In a world where everything seems perfectly logical and pragmatic. The thought of anything existing outside of the realm of what one already knows seems impractical.
That is how Melinda Morrison sees life.
The very life where she has shared nearly e...
I deeply underestimated the level of discipline, patience, and stamina that sword training was going to need.
As a matter of fact, the spite in which I took up the sport was something I didn't necessarily intend to keep up with at this point after accepting Lehamo's challenge, but after spotting him on occasion—eyes persistent and waiting for me to officially abandon the skill and give him a reason to reiterate that as a girl, I wouldn't be able to match up to what a man could do only propelled me to move forward with my training.
Lehamo was young but his growing misogyny was picking up steam despite the egalitarian dynamic mother and father exhibited in the household; society was corrupting his mind before he even had an idea that it was.
I came from a world where for the most part, a woman could do as she pleased and if it meant going into a predominately-male sector, they would still be allowed access, but here I was fighting to prove myself bringing my young body to the brink of exhaustion to prove a point.
Swordmastery was a good skill to gain in this world it seems but I had never been the athletic one in life outside of the cheering I did in high school by force and that was the furthest extent I've gone.
I would give the training one accolade though; the ability to completely empty my rambling mind out and silence it long enough to understand the different strikes, movements, and defenses needed in order to participate in a proper swordfight.
My brain has never had the capacity to rest as it was always finding some new information—a new idea, a project that it could attach itself to and burn out with information; that's how it's always been with me. But somehow when I swung my wooden sword around, sweat lightly beading against the crown of my forehead, I was at peace more so than when I rested in bed for the evening.
In the end, though, I had no one to blame myself. I was the one who brought it up to my grandfather and grandmother. I pleaded my case to learn the preliminaries to sword training and at first, they were against it—mother included, they thought I was too young to engage in such matters gender or not. But I convinced them that while it may not seem important now, it was always best to start early. I even got Dareios, Lehamo's instructor to vouch for my incoming mage abilities.
Once grandfather heard that my powers were beginning to come in, he green-lit the training; he wanted to make sure that the Plarinu mage gene was full and prosperous in all the offspring of the family. He too agreed, since my talents were leaning towards defense maging that it was best to get started now rather than later.
At that moment, I felt as if I had won a small battle, but without fail, I found out very early on that it was no easy task. Because I was already having lessons with Mr. Ennith, I had to wake up early in the morning to squeeze in the training otherwise I would find myself having a longer day than necessary with all the activities it was filled with.
I wasn't a morning person. Andrew could attest to that. Mornings sucked and the only thing that could get me through it was coffee and since there wasn't necessarily an iced frappe I could find anywhere here I had to settle for small cups of tea; not enough, but for now, it will have to do.
My schedule was so packed these days, that it wasn't a surprise to see that several weeks had already passed at this point. After the introduction and welcome banquet grandmother threw on our behalf, where we met the local nobility of Bria, I was fully thrust into my studies and coursework provided to me by the talented instructors.
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