~Pride Will Get You Nowhere~An PJO AU

A Moore Learns Sword Fighting

AN: Hey everyone! I know it's been a while, and I want to apologize for the unexpected break. Life's been a bit hectic, but I'm back and ready to continue Kalieth's journey. OH AND THANKS FOR 100 READS!!! 

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The clang of steel echoed across the training grounds, a sharp reminder of the challenge Kalieth faced today. He stood in the middle of the clearing, the familiar weight of the wooden practice sword in his hands, though it felt heavier than usual. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared down his instructor, a seasoned swordfighter who had taken it upon themselves to teach Kalieth the basics.

This wasn't like the brief drills with Chiron. This was real training, intense and unforgiving, and Kalieth felt it in every muscle.

"Again!" barked the Annabeth, slashing her own sword in an arc as they charged.

Kalieth barely raised his sword in time to block the blow. His knees buckled under the force, and he stumbled back, his feet skidding across the dirt. Sweat dripped down his face, but he didn't dare wipe it away. Every second mattered. Every mistake was a weakness that could be exploited.

"You're too slow," She growled, circling Kalieth like a predator. "If this were a real fight, you'd be dead by now."

Kalieth gritted his teeth, frustration bubbling up inside him. He knew they were right. Even with all the practice over the past few weeks, he still felt out of his depth. His grip tightened on the sword's hilt as he adjusted his stance, trying to remember everything he'd been taught.

Breathe. Focus. Anticipate.

Annabeth came at him again, faster this time. Kalieth swung his sword, aiming to parry, but the blow came from a different angle. The wooden blade struck his side, sending a shock of pain through his ribs. He gasped, but refused to drop the sword.

"You think you're going to fight monsters with that weak technique?" She scoffed, taking a step back. "You're not just some regular demigod, Kalieth. You've got to push harder than anyone else here."

"I'm trying!" Kalieth snapped, frustration getting the better of him. He hated feeling this way—like no matter how hard he worked, he was always behind. The weight of being Zeus's son, of living up to everyone's expectations, crushed him a little more each day. He couldn't afford to fail. 

His instructor's gaze softened slightly, their sharp eyes still watchful but less critical. "Trying isn't enough. You need to trust yourself, trust the blade. It's an extension of you. Don't think about what you're doing—feel it."

Kalieth took a breath, steadying his racing thoughts. His mother's voice echoed in his mind from their last conversation: Trust yourself.

The next attack came fast and hard, but this time, instead of thinking about the perfect move, Kalieth reacted. He shifted his weight, dodging the first strike, and swung his sword in a clean arc, catching Annabeth by surprise. The wooden blades clashed with a loud crack, and for a moment, Kalieth felt in control.

"Better," She said, nodding. "But we're just getting started."

Kalieth allowed himself a small, determined smile, despite the pain in his ribs. The fight was far from over, but for the first time since he arrived at camp, he felt like he might actually stand a chance.