Arland hit his ass as Leera flung him back. He hit hard, the force leaving a large bruise.

He stood and rubbed the soreness, "Hey, easy! I'm only ten, Leera!"

She stood back to her full height, sheathing her sword, "Regardless, You made me draw my blade. I'm impressed, kid."

He glared at her, "I'm not a kid anymore! I'm a full-fledged knight in training!"

She held up her hands, "Whoa, sorry! Watch out for Mr. Badass squire over here!"

He lowered into his stance and charged in, swinging his blade in a wide arc, "YOU'RE DEAD, LEERA!"

She pulled up her scabbard, blocking the strike with one hand before lashing out her foot and kicking him in the stomach. As she brought her foot down, she ran her hands over her body, "Nope. I think I'm actually still very much alive."

He looked up at her from his position, doubled over as drool ran over his chin from the kick, "Damn... You..." He croaked out before he fell and passed out.

"You should have seen that coming," Leera said to the unconscious child.

Leera looked down at the young man. She'd been hired by the Norman family to train the young boy. When she moved onto the family estate to train him, he'd only been eight. In just two years, he'd shown incredible agility, tenacity, and ferocity in combat, quickly picking up anything and everything she taught him. She had to give credit to the boy.

However, while he understood all the fundamentals and basics - She'd even go so far as to say he was a natural! - He still lacked one key component: Experience. And so they sparred. The best teacher for him at this point was to fight, but only in non-lethal ways. Ways that a mistake wouldn't mean death.

She turned and looked towards the house, "How does a kid from such a family end up with such a natural talent...?" She mumbled to herself.

Leera reached down and picked up the young man. She carried him back to the manor and laid him in his room. She took a moment to check on him. He had a peaceful expression on his face, and he seemed to be sleeping well. She left his room and sought out the family physician.

***

"Hey, Myles!" She called when she saw the middle-aged man.

He turned from his task, "Hey Leera. Arland have another injury?"

She nodded, "Yeah. The kid's good, but he needs to learn to moderate himself. He can't always just rush in."

Myles folded his arms, and tapped his chin, his elbow resting on his hand, "Have you let him know how good he is?"

She sighed and shook her head as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "Not recently, no."

"Make sure you let him know. If you don't, he may lose his drive. He's got a lot of potential. Kids like that need to be challenged and praised. They need to know they're advancing and doing better without thinking they're running in place."

Leera interlocked her fingers and rested them behind her head, "Yeah, I know, Myles. You've told me repeatedly. I don't need another lecture, old man."

He glowered at her, "I'm NOT old, Leera. Hell, you're thrice my age. And if you actually did know, I wouldn't have to continuously tell you. Now, I'll go treat his injuries. As soon as I'm done, Take him for a damned walk without the intent to bring him back with further injuries, and just tell him how far he's come and how proud you are of him. He needs to hear it."

She blushed and turned away, "Hey, I'm not good at mushy things like that."

He patted her on the shoulder, "That's why they hired me. To cure people. both mentally and physically. Now, out of my way. I've got an injured young man to heal."

She watched him go, before sighing. She shook her head and turned to leave to the garden.

***

Arland awoke and looked around, finding himself in his room. His eyes widened, "What happened?"

Myles smiled, "You got a little too excited, and took a beating. It's alright, though. Your bruises are healing well. When we're done here, Leera needs to speak with you. You'll find her in her usual spot, I'd imagine."

Arland sighed, "She probably wants to tell me that she's tired of wasting her time with me... She even stopped teaching me and started sparring so she could beat me... I don't get it, Myles! I'm not much smaller than her, but she overpowers me every single time!" He grimaced as a tear rolled down his cheek, "I'll never be able to go find Nury at this rate... I'm letting her down, Myles..."

The man placed his hand on Arland's shoulder, "Hey kiddo. Don't give up before you've actually lost. You're not dead yet. You'll get there yet." He packed up his medical bag, stood, and walked to the door. He turned back, "Hey, Arland... You are strong. You could probably beat most of the soldiers in your father's employ. Leera... She's one of the best warriors in this county. Only a handful of people would be able to beat her."

Arland lowered his gaze to the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest, "If that's so, then why won't she go easy on me...?"

Myles grinned, "She does. If she wanted you dead, you wouldn't be able to take a step. The fact that you forced her to draw her sword earlier is quite the accomplishment."

Arland looked up at Myles, "So I'm strong? I'm doing well?"

"You are, and you are, kiddo. Now, don't dawdle. We both know Leera hates to be kept waiting."

Arland nodded and the man left the room. He sat for a long moment before standing and getting dressed.

***

Arland made his way to the garden, where he saw Leera sitting on a bench, her back turned to him. He grinned and dropped to a sneak stance. He silently made his way up to her.

He reached forward to tickle her ribs when she spoke, "Hey kiddo."

He froze, "How the heck did you hear me?! I was silent!"

She turned and smiled at him, "You forget? I'm an elf." She twitched her ears to prove the point. "I heard you breathing. It's as loud as a scream to me."

