A Story to Tell

A Story to Tell (Part 5)

I wake up feeling energized and look around the room, hoping I'm back home. Disappointment hits hard as I'm still in the small room as the night before. I trudge out of the bed and over to the chai with the clothes setting atop of it. Grabbing the clothes, I let out a sigh and slipped off the old clothes. Putting on the new ones, I see they are older looking, with an open pirate's blouse and baggy pants. I push away the thought of the clothes and turn to the mirror in the corner. Looking in the mirror, the clothes don't look that bad. They remind me of a fairy librarian. A knock on the door and I stop my twirling fantasy of fairy librarians, I look toward the door and see Tobias holding something in hand.

"Here, it's the last piece of the outfit," I walk toward him and turn as he clips on a long flowing cape.

"Thank you," I add, being short and sweet.

Tobias nods, and we walk out of the door and outside to walk along the path. We walk for a while without talking before we reach an older looking building. Tobias stands out in front of the building and nods for me to go in. I walk through the door and into the dome like room with weapons of all kind lining the room. So the training begins.

We start with physical training, working on my figure. Starting with small sprints and cardio, the man has me run from one side to the next back and forth for what felt like forever. The next part of my figure that we work on is my arm, which is decently sized. We left bricks and rocks for weights. We do this for a while before switching to hand on hand combat. Me and the instructor and I start on opposite sides of the room, holding our hands out in front of each other. The instructor slinks toward me, and I mimic his movements. I take the first swing,being hesitant and nervous. The instructor dodges and rolls to the side. I go back to my fist up and wait for his strike. The instructor takes a swing, I dodge and go for his legs, the instructor falls, and I bring him into a pin. 5 seconds later, the man taps my side 2 times, and I release.

"You're quite good," the instructor compliments me.

"Thank you, sir." I take the compliment and appreciate it. I've been taking self-defense lessons before but never knew they would pay off.

We walk back to the start of the room and take a break. I grab the can of water and take a sip, glancing around the room as I do. I stop my glance at all the weapons that are lined against, finding a sword among all the others to peek my interest. I admire the dragon engravings that run up along the hilt, the engravings looking as though they are telling a forbidden story. I don't realize I'm slowly inching toward them weapons until the instructor clears his throat.

"Would you like to practice with the dull ened swords?" the instructor asks .

Curiosity rises in me, and I nod continuously, eager to hold a sword for the first time.

We walk over, and I grab the dull ended sword by the hilt and walk cautiously back to the center of the room. Even though the sword is dull, I still feel the need to gold it like a newborn baby. The instructor picks up a slightly bigger hilt for his large hands. We meet in the middle and get in ready stances. He has to show me what mine should look like, but we stand in position and begin the training process. He shows me how to swing the sword and how to drive the sword upwards when underneath an enemy. The swinging practice goes on for a while before we move over to another weapon of my choice, the battle axe. He teaches me how to hatch at something and how to swing without throwing out your shoulder.

The training ends, and I am sent home, along the worn down path I've walked down many times now.

When I enter the small house, I see the front room in shambles, papers everywhere, and chairs in wrong spots. I move to the kitchen and find Tobias looking for something frantically. Tobias doesn't notice me, so I clear my throat and pick up a plate that's been set on the countertop in an awkward way.

"What are you looking for?" I ask.

"Nothing, you should rest for the fight," Tobias says, demanding me to almost but not with force but with fear.

I feel the need to tell him no, but I don't, and just to the small room in the back. Where I can still hear the rummaging coming from the kitchen that moves more toward the back of the house, where I have to yet to see. When I enter the room, it looks like it's already been flipped upside do and some what put back together. So I started to pick up all the small trinkets that have been left on the hard wood floors, finding various things of wooden animals and people. I see that my clothes have been folded and washed and are now sitting on the chair where the other pair was this morning. I slip out of the new clothes and into the old ones, getting ready to lay down. As I reach the edge of the bed, my foot kicks something underneath it. Leaning down, I pull out a small rectangular box with a make shift lock, holding the top tightly shut.