Sharpen the Steel

Fern is out in the practice ring, alternating between fighting one of the stuffed dummies and using the agility course. Right now, the gray wolf runs through the obstacles that had been made to test her dexterity while holding onto the wooden training sword. The season has been flying by so fast since the gray girl has thrown herself into her training. True to her word, Fern has carried the training sword everywhere she goes, from the dining hall to patrols and everywhere else the day takes her, the wooden sword is a constant presence. The scabbard that lays across her back has become a second skin, the familiar weight of the sword at rest helps remind the girl of what she is working toward.

At night, she props the scabbard and its sword up next to the bed she shares with Rudyard, the wooden handle within easy reach, should she need it. Her days are filled with training, patrolling, practicing, leaning, and… more training. At first, when Fern would crawled into bed with Rudy at night, exhaustion had quickly pulled her into dreamland and she would awaken with sore, stiff muscles. The first week had been the hardest, the gray girl had been pushed to her limits every day and, every morning, when she could barely move, the girl had questioned if it would be worth it. Every time she met Art, her question was answered, the dedication he had to her as a teacher was easily matched by her eagerness to learn. After the third week, her muscles started to loosen, the deep ache and stiffness that had followed pervious training sessions lessened to a point where she barely noticed it.

As her sword work improved, so did her coordination and agility. Fern is not even close to being a master but she is proud of her own progress. Moving with the sword is more natural now and, when throws her weight sideways on the course, she no longer topples over. A small but mighty victory in her eyes. Light paws move nimbly around a set of poles that had been made to test her balance, coordination, and timing. Halfway through the set, a call catches her ears and Fern pauses. Atrorias is calling for her and, with a wide smile around the wooden grip, the gray girl steps away from the course and slides the wooden sword home into its scabbard. With that, she and her sword make the trip back to the castle, working their way quickly toward the workshop.

Stepping inside, Fern sees Artorais standing near a workbench and she steps forward, saying, “Hello Art. What is my lesson for today?” The Aegis often had little lessons for her and, as she slips her sheathed sword off her back to prop it against the workbench, she hopes this one is about real swords. Her ocean-hued eyes take in the beautiful Damascus steel pattern of Art’s sword, her smile bright as she settles in for whatever lesson he has prepared for her.

WC: 506
Total: 952 / 1500

"Fern"