Tiara… or fucking Krystal, I suppose, must’ve been trusted by the royal family a whole lot, because once my meeting with the king was over, they just left me to wander the castle trying to find out where the hell I was supposed to go.

After finding the ballroom, the kitchen, and at least seven bedrooms, a guard caught me poking around and naturally questioned my motives.

“Sir Krystal, won’t you be headed to the training ground to meet with your new squad?”

I straightened up and tried to look like, well, a knight and focused on my inner main character, “Ah. Yes. Of course. Right. The training grounds. That makes sense. And I know exactly where that is…” I paused through the lie until I figured out how to be clever, “...but do you? I want to make sure all the guards know the quickest way to the training grounds. King’s orders.”

The guard stared at me questioningly but popped up into a salute. “Of course. Makes sense to me. This way.”

All right. I was getting the hang of this acting thing, I think.

He led me down the stairs, through a billion halls, out the back door, through the gardens, and to the training grounds. They weren’t much more than a large patch of dirt in the middle of the castle grounds, with rings carved into the dirt and a collection of weapons and shields stacked on unorganized wooden stands around the edges.

Perfect. This would be my battleground.

I’d done so much fight training in my day. I’d fit right into this.

Swords clashed in the distance. Armor clanked as knights practiced their moves, unconcerned by me at all. Great. So these would be the folks I saved the world with. They didn’t look too shabby.

“Oh great… I mean, aweso–uhm, superb? I shall go say… uh… greet my tea–squad who will–shall definitely save the world, together… with me.”

Maybe I wasn’t so good at this acting thing, after all…

“Yes, we are all counting on you, Sir Krystal, but your squad isn’t here yet.” The guard said, sounding like he didn’t think anything weird of my… acting…

“Of course they are not! I mean, when they get here! I shall!” My voice was getting a weird octave higher at every end, the harder I tried to act.

“I’m sure you will, Sir Krystal,” The guard said with a bow, “Did I do okay on your test?”

“My what—oh! Yes. Uh… amaz—quality. Top marks. The king will be pleased. Now return to your post?” At least this time, my voice stayed at its normal pitch.

The guard gave a curt nod and walked away without another word, leaving me to study the knights who were, apparently, not my team practicing around the grounds.

The grounds were divided up into multiple sections with circles where knights could practice their footwork. Off to the right, two were going at it in full armor with swords that looked hella heavy for practicing.

Might as well see how they do it here. Maybe I could pick up a few tricks. They were real knights after all… sort of. 

Clank! 

One knight swung his sword as the other blocked it but nearly got knocked onto his ass. Why hadn’t he just stepped to the side a bit to fix his footwork and make him more stable?

Clank!

That strike was a sloppy one. What was that meant to hit?

Clank!

The knight went right for the head of the other, smacking against his helmet. That had to hurt, even with the protection. They weren’t playing it easy here at all—

Stab!

The first knight struck the second right through his abdomen, through the armor, and out the other side.

Holy shit!!

The second knight fell and the first wiped the blood off his blade.

What the fuck?

What kind of training was this?

The knight passed by me, not looking stirred up at all.   

“You just… killed him?” I couldn’t stop myself from saying as he walked.

He turned his head to look at me through the slits in the helmet. “Yes.”

“Was he an enemy?”

“No. Why would you think that?”

“Because you killed him!”

“How else are we supposed to train for survival if not surviving? If he wasn’t good enough to survive in training, he wouldn’t have been good enough to survive in a real fight. Shouldn’t you know this by now?”

“That’s ridiculous! There are so many ways to train without killing your opponent! The point is to train them to be able to survive, not kill them before they get the chance to learn!”

“Is there a problem here?” A booming voice behind me asked. I turned around to see a huge, burly, man. His armor clearly showed a high rank with intricate details on the shoulders, an engraved emblem on the chest plate, and a cape that seemed so finely woven that it would have cost a fortune for just a tiny square of that in what I assumed this time period was.

