I trained hard every day. The routine I fell into was getting up, watching the soldiers and practicing the moves in my mind. Later when I tried these moves, I usually fell, or did a simpler version of them. After that came my training. And then, cleaning the swords.
I was taught many things, ranging from how to actually hold the weapon, to making it move in a fluid motion.
Master Cyril, as I found out using the term "dude" wasn't proper and got a whack on the head for, wasn't always patient. He would yell and hit me; not to hurt but to get my attention. But that never stopped the ringing in my ears after every lesson. He never gave up on me, and I learned a great deal.
We trained for many days; so many, that I forgot the number. I was a good swordsman; I just had to work on my defensing.
Today was another hard session.
He flew at me with a flurry of strikes, I kept up, but only just. Sweat poured from my head and ran down my back.
Fey never got tired which I learned the hard way, and I wasn't fully fey. I wished I could have traded my pointy ears for the ability to have everlasting stamina.
"Keep up! Do not let me get into your defenses and into the vital organ area! You puny humans have no endurance and thus will be beaten in battle easily." Cyril barked.
At this point, I would be beaten. Which is what exactly happened, and my sword was suddenly on the ground, 10 feet away.
He snorted, "Why do I even bother? My worst soldier could beat you in battle." I lowered my gaze to the ground, feeling ashamed. "Blindfolded."
A blush crept up on my cheeks, and I wanted to throw my sword down for good. But I knew I couldn't do that. I had to get out of the Winter Court if it was the last thing I would do.
"Forgive me Master Cyril-"
"Why?!" He whirled on me, interrupting my apology. "I give up my time and effort, and you can't even do well enough to beat me when I'm going my easiest on you!"
My temper flared, and I shouted, "I do my best! It's hard when the entire kingdom is against you! I'm only half fey. My other half is human." I pause. "And don't talk about humans like they're a piece of crap. They're not! What am I saying? We're not! We are the ones that created you!" I stop, panting.
But Master Cyril wasn't looking at my face. He was looking at my hands, clenched tightly at my sides.
I looked down. My hands….they were shooting fire! I gave a yelp, and tumbled back.
"Shhhh!" Cyril ran over, frantic. "No one must know about this!"
"And…what exactly is this?" I said weakly. My hands had gone back to normal, and I flexed them, weary.
"You. You have the gift of fire."
I know you all asked for longer chapters, but i think this is how i will be doing it. Since i will most likely be updating every day.
Comments, questions, concerns, where to buy fruit to throw at me? Leave 'em in the review page. I really appreciated yor comments last time, thanks!
Libster Out.