Training With Trevor
Amelia's POV
"Fight!" Gerald shouted, his voice a roar of encouragement, his words a battle cry, a gauntlet thrown down to challenge the warriors to their very core.
My sword clashed with my opponent's, the clang of metal a dissonant symphony, as I thrust and parried, my movements fluid, precise, the dance of death unfolding before my eyes.
The other warriors watched, their eyes alight with admiration, with respect, as you fought with a skill, a prowess, that marked me as a master of the blade.
"Trevor is really good!" one warrior shouted, his voice echoing across the training field, a rallying cry to the others who watched.
"He's the best warrior!" another added, his voice ringing with a mixture of awe and respect.
My opponent, his face red with exertion, his breath coming in ragged gasps, met my gaze, his eyes filled with a fierce determination, a desire to defeat me, to prove his worth.