His eyes widened, "But, you never told me that..."

She shrugged, "I've been training you for two years. You haven't exactly asked questions, have you? I figured I'd keep it to myself until I was certain you were ready to handle it."

He grinned and moved in, "Well, how about we see what you can handle?"

She moved to the side and patted the bench next to her, "I'm a bit tired at the moment. Why don't you sit and chat for a bit, kid?"

He furrowed his brow before moving around and cautiously sitting next to her, ready to spring away at a moment's notice, "Why...?"

Leera turned away, hiding her face from him, "Because we need to talk. It's something I'm not good at, so I've been putting it off... Listen, Arland... You're strong. Stronger than most adults in this area. You could easily overpower any of the soldiers and likely a good number of the adventurers as well... I didn't want to admit it, but I've actually been struggling against you in our matches recently. Today, when I drew my blade, you would've taken my head off if I hadn't."

Arland relaxed, a bit taken aback by her admission. She turned back to him and moved her hair, revealing a bright red line on her neck, "Even with my block, the air pressure you created caused this bruise, Arland. So there are other things we need to work on. If we continue sparring together, it'll only result in one of us being injured beyond what Myles can heal."

"What are you saying, Leera?"

She smiled, "I'm saying that I'm done training you. Once we speak with your father, I'll be leaving. The only way to continue your education is for you to experience the real world - real, life-or-death combat. It'll be kill or be killed, Arland. It won't be easy."

He took a deep breath, "I understand, Leera. If my father approves, I'll stay by your side."

She reached over and tousled his hair, "You're a good kid, Arland. You've improved like a man possessed, powering through all the training I threw at you. I'm genuinely proud of you. I'm pleased to say, you've graduated."

She stood and walked over in front of him, "You know I don't stand on ceremony, but I should at least do this properly. Arland Norman of the Kingdom Of Cheecia, kneel."

He stood from the bench and knelt before her. She drew her sword and held it out, level with the ground and horizontal to him, "I, Leera the Elven Swordmaster, hereby dub thee an official swordmaster-in-training. Rise, Arland. You're at the skill level of a knight now. You could go on and be one of the best. A swordmaster, however, does not stop there. No, we take it further. We take swordplay and refine it into an art form. It is this that I wish for you, Arland. Come, let's speak with your father about having you travel with me to take some quests, even just a few small ones from the local guild hall."

***

"No! Absolutely not, Leera! I won't hear another word of it!" Harald shouted.

Leera wore a defiant expression as she retorted, "But you don't understand, Harald! He's a damned fine swordsman! He's a fucking prodigy! If you don't allow him to get experience now, when I'm nearby, he could well end up dead later!"

Harald sat upon the dais in his audience chambers, "And he's ten! Fucking ten years old, and you're asking me to allow him, my only son and heir, to run off and play hero to a bunch of commoners who can't handle a simple goblin horde!"

Leera clenched her fists, "Unless you've forgotten, allow me to remind you... You hired me to teach him. And I've done that. But he's still reckless - an issue that can only be truly remedied by experience. And further, those 'commoners' are the ones that pay your fucking tax! They supply everything for you so you don't have to go till the land yourself, you stuck-up prick!"

Harald's eyes widened, "You dare insult me in my castle, you knife-eared bitch?!"

Leera met his gaze, "Damn straight... Send your guards after me. I'll cut them down and use the bloodied blade to slice that silver serpent's tongue from your mouth. Arland NEEDS this, Harald. And you have no right to deny-"

"NO RIGHT?! HE'S MY SON, LEST YOU'VE FORGOTTEN!"

Arland ran in, holding up his hands between the two of them, "Leera, stop! Father, listen-"

"No, I'm done listening." He stood and stepped off his dais. Arland quickly ran through all the options in his mind before settling on one. He drew his sword, "Father, I challenge you. If I win, I'll travel with Leera. Should you win, however, I'll stay under your tutelage and she'll travel alone from this day hence."

Harald looked back, "Nice try. I know damned well how quick you are with that sword, but I also know you haven't learned the delicate art of holding back."

Arland set his jaw, "Then choose a champion. That's a right of nobles in trial by combat. Have me face your best man. Have me face Teit."

Harald stopped in his tracks, "Teit? You think you could stand toe to toe with him? He's slain more foes than breaths you've taken."

"Should he win, there's no life for me in swordplay. Whatever condition I emerge in will be my punishment for my failure."

Leera couldn't believe her ears. She stepped up to Arland, "Wait, you don't have to do this, Arland. We'll find another way to convince him."

The young man smiled up at his master, "No, we wouldn't have. Arguing simply makes him more stubborn. All you did was convince him his choice was correct. Leaving this as the only way out."

Harald sighed, growing weary of the matter, "Fine. If you can beat Teit, I'll concede that traveling with Leera will give you the experience you need to effectively use what she's taught you. Courtyard tomorrow. And Arland, son... No matter what happens, I love you. You're my boy. I never wanted things to come to this. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."