“How is he?” Leeuw’s deep voice rang out from the massive iron throne he sat on top of. William seemed shocked,

“Are you actually worried about him?”

“I’m worried about the delay. I’m worried about his nature. I am worried, William. Always.” Leeuw laughed. It didn’t reach his eyes, they sat marred by a dark black shadow that played beneath them. Sunken into a swamp of worry, sunken into the weight of years and years of conflict.

Leeuw’s fingers tapped along the side of his throne. Their constant thrumming was the one thing that never changed, from back when the two of them were kids to now. Every time his lord fell into thought he would fidget. William was assigned to Leeuw when he was very young, before he was the crown prince even - back then he was only second in line. William remembered how the royal youth used to fidget at his desk during lessons and tests. How he used to play with the servants, how he used to dream of a better future and nation. He saw that young boy in his friend even now, his youthful hope starving within the massive frame of the man he’d become. Leeuw’s voice pulled William from his thoughts,

“How was he when he awakened?”

“The usual… or no. He was more like a soldier than I expected. He reacted like someone who had suffered before awakening-”

“Good. You can use that. You know how tender he is now, you’ve dealt with that before.” Leeuw’s voice drawled, his eyes bored into William, knowing and demanding. The weight of his words and gaze were the weight of a nation. Every soldier saves hundreds, and David could save more, thought William. He knew the stakes, distasteful as it was,

“I think he can be used. This hero, David, he… he does mean well. If you show him what he’s fighting for, and what he’s fighting against. Give him motivation and train him well, he’ll fight when we need him to.” Leeuw was quiet, thinking, his fingers the only noise in the room. A predatory grin slowly spread across his face,

“Oh, we'll give him the motivation he needs. He’ll see everything he wants to.”

David woke up to the chirping of birds. That’s peaceful, like the cottage back home. Oh god, mom made those awful chalky banana pancakes a few summers ago - how do you screw up banana pancakes? He felt groggy, his head was full of fog, his memories disorganized and unreal, there was this distant sense of dread hanging over him, like he had made a mistake the night before. Almost like being hungover, huh. He remembered being sixteen and sneaking a bottle out of his mom’s liquor cabinet, he had been so proud when he showed his friends at the party. He was going to be cool. Or so he thought, instead he ended up vomiting on the bushes and needing to be picked up by his mom. Oh god, mom.... NO. Not now. He sat up abruptly.

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“Fuck.” His hands reached up to his head and gripped his hair tight, pulling at the skin of his skelp.

“FUCK!” He said it a little louder, shouted really and then heard a knock at the door.

“Is everything ok sir?” It was an unfamiliar voice, female. Damn it. David blushed, then shouted out,

“Yeah, I’m ok, sorry.” He didn’t hear a response. He left the bed and started to dress himself, alone with his thoughts. Alone with the knowledge that he wasn’t really alone. He couldn’t help but stare at the door the whole time.

The combat training field was filled up with people this time. Almost like they knew that last time I wouldn’t perform. David looked out into the field, this was the most people he’d seen since he’d come to this world. There were a variety of women in dresses alongside men in frilly outfits that screamed of nobility. It was almost like a classic medieval dueling audience from a movie. Still it was interesting. A sea of men and women dressed so different from what he knew, they seemed anachronistic to him, I guess I’m the man out of time though. Strange. He smiled.

“I assume that smile means you're ready? I’ll start gently, I wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed in front of these nice people after all!” William winked at him and then grinned, before lunging forward and shouting,

“Feel your magic!” David did. He had felt it like a constant companion from the moment he was in the field. It burned inside of him like a furnace, growing and tempering his body. He felt as if he was fitter, stronger, as if the air itself was filling his muscles with more energy.

The blade coming towards him was fast, but it barely seemed it. He could still respond. He pushed all the force of that furnace and flicked his blade toward William’s. The two wooden weapons crashed into each other and WIlliam jumped backwards. His eyes snapped wide, he seemed shocked to be pushed so hard, but only briefly before he shouted out,

“So you’re learning, good!”

David let the magic within him pool, its flame growing hotter, growing into a pillar of heat below his skin, filling him and his blade before he lunged forward. The ground beneath his feet compacted in a cloud of dirt as he threw himself, he swung with a weight he never thought possible, his wooden blade narrowly missed William and instead moved through dirt like butter. It sounded awful, like grinding stone and creaking wood.

“Nice try, but you need control!” William’s face was filled by a grin, the mustache above his lips hung over his pearly white teeth.

The blade William was holding snapped forward, the wood instantly filling David’s vision. I didn’t even see him move! David swung up to push the blade back again before realizing William hadn’t really moved. His hand had, his weapon had, but he remained firmly planted where he had started. When he did step forward David was left wide open, his sword stuck up in the sky, having swung wildly - fiercely, at nothing. William’s hand landed on his chest and he, ever so gently, pushed him down. As David hit the dirt he felt a wooden point rest on his neck and heard William say,

“Next time, you’ll last twice as long.” Before he saw the old man thrust his fist into the air to the wild cheering of the crowd.