Training Montage (With More Falling Down Than Usual)

The next morning, the sun spilled gold across Willowbrook, highlighting the dew on cobblestones and the faint shimmer of magic lingering in the air. Mia stretched in her borrowed bed, the lingering aroma of moon-berry brew still clinging to her senses. Her muscles ached in the way only a full day of unpredictable combat could produce, but the soreness felt almost… satisfying.

Elena was already waiting outside her door, clipboard in hand and eyes bright with anticipation. "Today we push the limits," she declared, as if announcing the arrival of a storm. "Traditional heroes spend years mastering swordplay, learning ancient techniques, and studying the art of combat. You're going to learn to win fights by being too weird for your opponents to handle."

Mia yawned, still shaking off the effects of the brew. The bed had been more comfortable than anything in her old apartment, and the lavender-scented room smelled of adventure rather than dust and despair. "Define 'too weird.'"

"Well, for starters, you're going to learn to fight while doing other things. Most heroes focus entirely on combat when they're in a fight. You're going to learn to multitask."

Theron had set up what looked like the world's most dangerous obstacle course behind the village—a chaotic tangle of hay bales, wooden posts, and, ominously, a table set with a full tea service right in the middle of it all.

"Please tell me I don't have to fight while serving tea," Mia said, eyebrows raised.

"Close," Elena grinned. "You're going to learn to have a conversation while fighting. Most enemies expect heroes to be grimly focused and dramatically silent. You're going to confuse them by being chatty."

Kael emerged from behind a large tree, carrying practice weapons. "We've talked to the other guardians from neighboring villages. They've agreed to help with your training by playing the role of various enemies you might face."

"And they're okay with the whole 'be weird' approach?"

"They're curious," Kael admitted. "Guardian training is usually very formal and serious. This is… different."

Over the next hour, Mia discovered that her complete lack of formal training was somehow both a massive disadvantage and a surprising asset. She couldn’t execute proper sword forms to save her life, but she also didn’t telegraph her attacks the way trained fighters did.

"Stop thinking so much," Elena called as Mia faced off against Kael in their first practice bout. "Just let the sword do its thing."

"The sword doesn't have a thing!" Mia protested, barely deflecting one of Kael's careful strikes. "It's a piece of metal with jewelry on it!"

"Actually," Kael said thoughtfully, stepping back, "I think that might be the problem. You're treating it like a regular sword."

Elena nodded. "The Jeweled Blade isn’t just a weapon—it’s a conduit for the magic of Eldoria itself. It responds to intention, not technique."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means stop trying to fight like a warrior and start fighting like yourself."

Mia lowered her sword, frustration bubbling over. "I don't know how to fight like myself! I work in data entry and argue with customer service representatives! My greatest combat experience is battling with a printer that jams at the worst possible moment!"

"And how do you handle the printer?" Elena asked, voice carefully measured.

"I… what?"

"When the printer jams and you’re on a deadline and everything’s going wrong—what do you do?"

Mia thought for a moment. "I usually try three or four different approaches at once, get increasingly creative, and keep talking to it until something works."

Elena’s smile was positively predatory. "Exactly. Now try that approach with sword fighting."

The next bout was a revelation. Instead of worrying about stances or technique, Mia improvised. When Kael came at her with a high strike, she ducked and jabbed at his ribs. When he adjusted, she hooked his ankle with her foot while simultaneously batting his sword aside with her free hand.

"This is completely unorthodox," Kael panted after five minutes of chaos.

"Is it working?" Mia asked, grinning despite sweat dripping down her brow.

"I have no idea what you’re going to do next, and I’ve been training for fifteen years," he admitted.

"Then it’s working."

By the end of the day, Mia could fight while chatting ("So, Kael, favorite color? Mine's blue—oh, watch the sword there—maybe green"), solve riddles mid-combat, and even manage a meal during sparring—a skill Elena claimed was essential for long battles.

"You know," Theron remarked that evening as they gathered around the tavern fireplace, "I’ve never seen anything quite like your fighting style."

"Is that good or bad?" Mia asked.

"Well, you nearly gave me a heart attack when you stopped mid-fight to adjust my practice sword, but you also landed more hits than most trained fighters would."

Elena raised her mug of moon-berry brew. "To the most unpredictable hero in Eldoria’s history."

"I'll drink to that," Mia said, though she was still processing the day. "Is all hero training this exhausting?"

"Most heroes spend months in formal training," Kael said. "You’re learning to use abilities you didn’t know you had while adapting to a completely new world. Exhaustion is understandable."

"The good news," Elena added, "is that you’re progressing faster than anyone expected. The sword really seems to be working with you rather than against you."

Mia looked down at the Jeweled Blade, worn at her side even in the tavern. Its gems pulsed gently in the firelight, almost like a heartbeat. "Sometimes I swear it’s trying to tell me something."

"Magical weapons often have their own consciousness," Elena explained. "Not quite sentience, but close. They’re drawn to compatible wielders and grow stronger with use."

"So it’s like having a really advanced AI assistant, but in sword form?"

"I don’t know what an AI assistant is, but yes—if you mean a helpful magical partner."

That night, lying in the star-painted ceiling of her room, Mia reflected on how drastically her life had shifted. Forty-eight hours ago, her worries had been rent and groceries. Now, she was a hero-in-training in a world of singing trees and opinionated swords.

The strangest part was how right it felt. Despite exhaustion, confusion, and the looming threat of an evil sorceress, she felt more herself than she had in years—as if all the frustration and restless energy of her old life had finally found a proper outlet.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. "Come in."

Kael entered with two steaming mugs. "Thought you might like some more moon-berry brew before sleep. Helps with the muscle soreness."

"Thanks." Mia accepted the mug, scooting to make room for him at the edge of the bed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why do you seem so relaxed now? In the forest, you were all formal and proclamation-y, but here you’re… normal."

Kael was quiet for a moment, staring into his mug. "I’ve been training to meet the chosen hero my entire life. I imagined it as dramatic, world-changing, full of destiny. But you…" He gestured helplessly. "You asked for coffee and complained about being tired. You made it feel less like an epic quest and more like… life."

"Is that bad?"

"It’s the best thing that could’ve happened. I was so focused on being a proper Guardian that I forgot being a proper person mattered. You reminded me of that."

Mia felt a warm flush unrelated to moon-berry brew. "Well, I’m glad my inability to be dramatic is working out for someone."

"Your ability to be genuine in impossible circumstances is remarkable. Don’t underestimate that."

After Kael left, Mia lay back with a smile. Tomorrow would bring more training, more challenges, and probably more situations she was unprepared for. But for the first time in years, she actually looked forward to finding out what would happen next.

Outside, the melody oaks began their evening song, and the Jeweled Blade hummed softly in harmony from its place on the nightstand. Everything was strange, new, and utterly unlike anything she’d ever known.

It was perfect.