe a little bit too early for all of them.