"Oui! Have mercy, mercy!"

In a training hall located in the barracks next to Castle Acorn, a young coyote and soldier was busy practicing his craft with another older coyote, determined to prove that he had what it took to join the Royal Guard.

Or at least that's what he thought he was doing.

In reality, he was desperately blocking every one of his opponent's blows, meeting his training sword with his own as haphazardly as possible. He was managing to defend himself, but rather than accomplishing this like a pro, he was instead handling this like a nervous scaredy cat desperate to prove he he could hold his own despite wanting to be anywhere but here.

"Mercy?!" shouted the superior swordsman in a somewhat foreign accent as he continued, who in sharp contrast to the other showed not the slightest trace of fear. "Is that what you are expecting from your enemies? Mercy?! Because rest assured, they are not going to give it!"

"Oui Father," said the younger coyote in the same accent, "I understand, but do you still think you could, shall we say, ease things up a bit?"

"Ease things up?!" His father was practically furious as he began savaging Antoine's practice blade, assaulting and battering it until at last, he broke it in two. This same blow promptly knocked Antione straight to the floor whereupon he ironically found himself at the mercy of his father, pointing his practice blade right at his throat.

"Understand this, Antoine," he began to say in no uncertain times. "If you wish to protect this kingdom, your princess, your liege, you need to know the reality of things. And the reality is that in battle, there is no mercy. If you show them even the slightest trace of weakness or remorse, then you are dead. They will not 'ease up'. They will not back off. They will relentlessly push forward until they achieve their goal, and the only way to prevent that may be putting your hand to your hilt and running them through the gullet."

"But," pleaded Antoine, "what if I don't want to run them through the gullet? Or if I don't want to risk putting in an opportunity to do the gutting?!" He then winced and smiled like a man who knew from the very beginning that he probably shouldn't have said what he just said.

At first, Antoine's father seemed about to erupt like a mighty volcano and take everything around him with it, but he soon managed to calm himself down as he slowly placed his blade back in its' sheathe. He then partly kneeled down and offered Antoine a hand, which he immediately accepted before he found himself unable to come back from a place of no return. He brought Antoine back up and began walking with him over towards a bench, as though they were two strained individuals trying to make amends.

"Son," he began to say. "I know you are scared. Everyone is scared to some extent before they see a taste of real combat."

"Oui," said Antione, as the two began sitting down on the bench. "I know this."

"And yet still you hesitate. Still you hold back and tremble in fear. My son, if there is something troubling you, please tell me. Just what is filling you with such dread?"

"Nothing!" Antoine blurted out the word as though it were instead everything at once. "It is nothing at all! Everything is a-OK hunkey-dorey! Yes sir! Nothing to be concerned about!"

"Antoine," his father growled, "if you are lying to me…"

"AH!" Antoine leapt up off of his seat, only barely managing to stay standing once he was off of the bench. "I confess! I confess!"

"And just what are you confessing to?", asked his father.

Antoine's legs were practically knocking as though he were sure this couldn't possibly end well. "It is everything!", shouted Antoine, throwing up his arms as though he had kept in an entire sea of troubles and, now finally being given proper prompting, was at long last finally letting it all out. "I am afraid of heights, I am afraid of approaching a snarling animal, I am afraid of touching poison ivy, etc etc etc! It truly seems at times there is nothing I am not afraid of in some capacity. And I do not know how to deal with it. I do not know how I am to possibly be brave. How can I possibly be courageous and live up to your reputation when I am so afraid? And that is what makes me afraid most of all."

His father took a good long look at Antoine, almost as if wondering whether or not his son had been swapped with another in the maternity ward, but he soon slowly rose out of his seat and gave Antoine a firm and quite clearly unexpected pat on the shoulder.

"Antoine. Courage is not being unafraid all of the time. In fact, even I am afraid at times."

"Really?" Antoine had almost believed he had found a kindred spirit. "Are you even afraid of your own shadow?"

"Um, no," said Antoine's father, "not exactly." Antoine's spirits sank, his hopes of finding someone to relate to and in his own father no less dashed. "But it is true that everyone is afraid of something, and has something that they need to overcome. For many people, this could be a struggle of infinite magnitude. But you, Antoine. You are not most people.

"I am not?", asked Antoine, looking up at his Father with just the slightest shred of hope.

"No," said his father, proud as could be. "You are a Coolette. As such, I am completely confident that you can find it in yourself to overcome your fears and become one of the greatest knights this Kingdom has ever seen."

"Do you truly believe so?", asked Antoine, starry-eyed.

