After history class, lunch was a quiet affair at a small round table.

  ?Lassandra sat across from Aelira, stabbing a piece of bread with unnecessary violence.

  ?Thunk.

  ?“Now it’s time for that guy’s lesson...” she muttered, her fork scraping against the porcelain. “That bald, muscle-headed brute... strutting around like he’s the King of the Training Yard!”

  ?Aelira glanced up, startled by the venom in her nanny’s voice. Lassandra froze, realizing she had let her mask slip. She quickly forced a bright, sugary smile.

  ?“Lady Aelira! Would you like more macarons?”

  ?Aelira blinked. I should never make Lassy angry...

  ?“...Yes, please.”

  ?Lassandra placed two pink macarons on her plate, her expression softening as she watched the girl eat.

  ?“Why do you hate Mr. Telgit so much?” Aelira asked, taking a small bite.

  ?Lassandra sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I don’t hate him... exactly. But I hate the way he treats you.” Her grip on the fork tightened again. “You work so hard, yet he acts as if you’re invisible. How can anyone expect a six-year-old to swing a sword like a grown soldier?”

  ?“Isn’t that normal for sword lessons?”

  ?“There’s a limit,” Lassandra said firmly. “And he crosses it every time.”

  ?“Thanks, Lassy.” Aelira smiled faintly. “But I’ll be fine.”

  ?Lassandra’s anger seemed to melt away at that smile. She stood up, brushing crumbs from her apron. “It’s almost time. We should get you ready.”

  ?“Okay.” Aelira hopped off her chair. “Let’s go.”

  ?The training yard smelled of iron, sweat, and dry sand. The afternoon sun painted the high wooden walls in shades of gold, but the atmosphere within was anything but warm.

  ?Wooden barriers enclosed the space like a cage. Rows of training dummies stood silently, their bodies scarred from years of abuse.

  ?Lysric was already there, chatting with the instructor, Mr. Telgit.

  ?Telgit was a mountain of a man. His arms were as thick as tree trunks, crossed over a chest that looked like a wall of muscle. His bald head gleamed in the sunlight, and he twirled a waxed mustache with an air of self-importance.

  ?“Finally! We’ve been waiting forever,” Lysric groaned, throwing his hands behind his head.

  ?Telgit turned his gaze to Aelira. He looked her up and down, sneering.

  ?“You still look like a twig.”

  ?Aelira bit her lip, suppressing a retort.

  ?“Are you even eating?”

  ?“Lady Aelira eats plenty,” Lassandra snapped, stepping forward. “Your expectations are ridiculous.”

  ?“There is no age on the battlefield, miss!” Telgit interrupted, slapping his own bicep loudly. He struck a pose, flexing until veins popped on his forehead. “See these? These aren’t just arms—they are weapons! You want to live? Then sculpt your body into art! Like THIS!”

  ?He kissed his own bicep. Smack.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  ?Lassandra’s eye twitched. A vein throbbed on her temple.

  ?“Lassy...” Aelira whispered, tugging her skirt.

  ?Lassandra took a deep breath. “He’s right,” Aelira said, stepping forward and picking up a wooden sword. It felt heavy in her hands. “If I want to become a hero, I have to work harder.”

  ?Lassandra fell silent, though her glare at Telgit remained deadly.

  ?“Hah! At least you have the spirit,” Telgit smirked. “Now, attack me. As fast as you can. Lord Lysric, you’re first.”

  ?“Finally!” Lysric grinned, drawing his practice sword with a dramatic flourish.

  ?“Start!”

  ?Lysric lunged forward, swinging wildly. He had no form, no rhythm—just pure, chaotic energy. He swung until his stamina burned out within minutes, panting heavily.

  ?“Not bad!” Telgit boomed, grinning. “I see progress! Someone has been sticking to the program.”

  ?Lysric puffed out his chest, shooting Aelira a smug look. “See that, Dumpling?”

  ?“But... you were just swinging randomly,” Aelira muttered.

  ?“Wha—?! I was aiming for his openings!”

  ?“Enough.” Telgit waved a hand. “Your turn, Lady Aelira.”

  ?Aelira stepped onto the sand. She gripped the hilt with both hands. Her fingers trembled slightly, but she forced them steady.

