the thunderstruck

[WP] You are the weakest swordsman at the academy. One day your instructor pulls you aside and brings you an object wrapped in cloth. Inside is a small twig. "Some people were never meant to wield a sword. Centuries ago, these 'wands' held great power. Maybe you can make this one work."

*****

In the light of noon, Gish’s sword fell to the youngest student at the academy. The two shook hands and Gish went to hide in the shade of an oak tree. The tree was fully grown, it provided him with not only shade, but it made him feel a little happier. He knew it was weird for a tree to make him feel happy, but it did.

After every loss, which was often, Gish went to the tree. He put his head between his knees. He felt the coolness of the shade and he felt himself perk up a bit. He heard someone coughing next to him. When he looked up, he saw his instructor, Master Atwood.

“Gish,” Master Atwood said. “Roman is quite skilled, but he’s still a child.”

“I’m well aware, Master Atwood. It was an unacceptable loss.” Gish said.

There was a silence and the two let it stew a bit. Gish felt no need to continue the conversation since it could only lead to his humiliation. Master Atwood was holding a long piece of cloth, it was wrapped the same way newborn babies were.

“Some were never meant to wield a sword, Gish. I’ve seen how you look to this tree for support and I thought that this might be more useful to you than it is to the academy.” Master Atwood said.

He handed Gish the wrapped cloth.

Gish first stared at the twig. He picked it up, its surprising weight made it fun to twirl around.

“And what am I supposed to do with this?” Gish asked.

“I believe it’s called a ‘wand’. They held great power centuries ago.” Master Atwood said.

“What kind of power?” Gish asked.

Master Atwood shrugged.

“We have many of these wands in our vaults, but they serve us no purpose. No fire can burn them, no swords can cut them. We thought of creating armor out of these twigs, but they cannot be manipulated.” the master said.

“You have a connection to nature, the other masters agree.” Atwood said.

“Well, it’s clear that I don’t have a connection to the sword.” Gish replied.

The master laughed a little and gave Gish a pat on the back.

“You have a strong heart, perhaps you’ll find a way to use this wand.” Atwood said.

Gish sat back down under the tree and its shade. He wasn’t sure if he could feel a power resonating from the twig. He tried breaking it in half, throwing it at the oak tree, burning it, cutting it with his sword.

Master Atwood was right. This twig is unbreakable, Gish thought.

When Gish went to sleep that night, he dreamed of a dim forest. The forest was thick with trees and in it there were no animals, there were no flowers. There were only trees, it was so dense that no sunlight broke through the ground. He walked around the forest, not knowing what he was looking for. After walking for what seemed like hours, he saw it. He saw the very oak tree that he sat under day after day, loss after loss.

When he got close to the tree, a bright light flashed before him. He heard the crack of thunder and he was pushed back from the tree. His surroundings were still normal, no signs of anything burning, no bright lights, no lightning.

He walked towards the tree again and was met with another bright flash of light and an explosion. It burned through his clothes and he felt winded. He got up and again walked towards the tree and again he was burned by the lightning.

He walked again, more lightning.

Gish was sure that this was a dream and though the pain felt real, he knew he could not be harmed. He knew he had to keep walking, he had to get to the tree.

“Why is he doing this?” a voice asked.

“It’s all he knows.” another voice replied.

Gish refused to stop. He kept walking towards the tree.

"Is he the one?” the voice asked.

The two watched Gish get sent back by the lightning over and over, the pain was real. It showed on Gish’s face, and his body, that the pain was real.

“I’m afraid so.” the other voice replied.

“End it then.”

The next time Gish walked towards the tree, the lightning was fifty times as powerful. He woke up, a pool of sweat, his adrenaline running. And though it was the middle of the night, Gish grabbed the twig off his night stand and ran straight to the tree.

He was running full speed towards the tree when Gish saw the lights of two fireflies, lightning bugs. One was orange, the other green.

“Stop, please for god’s sake stop.” the green firefly said.

“What are you?” Gish asked.

“We’re faeries.” the green firefly said, it buzzed quietly. Gish thought their lights were a beautiful complement to the moonlight.

“Do you have your wand?” the orange firefly asked.

Gish pulled out the twig from his back pocket to show to the lights.

“Point it towards the sky and continue towards the tree.” the green firefly said.

Gish didn’t really know what was going on, but he held the twig upwards and ran, not walked, to the tree.

As he neared the tree, a bright light lit up the academy. The lightning cracked and every student, every instructor heard the explosion. Gish stood still, the twig acting as a lightning rod. It absorbed all of the sky’s power and Gish slowly stepped towards the tree. He felt the lightning draining his energy and he continued forward.

Step by step until he made it under the tree. He was able to touch the tree, the lightning stopped and he collapsed.

“What shall his name be?” one of the fireflies asked.

“Gish, The Thunderstruck.” the other replied.