"FALL IN, 10 MINUTES!”

It seems like training grounds are always the same. The pleasant, moderately voiced wake-up call jolts me out of my sleep and on my feet immediately. Years of experience on the clan ground teaching me that anyone with the authority to shout like that in a training square is not to be disobeyed. I immediately rush to handle my morning business, moving past and around all the other guardsmen-in-training.

Despite my fastest speed, I am disappointed to see that I am not the first one down. In fact, despite only a little more than half the timing having passed, a large majority are already down. It seems that most of them anticipated the timing and were already prepared. That is to be expected, after all, they were part of the training for months now. Within a few minutes, the remainder of the group reached and fully assembled before the commander, who was attired in a similar physical exercise attire as ours, albeit with a red streak down the white cotton shirts and short black pants he wore.

He motioned over for one of the sergeants to inspect us. The sergeant, a heavyset burly man who rippled with muscles strode past the first line of the formed up company of guardsmen, inspecting the bearing and discipline of the assembled recruits. Satisfied, he moves on to his briefing of the day’s activities.

“By this point, most of you have practised your drills and fundamentals, but it's time for actual combat and organization. The squads that were based on bunks until today are going to be shuffled. Leadership will now be elected and fought for. We will now be doing a cadence run to the training hall. UNDERSTOOD?”

“YES, SIR!”

“MOVE!”

It seems like I was being held in my cell not only for administration purposes but also to sync with the arrival of the new portion. Fortunate, I would have hated to have missed the one part I was looking forward to the most. As the group and I jog behind Sergeant Kinny, my mind wanders to how what we would be doing would directly affect my life now that this is my career.

As I try to go over what we might be doing for actual combat, I am mollified by the realisation that I did not know much combat despite my royal upbringing. I had done the core fire related training, but since that was all that was needed for the fire attunements, I had swapped with Darius for most of the combat sessions. Very foolish of me, in hindsight.

Even the training that I had attended were only basic strengthening ones and not related to actual combat. There had been no point to learning a combat style to then have to change it to suit your attunement. Now that there was no attunement to worry about, I could go all-in with learning. After about ten or so minutes of jogging, I see a training hall before me. It was a much smaller affair than the training ground, likely not for the use of more than two companies at a time.

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“Recruits! Go in and split yourselves into 6 rows, facing each other on the mats.”

The square mats were big enough that one could lay down diagonally and fit comfortably. I made my way to one of the empty mats and stood still, awaiting instructions. Opposite me was one of the tougher looking trainees. With his stern mien and knotted muscles, I could tell that he would be quite the challenge. Hopefully, our training would begin with some lighter sparring if any.

“Before we begin, I want to get a general sense of your fighting capability. No maiming, gouging or any other permanent injuries. First to tap or out the mat loses. BEGIN!”

Even before my mind could process just how abruptly our fight had started, my opponent came barreling towards me. He transitioned into a punching stance just before reaching me. With how choreographed the move was I ducked under it without a second thought, with thoughts of getting my fist implanted into his torso. Following the plan that failed, I ducked straight into his knee which he had jabbed toward my face. Knocked onto my back, I lay there with my eyes tearing from the impact my nose suffered. Eventually, I stand and check my nose, relieved that there is no bleeding.

I consider fighting again, but the disparity in skill convinces me otherwise. In the end, I offer my opponent a grudging handshake. It would have been all too easy for him to make use of my disorientation to get me to submit. Might as well accept the loss for what it was. Just as we shake on it, the Sergeant shouts, silencing the clamour of the fighting instantly.

“You two fools there! You think this is some kid spar session for you to shake on such a pathetic fight and move on! Spineless. I said UNTIL SUBMISSION OR OUT OF THE RING! Two of you, drop and 50 and run around the hall until I tell you to stop! Rest of you, don’t you DARE let me catch you giving up or giving your opponent a chance. GOT IT?”

As my ears rang from the shouting and the thunderous chorus of “Yes, Sir!”s I slowly realised the implications of what he said. As the horror of what was to come widened my I look at my opponent, feeling bad that he got punished for his graciousness. The look I saw in his eyes told me I might be in for quite the punishment if we were to fight again.

I was annoyed. The push-ups were easy enough, and even the embarrassment had disappeared after the 5th round. But what was getting under my skin was how the instructor had started to teach the rest of the class without letting us stop. I do my best to catch glimpses through the huddle around him and make out some sort of combat basic tutorial. I know how bad I am at fighting, and how badly I want to improve. My head pounds from the exertion and stress at the thought of what he might do if I interrupt him to remind him of our existence.

Fortunately, he saves me the trouble and calls out to us.

“HEY, you two! The dumb guy and the weak guy! I’ll give you one more chance to fight, and if I don’t like it I will make you run till tomorrow. Got that?”

Before the sergeant, 4 mats had been combined into a large central mat, and the Sergeant had been going through different combat motions with the rest of the group. The moment I entered the huddle, the Sergeant boomed

“We take a break now. Now we see if the two worms have a spine now. Two of you, in the ring NOW!”.

The crowd clears a path for me, which I reluctantly take. As I feel the mocking glances directed at me, I feel the same shame I had not too long ago when I had tested as unattuned. The same feeling of helplessness and anger began to course through me. As it did, the haze and lethargy that had begun to set in cleared, and a sharp clarity entered my mind.

He wanted a good fight, did he not? I would give him that. To think I had accepted going down quietly, spinelessly? What would Darius think if he saw me like this? What happened to what I had promised him when I was locked up in my cell?

I looked up, watching my opponent. We were both on opposite sides of the mat. A quick replay of the earlier fight ran through my mind. I should have done that when I was running, but now is not the time for regret. I decided to focus on how he started the fight. The way he had feinted, the way had charged initially.

At the very least, I admit that I underestimated him at the start, how else could that punch be so easy for the unprepared me to have dodged? It seemed to me that to assume that every move on an opponents part had meaning would always be wise. Even as I stepped up to the mat and signal my readiness, I was still thinking. I had inklings of a plan. Even if I lost, I would give my opponent the fight I had denied him.