It reminded him of the thin needle which the village healers use for their treatment. They produced a pain that traveled to every part of his body and was sure to leave bruises.
But despite the odds, a little part of him was excited. Jinta, the master mage, always tell tales of how he had lost the softness of his palms to climbing up a mountain. It was an exaggeration Bola knew, but he was pleased to be passing through the pain.
This would serve as his own battle scar. After today, he would tell his own adventure stories.
It would save him the stress of paying unending attention to Jinta, who always ranted like a drum about the war of the Kingdom and the elves.
