Merek's Ascendance by Andrew Lashway Page A

not to let his excitement shine through entirely, but it was impossible for even him to keep the smile off of his face.
                  Maybe he’d learn to use a sword! Shoot an arrow from a bow! Get to wear armor of some kind!
                  Oh yes, Merek was very excited.
                  “Well, come on pup!”
                  The call came from the largest man Merek had ever seen. He was at least seven feet tall and he was a mountain of muscle. Merek wondered briefly how he even fit into his sky blue armor.
                  “That’s you, new guy,” someone said from the bed next to him. Merek turned and came face to face with a woman who had a wild mess of brown hair that spread in every direction. She was slender and dressed in only a simple gown, though her red plated armor was sloppily placed at the foot of her bed. She had a small nose and wide blue eyes, and her smile was infectious.
                  “Out of bed! There’s no time for laziness!”
                  Merek jumped out of bed immediately, dressing quickly. As he wrapped his cloak around his shoulders, he looked up just in time to catch a flying wooden object that would have impacted with his skull had he not.
                  “Well, your reflexes aren’t terrible. That’s a good sign.”
                  Merek didn’t know who the blue-armored man was, but he got the feeling the two of them were either going to get along well, or they wouldn’t get along at all. There would be no in-between.
                  Merek looked down at the object in his hand, noticing it was a wooden sword. Suddenly remembering something else, he looked around for his actual sword, but it was nowhere to be found.
                  “You’ll get your weapons back when I’m certain you can handle yourself in a fight, when I’m sure you won’t be a threat to your squadmates. Am I clear?”
                  Merek nodded once. “Yes sir,” he said, holding the wooden sword in an underhanded grip.
                  “Good. Now follow me.”
                  Merek did just that without looking away from the man’s broad back, deciding to give the man the benefit of the doubt for now. He was probably hard on everyone, to make sure that they were all in top shape.
                  Or he was a prat, and Merek would then respond accordingly.
                  “Now,” the man said when they emerged outside. Merek smiled, recognizing the training grounds of the knights. There were stuffed sacks with buckets on their heads, indicating enemy troops. There were red and white circles, targets, painted on their chests. Those same targets were painted on eight wooden boards, and they all had multiple arrows shot into them. Off to the side, there was also an elevated platform leading to a mess of ropes and handles and a wall of wood with different outcroppings nailed into it. Merek was pretty sure it was used to challenge the knights physically as they ran the course. 
    “I am the Trainer,” the man continued, “and until you prove yourself to me, that’s all you will call me. Am I understood?”
                  “Yes sir.”
                  “Good. Now, stand over by that white mark, and stand ready. This training is going to hurt. I am going to hurt you multiple times over the course of your training, and I will not apologize for it. This is the best way I’ve found of getting you little ruffians to actually be proficient. Am I understood?”
                  “Yes sir.”
                  Merek hurried to his mark, though he had no clue how he was supposed to be ready. He had never held a sword a day in his life.
                  Not that that small fact was going to dampen his excitement.
                  “Sword