As he held the sword, he was keenly aware of everything, its weight, balance, position, everything. He had tried to learn to use one by watching others – the sword was the most powerful melee weapon – but his attempts were always clunky. Zash lightly swung the sword to test it. As though it were instinct, he perfectly controlled its trajectory, and sensed it slicing through the air. It was as though it was an extension of his arm, perfectly maneuvered and comfortable.

Zash left the weapons rack in search of a good place to practice, and within a few moments, he found a secluded corner with an abundance of space. As he took up a stance, he realized something important: he had no clue how to fight with a sword. It was as though his body was prepared, but mentally, he had no clue where to begin. Sighing with disappointment, he began searching for some tips online. He grew more and more frustrated as he saw the plethora of click-bait titles promising expertise but delivering no useful strategies. He pondered where he could gain knowledge. It hit him like lightning. The library! He remembered looking over the map, and the library had been tucked away in an old building. He replaced the sword, vowing to come back for it soon, and ran out the door and to the library on base.

As expected, it was an older library and none of the other recruits were there. An old man with a bent back and a kindly smile welcomed Zash and pointed him towards the sword manuals. After barely a minute, he came across Sword Fighting: An Introduction by Robert Dalton. Perfect! As he first skimmed the table of contents, he realized he had hit the gold mine. Everything was included in this book! Not only did it show several forms to practice, it also explained when to use them! When he flipped to the first form, he was shocked at the contents.

“Mastering Sword Fighting is not an intellectual process. In reality, it is a three-tiered Art. It does not begin and end with a textbook, rather, it involves understanding the sword, the ability to know precisely where it is at all times, a strong knowledge base, and the experience to adapt those two to any new circumstance. A swordsman must be firm in his actions yet flow like water. Only after combining the understanding of his blade, the knowledge to use it, and the experience to guide can a swordsman master the Art of the Sword.”

He began to worry about whether he would ever reach that level, but determined to do his very best. Then, he saw the first form of the book. It was almost incomprehensible! A pile of words surrounded a group of figures. He spent nearly an hour trying to make sense of it all. No wonder nobody else visited the library; it was useless if it couldn’t be interpreted! Another fifteen minutes past, and Zash was almost ready to leave and make something up on his own, when the old man shuffled up and asked, “Can I do anything for you?”

Zash, exhausted and frustrated, sunk his head in defeat and asked, “You don’t happen to understand this, do you?”

The man’s eyes twinkled, and he replied, “Come over to my desk. We can talk there. My back hasn’t been that good since my hunter days.”

Zash was awestruck. Who would have thought that the old man who looked like he was cheating death would have known what those symbols meant? Yet, as soon as he explained them, they made sense. It was all there!

“Go on now, try it out,” he encouraged.

Zash jumped to his feet, grabbed the closest thing he could find to a sword, and imitated the markings in the book. He had just mastered the first form! As he turned back to the book, he noticed the old man’s eyes intently studying him. Turning the page, he studied the second form. With an exclamation, he jumped up and flawlessly performed the technique. Surely, this was the power of his ability! He could understand and perform the form as easily as though he had practiced it for years. This was the understanding of the sword that the book had mentioned. He realized that it not only assisted him in performing the techniques but also in learning them. With this newfound realization, he flung himself into a cycle of reading and practicing. He only noticed it was growing dark when the old man tapped him and said, “You have to get back, don’t you?”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Zash, surprised, began to leave and thank the man, who interrupted and asked, “Aren’t you going to take the book?”

Zash replied, “I’d love to, but I thought there was a policy against borrowing the books.”

With a laugh, the librarian responded, “I don’t think anyone else will borrow it,” and motioned to the empty building, “and in your case, I’m willing to make an exception.”

Thanking him profusely, Zash left and ran back to the dorms. He awoke early the next morning to finish the book. The day dragged on, but finally, it was individual practice time again. He began to head towards the library when his path was blocked.

Nathan swaggered up to him and demanded, “Where do you think you’re going? I’m thirsty. Get me a drink.”

Zash remembered all the times this had happened before. He remembered the humiliation, the fear, the beatings when he refused. Then, he remembered Timothy’s comment, “When he pushes you, push back.” It was as good a time as any to restore his honor. “No, get it yourself.”

A flicker of annoyance crossed Nathan’s face, “You haven’t forgotten your superior, have you? Go. Get. Me. A. Drink.”

“No.”

Nathan lunged at him, but Zash was ready. He slipped to the side and thrust his fist into Nathan’s gut. Nathan, wheezing from the blow, swung a controlled but powerful blow at Zash’s head. Zash blocked, when all of the sudden, he couldn’t move. It wasn’t just him, Nathan had frozen too. One of the instructors had seen the fight, and used their magic to bind them both.

The instructor boomed out, “We have a rule against brawls. I could expel you both, but for today, I’ll let you work it out with a duel. Right here and now.”

Nathan and Zash shuddered at the thought of expulsion. “I’ll duel,” they said in unison.

“Then, get your weapons and be back here in thirty seconds.”

Zash ran towards the weapons rack and grabbed a sword without a second thought. This one was heavier, less balanced. Still, it was a sword, and that was the important thing. Nathan hadn’t moved an inch. But, the instructor didn’t look flustered, so Zash readied to fight. Then Nathan removed a sword from the scabbard on his hip.

“Begin!”

Zash faced Nathan, and they began circling one another. It was as two lions prowling around, looking for an opening. Within the blink of an eye, Nathan struck. However, Zash was prepared. He lifted his sword to deflect it, and it passed an inch away from his arm. No need to deflect it a foot when an inch was enough. Plus, it gave him room to counter. The opening was as clear as day. Even though this was his first time fighting with a sword, Zash knew to press the attack, so he used the third form from the book. It was a textbook block and counter situation, but, though the execution was perfect, Nathan had time to parry and retreat to safety. They began circling again. Zash lunged in with form one, and Nathan again barely had time to react. But, he still managed to counter, leaving Zash to block and retreat. He racked his brains as to why that didn’t work. It didn’t make sense; it was the perfect form to use! Then he recalled the introductory lines. It was the best of the forms Zash had learned, but it wasn’t the form that determined success. It was the mixing of techniques and forms to perfectly match the situation. Actually, he realized, the forms were a loose guide! They were intended to teach possible flows of the sword rather than a fool-proof method for success!

With this in mind, he pressed the attack. His breathing, formerly heavy and ragged, became smooth and in time with his sword motions. He became utterly focused on the fight. All else faded and blurred. It was just him and Nathan. Within a minute, Zash successfully disarmed Nathan, who fell backwards. Sword to his neck, Nathan finally yielded. The instructor congratulated Zash, and Zash offered his hand to Nathan. Nathan hesitated briefly, then accepted the help. Although the two wouldn’t be friends, Zash had at least earned Nathan’s respect.

As Zash continued to the library, he realized that the man had been waiting for him outside. Doubtless, he had seen everything. However, it was his smile that betrayed his pride in his pupil.