His sword nearly pierced my side, but I was quick to turn and deflect his next swing. With each attempted strike and block my arms grew heavier and heavier. Sweat became slick on my neck.

“You are quite experienced,” I said to him, using the brief pause to take a breath.

“I’ve been trained by the best… as you are,” he replied, tossing his weapon between hands.

I lunged forward bringing my sword down upon him, but he was swift to counter, knocking me backwards, almost to my backside.

I scowled, spitting on the ground near his feet before our blades met once again.

“Do you ever tire?” I managed out between focused and laboured pants.

“Why? You seem to be doing well.”

Not all well as I would like. My master would reprimand me if he were here. But he is not here, so I am left to fight this man until he tires or I am killed. Maybe he will have mercy and let me go.

Swing, block, strike, parry. A horrible cycle.

After attempting a rather impossible hit, I skidded backwards towards the edge of the clearing we’d been sparring in.

“Do not run away. You’re a decent competitor! Equals are hard to find nowadays.” He said, glaring.

He overestimates my skill, that is clear. I guess my acting skills prevailed. Thanks to my mother I’m sure.

I sprinted into the evergreen forest, unsure of my destination. When I get back to the temple I will be ridiculed terribly for fleeing, but mortification is better than death in any place… I think.

“Until another day!” I called out before disappearing further into the brush.