(Sage's POV)
A sharp noise woke me from my sleep and suddenly I had rolled off my bed and landed in a crouching position, my hand gripping the dagger I kept under my pillow. When I realised the noise was just my alarm clock, I straightened up, turned it off and put the dagger back under my pillow.
I noticed a damp patch on my pillow and realised I had been crying in my sleep. Again. Which means I had the dream. Again. I felt my chest tighten and I ripped my gaze away and looked at the clock. It was already 5:52, I only had eight minutes until I had to be at the training room. Although training started at 6:30 sharp, every morning since I was five, I had to get there half an hour early so I could warm up. The last time I slept in, I severely tore my hamstring. I will not be making that mistake again.
I noticed that my limp was almost gone, as I had hoped it would. When you get as many injuries as I do, your body becomes conditioned to them. It makes it harder to hurt yourself and quicker to heal. My father always said, 'it's survival of the fittest. You either learn to adapt, or you die.'
I stripped out of my leggings and singlet, I always slept I'm my clothes, just incase. I grabbed a clean pair of leggings and a singlet, by now you should realise this is what I spent about 80% of my time wearing, and headed into the bathroom to get dressed.
A few minutes later I came out of the bathroom, dressed, hair in a pony tail and teeth brushed. I quickly rubbed some of the healing cream onto my ankle, and a few of my other injuries, wrapped it and was on my way.
*****
As expected, my dad showed up at exactly 6:30. I was in the middle of a warm up lap around the track, but when I saw him I stopped and walked over, making my face go blank.
"Morning Sage." His face was set in a deep scowl and his voice was cold and sharp.
"Hi dad." I stopped in front of him, making sure to stay out of arms reach, just incase he was still mad. Which I knew he was.
"I've decided to add and extra eight laps to your normal amount, making it an even fifty. Once you're done meet me back here. There is something I must take care of. I should be back by the time you're finished."
I mumbled a 'yes dad' and got to work.
This was going to be a VERY long day.
*****
One and a half hours later and I only had two more laps to go. About twenty laps ago I started feeling tired, but I would never say that out loud. I could feel my blood pounding in my ears, my heart hammering in my chest, my desperate gasps as I tried to get oxygen into my lungs and the burning sensation in my legs as my muscles complained.
This was my favourite thing about training. Pushing my body to the limits, seeing how far I could go, but this was really pushing it. It didn't help that I ran the whole way, at the moment I was doing a quick jog. I was so exhausted that my body had begun to shut down, with each step my feet scraped the ground, but I couldn't lift them any higher. I didn't think I would be physically able to complete the next one and a half laps.
The training room was very big, the walls were a plain white and covered in various weapons. The running track took up one half of the room and inside the track was all the training equipment. It was pretty much a large gym.
The other half of the room was occupied by the long and short distance shooting ranges, practice dummies and the fighting arena. The arena was just a large, empty bit of floor in the corner of the room that was used in fights. There were various rooms off to the side of the training room. There was the infirmary, the change rooms and the pool.
