The morning unfolded like any other. I prepared for the day, ate breakfast, attended lessons, and completed my chores. Then, as usual, I went outside to play.
A sudden commotion caught my attention. Following the noise, I discovered Micah engaged in an intense sparring match with another boy, their wooden swords clashing dramatically. Each swing cut through the air, sending shock waves with every impact. It looked... incredible.
I waited until their match concluded and approached Micah. "What are you guys playing?"
He turned, visibly irritated. "This isn't playing, Kai, it's sparring. I'm going to be a knight one day, so I have to be good with a sword."
My eyes sparkled with admiration. "C-can I try?"
Micah gave me a skeptical look. "You want to spar? You're too small and weak. I can't spar with you."
Disappointed, I looked down. "Please, it looked so fun. At least let me try."
A pitying expression crossed his face. He tossed a wooden sword at my feet. "Fine, but I won't go easy on you. Remember, you asked for this."
I gripped the sword, my hands sweating nervously. We faced each other, and in an instant, Micah burst forward with a massive downward swing aimed at my head. I barely managed to block, the clash sending painful reverberations through my hands.
The sparring was brutally one-sided. Micah dodged my wild attacks with ease, striking me down repeatedly. Each time I fell, I struggled to catch my breath.
One of the other boys called out, "That was way too hard, Micah!"
Micah laughed. "He'll be fine. I warned him, the sword isn't for him."
But as they wrote me off, I rose to my feet. "Can we go again, Micah?"
Disbelief crossed his face. "Again? You can barely stand. Go away."
I clutched the sword tightly. "Please, Micah. One more round."
Despite the pain and repeated defeats, something about this was exhilarating. We sparred three more times, each ending in my complete defeat. Bruised and beaten, I lay on the grass.
"Micah, can you help me get better at the sword?" I asked.
"What? You want me to teach you?" he responded, shocked.
I smiled. "Yes. This was the most fun I've had since I got here. I want to get better so our sparring can last longer."
He looked at me like I was crazy and thought for a moment before responding. "Fine, but it won't be easy. Meet me here at the same time every day, and I'll teach you. This isn't playtime, and I'm not messing around. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," I giggled.
That night, my mind raced with thoughts of the sword—how it felt to hold, to swing, the clash of blades. Even in defeat, I loved every moment. I could barely sleep, excitement bubbling inside me.
The next morning, I practically leaped out of bed. As I left my room, I encountered Rowan in the hallway.
"Hey Rowan, good morning," I said.
To my surprise, he looked me directly in the eyes. "Good morning, Kai," he whispered quietly before continuing down the hall.
I smiled, noting his progress.
After breakfast, lessons, and chores, sword lesson time arrived. But Micah had other plans. "What do you think you're doing, Kai?" he asked as I reached for the wooden sword.
"Grabbing the sword," I replied, confused.
"You're not ready," he said seriously. "Your body is too weak. We'll work on that first."
Instead of sword practice, Micah put me through a grueling training circuit. Exhausted, we collapsed on the grass after we finished.
Curious, I asked, "Where did you learn to use the sword, Micah?"
His expression changed. He looked away. "M-my dad taught me. He was an adventurer."
Realizing my mistake, I stammered, "I-I'm so sorry, Micah. I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine," he interrupted. "Let's go eat dinner."
An awkward tension lingered between us.
The following days blended together—eating, playing, learning, training. To some, it might seem a repetitive, boring lifestyle. But to me, it was everything I could hope for.