The doors to the training hall burst open, and a young man came running in, straight to Toris and Ryan.
"Sir! The Lord Commander has summone-d you!" The heaving soldier said.
"Right, Ryan go train with Sir Cliff over there, he will teach you swordsmanship as well as how to use other weapons while you are here. He is one of our best. I'll be back later today!"
Noooo, Come back.
Toris rushed out of the training hall, leaving Ryan to slowly lumber closer and closer to what felt like impending doom. As he walked, Ryan couldn't shake the thought: maybe living in the forest wasn't so bad… If I just walked out of here, would anyone even realise in time to stop him?"
"Move quicker!" shouted the grumpy, balding man, his harsh voice burst Ryan's thoughts like popping a balloon.
Startled, Ryan picked up his pace, but in his haste, he tripped, falling face-first into the floor.
He grunted as face met floor.
Pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, he rubbed his sore nose and winced. The grumpy man's voice echoed in his ears, a stark reminder of his current predicament.
"Get up, you clumsy oaf!" the man barked, his irritation palpable.
Cheeks on fire with embarrassment, Ryan scrambled to his feet, avoiding eye contact as he dusted himself off.
The grumpy man huffed impatiently, waving Ryan over to where the rest of the trainees were gathered. "Come on, we don't have all day," he muttered, his tone brusque.
With a resigned sigh, Ryan went head first into his fate.
The knight training on this side of the hall was a stark contrast to the quiet and calm magic section on the other side.
"Listen up, trainee," barked the grumpy man, his voice cutting through the din of the training hall. "I am Sir Clifford, an Expert Knight in the service of Commander Marcus. It is my duty to whip you sorry lot into shape, and mold you into skilled warriors worthy of serving our hideout."
Ryan swallowed nervously, feeling Sir Clifford's piercing black gaze fixed on him.
"Now, let's get started," Sir Clifford continued, his tone brooking no argument. "We'll begin with a bit of sparring! Grab a practice weapon and pair up with a partner."
Ryan hesitated for a moment before reluctantly stepping forward to retrieve a wooden sword. Glancing at the other trainees, he noted their varying levels of proficiency. The two men oozed confidence, while the woman appeared more reserved.
"Alright, Ryan, you'll be sparring with me first," declared Sir Clifford, striding over with practiced grace. "Let's see what you're made of."
Why! There's four of us here, it's perfect for us to fight each other! Cried Ryan, staring up at the ceiling.
With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Ryan squared off against Sir Clifford, his hands trembling as he gripped the wooden sword. He knew he was in for a challenge, but he was determined to prove himself worthy of being a Hero.
As the training session progressed Ryan… well to put it nicely, Ryan 'struggled' to keep up with Sir Clifford's relentless attacks.
The older knight moved with speed and precision, leaving Ryan feeling clumsy and inept by comparison. Every blow landed with strong force, each leaving a worse bruise than the last.
"At least have the correct stance!" Sir Clifford complained.
Despite his frustrations, Ryan refused to give up. With each strike, he focused on improving his technique.
Which shouldn't have been too difficult, considering he had no technique.
After the severe beating, Sir Clifford said, "Well, you performed pretty terribly! Time for a break," barely breaking a sweat while Ryan struggled to catch his breath.
Psycho, balding, ginger- Ryan had plenty of words he wished he could call Sir Clifford but even if he wanted to receive a beating, he was too tired to even use his vocal muscles, as well as too bruised to move.
As the break in training began, the other three trainees dispersed, each seeking their own space to recuperate. Ryan found himself at a water barrel in the corner of the training hall, taking cup after cup of water, only pausing to look around the room to observe other sparring fighters.
Across the hall, one of the male trainees, a young man with a friendly demeanour caught Ryan's eye. Unlike the others who seemed lost in their own thoughts, he wore a faint smile, as if amused by the earlier mishap.
With a tentative step forward, the young man approached Ryan, his strides were purposeful yet non-threatening. "Hey there," he said, his voice carrying a hint of warmth. "Rough start, huh?"
Ryan managed a weak smile in response, grateful for the unexpected gesture of camaraderie. "Yeah, you could say that," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
The young man chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Don't worry about it too much. Sir Clifford can be a bit… intense, but he means well. We've all been there."
Ryan nodded, feeling a bit of the embarrassment leaving… not much of it though.
"Thanks," he said, offering his hand for a handshake. "I'm Ryan."
The young man—confused, stared at Ryan's hand gesture. "Nice to meet you… Ryan. I'm James," he replied, nodding as to acknowledge his hand gesture. "And over there," he gestured towards the other side of the hall where the female trainee stood, "is Eleanor Gray. She's a bit shy when it comes to physical training, but when it comes to magic training… she can't stop speaking." He sighed. "I'm lucky I can't practice magic."
Ryan followed James's gaze, noting the slim figure of the female trainee who stood alone. Ryan couldn't clearly see what Eleanor looked like from so far away, but he remembered that she had one green and one brown eye, long brown hair, and pale skin.
"Finally, over there is my brother, Jared. He can be a bit cold at times, but he means well."