  ?She recalled the stances she had seen in the library books. Feet apart. Knees bent. Focus.

  ?She lunged.

  ?One strike. Two. Three.

  ?The wooden blade whistled through the air, but her swings were slow. Clumsy.

  ?Telgit didn’t even move his feet. He blocked each blow with a lazy flick of his wrist, looking bored.

  ?“No good,” he said flatly. “No power. No conviction. You’re just waving a stick.”

  ?Aelira’s chest burned. Sweat dripped into her eyes.

  ?Again.

  ?She pushed herself—four, five, six strikes!

  ?Her footing slipped on the loose sand. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed with a dull thud.

  ?“...Pathetic,” Telgit muttered. “Watch closely.”

  ?He strode over to a dummy clad in worn iron plates. Gripping his heavy practice sword, he raised it high. His muscles bulged as he brought it down in a devastating arc.

  ?CRACK!

  The sound was a violent snap, like a massive bone breaking in the silence. The heavy dummy toppled over, the wood splintering under the force.

  ?“See? That is strength.” Telgit flexed, grinning at the children. “Magic is useless if you don’t have the muscle to back it up.”

  ?He pointed a thick finger at another dummy. “Your turn.”

  ?Aelira swallowed hard. Her arms felt like lead. Slowly, painfully, she staggered to her feet.

  ?Just one good strike. I can do this.

  ?She raised the sword high. Her small arms shook under the weight. With a sharp exhale, she swung with everything she had.

  ?Tap.

  ?The sound was hollow. Weak. The dummy didn’t even shudder.

  ?Lysric burst into laughter. “Wow! Did you see that? It barely touched it!”

  ?Telgit sighed, rubbing his temple as if Aelira’s weakness gave him a headache. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s try defense. Take your guard.”

  ?Before she could even react, he was moving.

  ?He swung his sword.

  ?Thud. Aelira blocked it, but the impact rattled her bones.

  ?Thud. Her arms screamed in pain.

  ?Thud. Her knees gave out.

  ?On the fourth strike, the force was too much. She was thrown backward, hitting the sand hard.

  ?“Ughh...”

  ?Telgit loomed over her, casting a long shadow. “That was even worse.”

  ?“Are you insane?!” Lassandra rushed forward, her voice trembling with fury. “She’s a child! You’ll break her bones!”

  ?“Of course I held back,” Telgit replied coldly, resting his sword on his shoulder. “If this breaks her, she’s not cut out for hero work. Lord Lysric—if you please.”

  ?“Oh, I’m generous enough to show the Dumpling how it’s done,” Lysric said, stepping forward.

  ?Telgit barked a laugh. “That’s the attitude! A hero needs confidence!”

  ?Lysric lifted his sword. His stance was surprisingly solid. Knees bent, grip firm.

  ?Aelira, watching from the ground, widened her eyes. He’s... actually doing it properly.

  ?Lysric stepped forward. Their blades clashed.

  ?Clack! Clack! Clack!

  ?He parried three strikes before losing his balance and falling on his backside.

  ?“Better,” Telgit nodded approvingly. “Much better than yesterday. You have potential, my Lord.”

  ?Lysric smirked at Aelira, wiping dust from his nose. “See? That’s how you do it.”

  ?Aelira watched him silently. She didn’t reply. She just stared at her trembling hands.

  ?Telgit planted his sword in the sand. “Homework. Three hundred swings. Today.”

  ?“...Again?” Aelira whispered, her voice weak.

  ?“Yes. You are undeniably behind. Lysric was much better at six years old.” He paused, scratching his bald head. “It seems you’ll have to work twice as hard... because you’re a girl.”

  ?Lassandra spun toward him, eyes blazing. “She’s been doing three hundred swings all week! You can’t just—”

  ?“It’s fine, Lassy,” Aelira said softly.

  ?She forced herself upright, dusting the sand from her knees. Her hands were stinging, the skin raw and red.

  ?She looked at the dummy in front of her.

  ?He’s right. I’m weak.

  ?But weakness can be fixed.

  ?She gripped the sword again.

  ?“I’ll do it,” she said, her voice steady. “I’ll do it until I get it right.”

  ?Telgit raised an eyebrow, surprised, but quickly hid it with a grunt. “We’ll see.”