The morning sun bathed the training field in golden light as Amy, Ray, Rhyuji, and Hagon gathered. With their mentors gone, it was up to them to train and grow stronger. The usual banter between Amy and Rhyuji was absent as they began their exercises, but Amy, as always, wore her bright, energetic smile.
"Alright, everyone, let's get started! No slacking off just because the mentors aren't here!" Amy chirped, pulling out a small wooden sword from her storage box.
Her energy was infectious, as always, and even Ray, who was focused and serious most of the time, found himself smiling at her enthusiasm.
Rhyuji rolled his eyes, but there was a grin on his face. "Yeah, yeah. Let's see if you can keep up."
Amy playfully stuck out her tongue, ready to begin. As she swung her sword with fluid motions, the others marveled at her speed and precision. But as the training progressed, Ray noticed something different about her. Today, Amy seemed more focused, almost driven, and while her smile remained, there was a deep intensity in her eyes.
Hagon, shy and quiet as always, tried his best to keep up with the group. His large form moved with surprising grace, but it was clear that his mind was elsewhere. Amy, noticing Hagon's hesitation, ran up to him and gave him a light punch on the arm.
"Come on, big guy! You've got this! Just keep moving, and remember, don't think about the weight of your body, think about the strength in your heart!" she encouraged, flashing her usual wide smile.
Hagon chuckled nervously. "Y-yeah, I'll try."
Ray watched Amy from the sidelines, his brow furrowing. Amy was always full of life, but today, there was something almost melancholic beneath her usual cheerfulness. As they continued to train, Amy began using various weapons from her storage box—daggers, spears, shields, each one wielded with impressive skill. But it wasn't until she pulled out her whip that Ray saw a flicker of something different in her.
The whip was long, black, and made of a durable, flexible material. It was well-worn, as if it had seen countless battles. Amy's expression softened as she looked at it, her fingers tracing the leather. Ray had seen her use it many times before, but today, something about the way she held it seemed... personal.
As the group trained, memories began to flood Amy's mind.
---
**Years ago, in a small village...**
A young Amy, no older than six or seven, sat alone in the middle of a field. Her wooden sword was clutched tightly in her small hands, her face scrunched in concentration as she swung it at invisible enemies. Her movements were clumsy, but she practiced every day, hoping to be strong enough to become an adventurer like the ones she heard stories about.
But the other children in the village never came near her. They found her too exhausting to be around. If you talked to Amy, it was like you were trapped in an endless conversation, her energy never wavering, her words spilling out faster than anyone could follow. As a result, she was often left alone.
Still, she never let it show. Her mother had always told her, "Amy, no matter what, never let sadness take over. Keep smiling. There's strength in joy."
Her mother had passed away not long after, and Amy had clung to those words ever since.
She swung her little sword again, her arms growing tired, but she didn't stop. She wanted to be strong—strong enough to fight monsters, to protect people, to travel the world and see all the places her mother had talked about.
One day, while practicing, her father came to check on her. His face broke into a proud smile when he saw what she was doing.
"Look at you, Amy," he said, kneeling down beside her. "You're already learning how to craft weapons and swing them like a real adventurer. I'm so proud of you."
His words filled Amy with warmth, and she beamed up at him. From that day forward, she began crafting more weapons—small swords, daggers, even a shield. Her hands were tiny, but they worked with precision and care, and each time she crafted something new, her father was there to support her.
But it wasn't until she met the adventurer with the whip that her life truly changed.
---
**Back in the present...**
Amy cracked the whip against the ground, the sharp sound echoing through the training field. Rhyuji raised an eyebrow. "You never really use that in practice much, Amy."
She smiled at him, though her eyes held a trace of something deeper. "I know. But today feels like a good day to train with it."
Ray stepped closer, his curiosity piqued. "Why the whip? Out of all the weapons you could use, you seem... connected to that one."
Amy paused, her fingers gripping the handle tightly. "It's... a long story. But this whip—" she held it up, letting the sunlight glint off its surface, "—belonged to the first real friend I ever had."
The group fell silent. Even Hagon, usually shy and quiet, looked over with a concerned expression.
Amy took a deep breath, her usual cheerfulness dimming just a little as she began to speak. "When I was a kid, I was always alone. I guess I just overwhelmed people. No one wanted to play with me because I never stopped talking, never stopped moving. I thought... maybe I was just too much for them."
Ray and Rhyuji exchanged a glance, neither of them knowing what to say.
"But then, one day, I met her." Amy's eyes softened, a small, wistful smile forming on her lips. "She was an adventurer. She had this whip that could do incredible things. It wasn't just a weapon—it was an art. She showed me techniques I'd never even imagined. And for the first time, someone didn't find me annoying. She... she liked me."
Amy's voice cracked slightly, but she quickly cleared her throat and smiled again, though this time it didn't quite reach her eyes. "We trained together. She taught me everything she knew about the whip, and I tried so hard to be just as good as her. But then, one day, she didn't come back from a mission. Her comrades told me she was gone... just like that."
The group was quiet, the weight of Amy's story settling over them.
"I cried that day," Amy admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was the second time I'd ever cried. The first was when my mom died. I didn't want to be sad anymore, but losing her... it broke something in me."
Ray stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Amy."
She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, but her smile never faltered. "It's okay. I took her whip, and I promised I'd get stronger—strong enough to protect the people I care about. I won't let anyone else die because I wasn't strong enough. That's why I fight."
The group stood in silence, each of them understanding the depth of Amy's resolve in a way they hadn't before.
Hagon, his large frame casting a shadow over them, spoke softly. "You're strong, Amy. Stronger than anyone I know."
Amy beamed up at him, her usual energy returning. "Thanks, Hagon! But let's not get all sappy, okay? We still have training to do!"
With that, she cracked the whip again, her movements fluid and precise. But now, Ray, Rhyuji, and Hagon saw her in a new light. Amy's strength wasn't just in her weapons or her speed—it was in her heart, in her unbreakable spirit.
As they resumed their training, Ray couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. Amy had suffered losses, just like him, just like Rhyuji, just like all of them. But despite everything, she kept moving forward, smiling through the pain.
And that, Ray realized, was what made Amy truly remarkable.