The sword feels alive in my hands.
I can’t explain it any other way. After days of fumbling with wooden practice blades, my fingers finally wrapped around the real thing this morning, and something just... clicked. The legendary blade hums with a subtle vibration that seems to resonate with my heartbeat. Each swing flows into the next with a grace I didn’t know I possessed.
“Watch your stance,” Brooke calls out from across the courtyard, her own sword cutting through the air with practiced precision. “You’re leaning too far forward.”
I adjust my footing, feeling the slight shift in balance. The morning sun beats down on us, sweat already beading on my forehead despite the early hour. The training yard is empty except for us, the stone walls casting long shadows across the packed earth.
“Better?” I ask, executing another swing. The blade slices through the air with a satisfying whoosh.
“Much,” Brooke nods, her blonde hair catching the light as she turns back to her own practice. “You’re getting really good at this.”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. After struggling for days with the wooden swords, feeling like a complete idiot as I tripped over my own feet and dropped my weapon more times than I can count, this feels like a miracle. The real sword moves like an extension of my arm, like it was made specifically for me.
A throat clears from the entrance to the training yard. I lower my sword and turn to see Matilda standing there, her muscular arms crossed over her chest. Morgana stands beside her, that dark staff of hers clutched in one hand, her purple eyes watching us with that unnerving intensity.
“Well, there’s the heroes,” Matilda says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Watching you both with those sticks, I was worried you’d never be able to save the world.” She shakes her head, her spiky grey hair catching the sunlight. “But now I see we have a strong 5% chance of surviving.”
“Big words for a hag like you,” Brooke shoots back, her blue eyes flashing with challenge.
Matilda’s face splits into a wide grin, her teeth gleaming white against her tanned skin. “Ohh? How about both of you come at me?”
I lower my sword, feeling suddenly awkward. “I’d feel horrible if I hurt you...”
Matilda throws her head back and laughs, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “If either of you can hit me, I’ll break my oath to the goddesses, dooming myself to a life of hell and degeneracy.”
Brooke shares an uncomfortable glance with me and then looks back at Matilda. “Uhh, we don’t want that for you...”
“Alright,” Matilda says, her smile faltering slightly. “If you can hit me, I’ll uhh... umm...” She looks to Morgana, clearly struggling to come up with a better wager.
Morgana steps forward, her dark robes swirling around her ankles. “If you can hit her, I’ll teach you how to do the birth control spell you’ve both been begging to learn.”
Brooke doesn’t hesitate. She’s immediately running right at Matilda, her sword raised high. Matilda sidesteps with casual grace, Brooke’s blade slicing through empty air where she stood a moment before.
“Too slow,” Matilda taunts, already moving away.
I grip my sword tighter, watching as Brooke recovers and lunges again. Matilda dodges like it’s nothing, her movements fluid and effortless. It’s like watching a professional dancer avoid an amateur’s clumsy steps.
“Come on, Christopher,” Brooke calls, her voice tight with frustration. “Help me corner her!”
I charge forward, putting every ounce of strength into my attack. It’s been so long since Brooke and I have fucked, and I’m so pent up I can barely think straight. The thought of finally learning that birth control spell, of being able to be with Brooke without worrying about consequences, fuels my determination.
“On your left!” I shout to Brooke as we coordinate our attack, trying to corner Matilda against the stone wall.
Matilda just laughs, that infuriating smirk never leaving her face. “AMATEURS!” she shouts, and with an elegance that seems impossible for someone her age, she leaps over our heads, flipping in mid-air before landing behind us.
“Shit!” I spin around.
“Yeah, well watch this, bitch!” Brooke growls, her eyes narrowing with determination.
I watch as she channels her mana, her hand glowing with a faint blue light. She takes a running start, then does something impossible, she steps on what looks like nothing, but I can see it now, a shimmering platform of compressed air beneath her foot.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, sprinting toward Matilda to keep her distracted while Brooke attempts her trick.
Brooke takes a second step, her foot finding purchase on another invisible platform. My heart leaps with excitement. She’s actually doing it! But then her foot goes straight through the second step, and she plummets face-first to the ground with a sickening thud.
“Brooke!” I abandon my attack immediately, dropping my sword as I rush to her side. My heart hammers against my ribs, panic flooding my system.
“Don’t show your back to an enemy!” Morgana’s voice cuts through my fear, but I barely register it. I stop for just a second, torn between my training and my concern for Brooke.
I look back at Brooke, who’s pushing herself up from the ground. When she lifts her face, my stomach drops. Blood pours from her nose, which is clearly busted, bent at an unnatural angle.
“I think I broke my nose,” she says, her voice muffled by the blood.
“Oh god, it looks horrible,” I whisper, kneeling beside her, my hands hovering uncertainly over her face.
Despite the pain and blood, Brooke laughs, the sound bubbling up through the crimson flowing down her chin. “It’s fine, Chris. I’m fine.”
“Goddesses, Brooke,” Matilda says, her voice filled with genuine awe as she approaches. “You are a fucking natural.”
“But I fucked up,” Brooke says, wincing as she tries to touch her nose.
“You just stepped on wind… The same week you learned about magic,” Matilda continues, shaking her head in disbelief. “I mean holy shit.”
She looks to Morgana, her expression serious. “That’s gotta be the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone take to magic.”
Morgana steps forward, her dark staff glowing with golden light. “She’s nothing if not capable,” she says sternly. “Cura.”
The healing magic flows from her staff in a gentle wave, washing over Brooke’s face. I watch in fascination as the bone shifts beneath the skin, the cartilage straightening with a soft crack that makes my stomach flip. The bleeding stops instantly, the crimson drying to a dull brown on Brooke’s upper lip.
Matilda reaches into a pouch at her belt and pulls out a small towel, tossing it to Brooke with casual precision. “Here. Clean yourself up.”
Brooke catches it and wipes the blood from her face, revealing skin that looks completely unharmed. Not even a bruise. She grins at me, that wild, reckless smile that makes my heart skip.
“I think I just really wanted to get you,” she says to Matilda, pushing herself to her feet. She rolls her shoulders back, testing her nose with careful fingers. “Like, really wanted it.”
Matilda crosses her arms, that weathered face breaking into a genuine smile. “Keep this up, and you will. In no time.”
She turns to me then, those sharp brown eyes pinning me in place. “Christopher, you too. Good energy. You clearly really wanted it too.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me,” Matilda says, her voice dropping to that gravelly tone that means she’s about to lay into me. “Next time, you can’t stutter. I was so taken aback by Brooke’s feat that you could have had a really solid chance of getting me.”
I blink at her, the realization hitting me like a slap. She’s right. In that moment of distraction, I could have…
“Fuck,” I mutter, running a hand through my sweat-damp hair. The opportunity was right there, and I let it slip through my fingers because I froze. Because I was worried about Brooke.
Matilda claps me on the shoulder, her grip firm enough to make me wince. “Live and learn, kid. That’s what training’s for.”
I nod, still kicking myself. The birth control spell is right there, dangling in front of us like a carrot on a stick, and I blew my shot because I got distracted.
Brooke bumps her shoulder against mine, her blue eyes warm with understanding. “We’ll get her next time,” she whispers, her voice full of that fierce determination that makes me fall in love with her all over again.
“Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile. “Next time.”
“Alright,” Matilda barks, snapping me back to attention. “Let’s run through those sword forms again.”