Hunter’s knuckles were white from his intense grip on his sword as he reared back, charging at his opponent with the intention to strike as swiftly as possible. Hunter was instead greeted with a foot to the chest, the ground to his rear, and another round of aww’s from the onlookers. Hunter stood up quickly, wobbling a bit as he had not yet recovered fully from the blow he had received. Rearing back again to strike at his opponent, Hunter sprinted at full towards his target once more.

“Stop!” the Guard Captain commanded, causing Hunter to trip over his feet during his sprint. “I can’t watch this anymore. Kid, you’re trying too hard. You need to relax a bit. Alright? Stop charging in like a Chalra in heat and keep your sword in front of you for goodness sake.”

 Hunter nodded to the Captain, as he was still trying to catch his breath from his previous charges, and wondered what a Chalra was. Noticing his opponent starting to move from his spot, Hunter readied his sword in front of him keeping it between him and his adversary. Staring into his opponent’s eyes, Hunter tightened his grip on his sword again and leaped at his opponent again hands flailing wildly as he attempted to keep his hands in front of him and to strike his opponent. Another foot greeted Hunter’s chest, causing him to land unceremoniously on the ground once more.

The Captain laughed heartily at Hunter’s display “Kid, you followed some of my advice, I suppose, but you still need to loosen up, your hands are whiter than a Rhaleon on a winter’s day. Relax your shoulders and listen to your instincts.”

Hunter nodded again, deep in thought about what a Chalra and a Rhaleon could be, when his opponent went on the move again. Hunter took a deep breath, to clear his mind of any distracting thoughts and let his body take over this time. Instead of the usual kick to the chest, his opponent’s wooden sword met his side, causing a brief moment of blinding pain and another meeting with the ground.

“Kid,” the familiar phrase of the Captain, “I think you relaxed a little too much.”

“You think?” Hunter grumbled as he laid on the ground, basking in his pain.

“C’mon,” the Captain continued “get up and we’ll go get some lunch. Afterwards we’ll continue your training.”

Hunter grunted again in response, as he still hadn’t found the strength to stand up yet. A few minutes later the pain subsided enough for him to sit up and catch his breath a little better. Shortly after, he found he had the ability to stand up and shuffled his way over to the tavern, where most guards ate their three meals for the day.

“Kid, I was wondering when you would show up,” the Captain said, “we’re almost finished eating already.”

Hunter grunted indifferently, afraid that speaking would further aggravate his side and sat down in his usual spot with the Captain. One of the barmaids brought Hunter a plate with a dish that had been specially made for him, as the owner was a kind woman and had heard that Hunter preferred not to eat meat. Hunter took the food gratefully, turning a blind eye to the eggs and portions of meat that had been introduced into his dish. While he would have preferred it without the additions, he and the owner both knew that he needed the protein.

“Hmph” the Captain said, while staring intently at Hunter’s dish.

“Problem?” Hunter asked, with an attitude that he seemed to have picked up over the past few days.

“It’s just …” the Captain started, “that looks really good, and she’s never made anything special for me.”

Hunter laughed, relieved that the Captain had just been jealous of his food, as he had gotten tired of explaining why he prefers not to eat meat, a notion shared between both worlds. “Maybe you could ask for it next time you’re in,” Hunter told the jealous Captain.

The Captain grunted in response, seemingly a bit lost in thought.

Hunter stood up, interrupting the Captain and his thoughts, as he had finished his food moments before and walked to the door, wincing slightly as his side still stung a bit. When he arrived back at the training area, he felt the Captain rest his rough calloused hand gently on his shoulder.

“We’re going to go over a few training exercises, then you’re going to spar with me one on one,” the Captain instructed.

Hunter nodded and replied with a “Yes, sir.”

Hunter went to retrieve his training sword that was still lying on the ground where he had been knocked down last. He then headed to his usual spot and practiced his basic strikes in front of a training dummy, receiving occasional advice on posture and technique from the Guard Captain. Alternating between his right and left hands and using both hands, Hunter practiced until the sun had begun to set. The Captain had been so invested in watching Hunter’s progress, that he had nearly forgotten their sparring session.

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The Captain stopped Hunter “Alright kid, it’s time for our one on one. Come at me when you’re ready,” he said, shifting into a comfortable fighting stance.

“Alright I’m ready,” Hunter said before lunging at the Captain in an all too familiar manner.

“Hmph,” the Captain grunted, “I thought you would have …” and was interrupted by Hunter’s sidestep and clumsy swing at his head. The Captain blocked it without too much difficulty, as Hunter had been unbalanced during his strike. “So it appears you head isn’t as thick as it may seem,” he retorted, striking at Hunter who had been further unbalanced by the Captain’s block.