"Must you even ask?", he said.

As Antoine hugged his papa and as father and son shared a bonding moment for the ages, Sally entered the training hall with grit and determination. Which was somewhat weakened when she saw the man she was about to ask to possibly put his just burgeoning career in jeopardy having a rather private moment. Still, she had work to do. "Uh, General Coolete?"

Antoine's father didn't seem to notice Sally at first, but his large tattered ears soon picked up her dulcet tones, and he immediately pushed away his son and folded his arms like a so called tough guy determined to keep his image intact. "Uh, ahem, yes Princess? Is there something you wish to speak to me about?"

"Not exactly," said Sally. "I'd actually like to talk to Antione if that's all right."

"Oui?!" Antoine was more than a tad alarmed that the Princess wanted to actually speak to him of her own accord. The two had never been on bad terms certainly, but they had so far only seemed to know each other by passing one another on his way to training every day, or whenever his and her parents used to set up play dates for one another when they were kids. But here and now, he truly had no idea why she would want to speak to him of all people.

"You wish to speak to my Antoine?", said Senior Coolete. He stroked his long white beard, smirking as though he were beginning to plot something most devious. "Oh ho. Could it be that all of those play dates from when you two were still in diapers are finally paying off?"

It took a moment for either Antoine or Sally to catch on, but catch on they did. "NO!" and "It's not like that!", and "We're just friends!" and the like were tossed and thrown around so much that one would almost swear they were playing football, and all Senior Coolete could do was chuckle in amusement and being to stride away as though his work was done. "So you say. Well, it is not my place to interfere in such matters. I shall be seeing you at supper, Antoine. In the meantime, Sally, please, you and Antoine enjoy your 'talk'. Oh, the lengths children will go to these days…" And as he closed the door to the hall behind him and finally passed out of sight, all Sally and Antoine could do was wonder how such a man as him could possibly have become the General of the kingdom's entire military force.

"So," said Sally. "Your father seems, shall we say, eccentric, doesn't he?"

"Ah," said Antoine, scratching the back of his neck. "You could say that. He is not normally this way, but every now and then, he has his moments. Uh, you said that you want to speak to me?"

"Oh, yes. There's actually something important I need to talk with you about?"

"Important?" Antoine pointed towards himself as though he were still somewhat in disbelief at the very notion that the Princess would need to talk to him about anything. "Me?"

"Yes, you. The truth is, this could get a bit dangerous."

"Dangerous?!" Antoine suddenly began wringing his hand in terror, though he quickly hid them behind his back in the hopes that the Princess hadn't noticed. "Ahem, if you do not mind me asking, how dangerous?"

"Look, Antoine. I know that you have certain reservations about this sort of thing. Which, for someone in your profession, is honestly a bit hypocritical if you don't mind me asking…"

"I DO MIND!" shouted Antoine, pouting like a cross child.

"…but", said Sally, not noticing Antoine's impromptu remark in the slightest, "you're the only person I could ask who would not only possibly agree to this, but who I can trust."

Antoine was taken aback. "Come again?"

"You heard me. I know we don't know each other that well, but I do know that in spite of that, you're someone I think I can count on. And in case things get dicey, I'm going to need to need you to back me up. Now, I could just order you as Princess. That is my right. But I'm not telling you as a Princess. I'm asking this as a friend. Can you please help me?"

Antoine wasn't sure what to say. The Princess of all people was asking him to do something that for all he knew might result in her getting reprimanded or him getting ejected from the military, if not worse. By all accounts, it would probably have been best to just politely decline and walk away. No reason to get himself involved and risk personal or even bodily injury. None.

Except there was a reason. And it was standing right in front of him.

He stuttered, unsure if he could get the words out, trying his darnedest to utter them as his legs knocked and his hands quivered until finally, at last, he shouted, "YES!" Sally was of course taken aback by this rather strange behavior on Antoine's part, but like a politician who had just suffered a major self-induced blunder, he took a moment to compose himself, get himself together, and rephrase himself as maturely and confidentially as he possibly could. "Yes. Your Highness. I would be honored to serve you however I could."

Sally then squeed and grasped Antoine in a fierce hug, so fierce that he wasn't sure if he'd still be able to breathe if she kept this up. Not that he'd have to worry. She slowly retracted her hug and, knowing how hard this must have been for him, quietly said, "Thank you, Antoine."

"Not a problem, your highness."

"Just call me Sally. And THAT is an order."

"Very well then, Sally. But I do have one question before we begin."

"Of course."

"Just what exactly are we going to be doing anyway?"