A retelling of Ten Keepers: Book One's Chapters 6 to 7.
Training Begins
Eilene's POV
Like the introvert she actually was, Eilene hated it when some random Greencloaks gawked at her. She merely only wanted to walk through the hallways of Greenhaven in peace, but with word of the new Ten Keepers spreading out like wildfire- not to mention the fact that there was a huge grizzly bear ambling behind her -the attention naturally was directed at her. Hopefully the newness of their prophetic savior vibes wore of soon enough.
So when she reached the training room and found it completely empty, she found herself relaxing far more because thank Briggan!
"People are tiring," Eilene mumbled.
Ursa grunted in agreement before exploring the training room on her own.
With a sigh, Eilene glanced around before deciding to approach the weapons area. Swords of all shapes and sizes, bow and arrows, hammers and little nunchucks and... a couple of leftover dishes with its respective utensils and some kitchen cutlery and a potted plant and why in the world were they there?!
She decided to pick up one of the staffs, feeling the weight in her hands. She's never had to fight before... but she assumed all she had to do was wack people so-
"Out of all the weapons, you chose a staff?"
Eilene inwardly groaned because this was the last person she wanted to hold a conversation with right now. She turned, finding the heir of Gaundor strolling in with his wolf, his eyebrows cocked upwards all judging and everything. For real, what is up with his air? She's never seen an ego so high!
"Do you have a problem with that, oh son of lord Gaundor?" Eilene asked, tone bored.
His oh-so-superior-vibes scoffed. "Only if you plan on waving a stick around in battle. Seriously, very not-edgy of you, my friend."
"And I suppose his edgy-ness can be so gracious to share his pool of infinite wisdom?"
"Since you asked so nicely, peasant, I shall!" John, very skillfully (she grudgingly admits) unsheathes his sword, casually twirling it around, "This is the prime of all weapons."
"Ah. I didn't know kitchen utensils were used in battle but..." She gestures to the pile of said kitchen utensils on the weapons rack. "I suppose I have you to thank for opening up my options."
John glanced at the pile of kitchen utensils before giving her a flat look. "Oh, haha. Was I supposed to laugh?"
"Technically, you sort of did."
"A fake laugh."
"Still a laugh."
"And you'll get a real one when someone impales you in battle for your poor choice of weaponry," John retorted.
Eilene glared at him. "At least I wouldn't be the one impaling people."
Silence.
"That..." John shook his head, confused. "Was it just me or did that sound kind of personal?"
"It's not," Eilene quickly denied.
"Are you sure?"
"A hundred percent."
"Because if you honestly have a problem with me-"
"I don't-"
"-then I can take it. Really, I'm not that much a jerk."
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