Hunter jumped back using his unbalanced momentum to his advantage “I had a lot of time to think,” Hunter said before lunging once again at the Captain. Though this time, the Captain was prepared for any sneak attacks that Hunter may attempt and didn’t have any witty remarks to throw at him. Preparing to once again step to the side at the last moment, Hunter ran at the Captain and baseball slid past him on the other side while slashing at his knees as he passed. The Captain seemed to realize what he was doing just as he was doing it and just barely blocked the strike that would have crippled him, if were they sparring with real swords. “Wow,” Hunter huffed, the last bit taking the wind completely out of him.

“That was surprising,” the Captain commented, “in a good way. Where did you learn to do that?”

“I played baseball in high school,” Hunter responded.

“Hmmm,” the Captain mused. “Well it is my turn to attack,” the Captain said, before pushing off with his back foot and striking at Hunter in one swift movement. A brief sense of awe flashed in Hunter’s mind, which was quickly replaced with the need to block the onslaught of strikes that accompanied the first. Hunter managed to block almost half of the strikes that had been dealt to him, a definite improvement from his first sparring session where he failed to block a single strike and his last where he only managed to block the first. “Good, you’re improving.”

“Really, it doesn’t feel like it,” Hunter responded, wincing at the fresh welts that he had received.

“Alright, now come at me again,” the Captain encouraged. Hunter slowly circled around the Captain, searching for any openings or insights that may pop up, when he had to block an incoming strike. “I said come at me, not stalk me like a Rhaleon.” Thinking about the reference to a Rhaleon again, Hunter paced a few more steps before stopping and attempting to lunge in a similar manner to when the Captain had struck at him. The Captain blocked all of his strikes with ease, chuckling when Hunter had finished his attempt. “That was good, but a bit too slow. Your movements are too wide and give away what you’re going to do before you do it, and the surprise is lost if you stop before you strike. Alright, now come at me one last time.” Hunter nodded and backed up slightly, preparing his final attempt, incorporating all of the things he had learned during this bout. Maintaining steady breathing Hunter paced slightly out of sword distance, until the Captain struck at him. Seeing his opening, Hunter lunged to the side letting out a single strike that the Captain easily blocked, though Hunter wasn’t finished yet. Hunter then spun around attempting another strike and when that had been blocked, he rolled to the side letting out another strike when he stood up. Hunter stood in awe, frozen, his arm extended, his sword contacting the Captain’s backside, not even noticing the fair amount of blood trickling down his face.

 “Well, you finally got a hit in,” The Captain chuckled, “Though I think you received more damage than I did. Nice work, kid. Go wash up and we’ll celebrate in the usual spot,” the Captain said, giving Hunter a wink, before turning and heading to the tavern.

“Whew” Hunter let out a sigh of relief, “Ah” he winced, the adrenaline having finally worn off and his injuries started to catch up with him. Hunter used the steady sound of his own dripping blood to help steady his own thoughts for a couple of moments before he realized exactly what he was doing. Slightly concerned, he called over the guardsman, who had experience in healing and had helped him with any muscle fatigue over the last few days. Thte guard rushed over checking his injuries and reassured Hunter that it was only a superficial nosebleed and it had already begun to stop and that he should be more worried about his cracked ribs.

Hunter winced again, feeling the guard’s energy circulating throughout his body and guiding his ribs back together. “Now I won’t be able to fuse them together,” the guard told him, “but this should at least speed up the healing process.” Hunter thanked the man for his continued assistance, a bit disappointed that he had never been able to catch the man’s name as he usually disappeared as quickly as he arrived. Noticing that the guard had once again disappeared, Hunter decided to make his way over to the nearby well, a trek that had become familiar to him, as he had to make it every morning to clean the barracks and every night if he wanted to clean himself. As he made his way to the well, he noticed that the sun had nearly gone down by now, meaning that his training session took even longer than the previous ones. Trying to hasten his progress, as taking longer would mean getting less sleep, Hunter nearly ran to and from the well, sloshing a fair amount of water on the ground on his trip back. With only half of bucket left to work with, Hunter started to wash off the dirt and blood that he had accrued over the past hour.

About half an hour later Hunter had expended all his available water and was as clean as he was going to get for the night. He had noticed that his usual set of armor seemed to wick off any dirt or grime, it also provided a far greater ease of movement and cushioning against blows than the stiff set of armor that he was provided for the last few days. The Guard Captain seemed to think it would be better to practice in that armor instead and Hunter wasn’t inclined to disagree with the man, though he would’ve preferred to have been able to wear his usual armor today. Feeling his still tender side, Hunter set off to the Tavern, still reveling in what he had managed to accomplish. As Hunter approached the Tavern, he thought that it sounded a bit more lively than usual. Dismissing it as just another higher dopamine response, Hunter swung open the door.