Days later, Octavian took me down to the arena for my first actual sword lesson taken by a veteran from the city who introduced himself as Flymn. He ordered us into pairs to practice sparring.

It didn't take long for him to come and pick on me as I faught an older camper.

"You're weak." He told me as sweat dripped from my forhead and my arms rang with vibrations from my opponents heavy blows.

"Thanks for that." I said, grittimg my teeth and lifting my sword to meet my partner's blade.

"You're not trained, you need to work harder." He noted, circling our match.

"You're just full of revelations today, aren't you?" I retorted as the fight continued on.

"You need to practice. " Flynn said.

I gasped as pain sparked along the back of my hand and my sword clattered to the ground.

I had lost.

I walked away towards the medical supplies and Flynn followed me. "What do you want?" I snapped.

"You're weak." He repeated.

"That has been mentioned. Oh, and you're so helpful, distracting me from the fight like that." I said, wrapping a bandage around the bleeding wound on my hand and attempting to tie it off one-handed.

"Let me." He took my hand and tyed a knot with a finesse unthinkable from a guy so huge. "I'm sorry for distracting you but you need to know that you're a natural with that sword. But natural talent won't make you strong, which you need to be to survive here."

"Lesson learnt." I took my hand back from him. "Now go teach."

He grinned and jogged back to the other campers, leaving me deep in thought; if he thought I was weak, then I had no choice but to be strong.

---

I slipped out of the barracks late that night, determined to prove Flynn wrong and be strong. I jogged in silence to the arena and flicked on a few lights so I could see around the training dummies.

I began to beat them again and again.

Fists.

Feet.

Elbows.

Knees.

My yells of exertion and the sounds of flesh meeting stuffing echoed throughout the concrete building.

I was not weak. I was not small. I was not timid.

My fists could bleed, my feet could blister and my muscles could scream, but I would be strong.

Houdrs of hurt later I stumbled back to the barracks and collapsed in my bunk, asleep before I hit the pillow.

---

Weeks of lessons passed, weeks of secret practices went by, but I never saw Flynn again. He was replaced by a new trainer; a woman named Jenna who was far more harsh and ruthless.

You could say that all that practice was for nothing, you could say that it would have been smart to give up. But I didn't because I remembered what Flynn told me about talent not being everything, so if anything I worked harder.

I beat myself blue every night and I practiced everything for the simple reason that I had someone to prove wrong.

I threw my javelin longer and stronger.

I swung my sword harder and faster.

I shot arrows quicker and farther.

No matter what it took, I woukd do it.

I would do it until I was the best.

Notes

This chapter's a bit longer because it was written over quite a few days, but it's really just setting the plot up for the actual climax. Sorry if I'm not going into as much detail in a need to pass time quickly but, yeah, everything is for a purpose and it will work out in the end!

Hope you all had/are having a great Easter weekend!

- Phoebe :)