Close to death...
Three years have passed and Chip has become known across the land as the one swordsman to never cross, the one to never oppose. As his name and skills were passed through cities, towns, and dwellings of people, the name was soon cooling off and slowing down as all other names of people never seen. After a few months people would have to muse to remember the name of Chip as a warrior than his prince status. But to others, such as the warriors and all master of arms, his name was the one that was looked for. Chip is now next in line to Colin's own swordsmanship, speed and strength. Colin is proud of his teachings and how well Chip's progress was doing. Then again, Colin is also worried about Chip. Chip nearly sent Colin to his Grave.
They were in training at the left wing of the castle, the room was one of the biggest, the room was for Colin, his very own sparing room. It was one of the rooms that was reinforced with an extra three layers of concrete, the room possessed small windows, two on the eastern wall for the gold of the morning sun to bathe the room, and one small window to the northern wall, the window was placed there under Colin's choice, he wanted it so he could gaze over the forest his ancestors and Dalephian people live. The room itself was bare of decoration and it was very dark; he was one of the only people that cared not for the way his dwelling looked. The room was also fitted with a turret on the southern wall for Colin's own look out post; he could nearly see all from his turret catching the sight of an assassin before a human could think.
Colin stood up straight, he was chest bare; of all the battles he was apart he never received a scar, the Dalephians can never receive a scar, it is apart of their power, the flesh will split but within moments it will seal. He wore his cream colour loose joggers that gleamed as satin and dark leather boots. He donned his crimson head band, the twin tail touching the lower of his back, his reddish brown hair touching his shoulders, curling at the tips. His blond eyebrows angled with the look of ire, another feature of the Dalephians, but these features are very rare, only a Dalephian with blood of the Longevitie can possess. The Longevitie's are Dalephians that live a hundred times longer than a peasant Dalephian, his life expectancy is six thousand years. Only one kind of species of Dalephian can produce a Longevitie, they are the Dalephian Elders.
Colin stared hard at Chip with his piercing sapphire eyes. Besides his brow his face was expressionless. He held a broad sword in his right hand, one that was old and put together carelessly; the blade was rusty with age and dull, the hilt made of hardened leather. Colin's stance was popular and nearly every warrior with a blade as their primary weapon knew the stance and feared it. For his stance was powerful yet lacked defence. His body from head to toe was free to attack. Colin's stance was made for the swift, he owned all the attributes to make the stance his.