He held himself with an air of authority that clearly intimidated the knight next to me. Everything from how straight his shoulders were to how he held his helmet under his arm screamed, “Hello. I am in charge here,” and I couldn’t help but respect a display of confidence like that. There was something to admire in this man. 

Oh. And his face was okay too, I guess.

“Ye-ye-yes Knight Commander Zantar. This woman seemed upset that I killed someone while training.”

“I was simply pointing out the flaws of diminishing your numbers instead of training them to survive. It’s barbaric,” The passion pushed through any reservations I had about being a fish out of water here.

“This woman, Sir Edis, is a second in command and you would do right to give her your respect,” the commander said to the murder-knight. 

“Thank you. I think if we—”

“I, however, am first in command, therefore I can challenge her to a duel for disrespecting the king’s chivalry.”

“A what—?” 

“Choose your weapon and meet me on the battlefield.”

“But… why?”

“That’s how we settle things here,” said Sir Edis, or whoever he was with a stupid smile under his helmet. “Prepare to die.”

“But… I just wanted to…” but the commander was already long gone, standing in one of the circles with his sword out ready to take my head off with it.

Well. Fuck.

The thought of running did occur, but what good would it have done me? I’d never get to the end of the story and I’d be stuck here when the world ended. Not great. If I was going to die either way, I might as well die fighting… right?

He wasn’t a real person anyway. It wouldn’t be murder if I won, I think. Maybe.

“But, your honor, he was a storybook character” should hold up in court.

All right.

Let’s fucking do this.

I unsheathed my sword and met Mr. Commander on the court. 

“Today, you will learn respect for your fellow Knights,” the Commander said as he lowered into a ready position. It was not as stable as he clearly thought it was. Not with that much weight on him from the armor. 

“You know, I really think not killing them is respecting them…” I also prepared to fight, but much cleaner and stronger, if I did say so myself. 

The Commander smacked his helmet onto his head and it struck me that I did not have any kind of face protection other than the sun’s reflection off my vibrant hair.

“Um.. hey. Could I get a—”

“Begin!” called Sir Edis.

Okay. Nope. Nothing unfair about that.

Regardless, time for action.

Matty, I hope you’ve got my back.

In choreographed fights, it’s about making it look cool for the camera, and not to win.

Now, it is about striking first, striking hard, and striking true.

I leap at him, not giving him a second to prepare for impact.

He avoids me, though it’s clear his balance is as off as I anticipated. With a swing to his side, I force him to step back and create distance between us. I turn back around to face him. 

He is already breathing hard under that helmet. 

I got this.

I rush forward, keeping my eye on his movements. His stance is still too unbalanced. He’s gripping his sword too tightly and at an awkward angle.

The way he holds his sword, out to the side instead of close to his body, is not only leaving his face wide open for attack, but also putting his center of gravity further off kilter.

This is the commander? He might be strong, but he doesn’t even know the basics.

He swings at me, fast and hard. Damn. He certainly does have strength. His sword goes for me and only instincts save my neck. Literally. I roll out of the path of his sword, immediately regaining my stance.

Fuck, I could actually die here. 

He really means to kill me.

Better end it quickly.

Without killing him.

There is a point to prove.

I let him take another swing at me; the trajectory is easy to follow and easy to avoid. With a step and a turn, I get behind him while he’s trying to re-direct.

This feels too easy.

He is mid-swing, putting all his weight on his right leg. His balance is weak. All it takes is a good, solid kick to his right side and he keels right over.

Shit, my shin hurts.

Not letting him recuperate, I step on his hand which still holds the sword. He won’t be using that hand for a while now.

I tip down my own sword and point it at his throat.

“I win. And you didn’t even have to die. Is that respectful enough for you?” I say with a smile.

Fuck, I feel great.

I can see the fight in his eyes dissipate, and I remove my sword.

It’s over.

I imagine Arri’s annoying voice yelling, “Cut!” to drag me back to reality… or whatever this was.

Cheers erupted from around us. I hadn’t even noticed that more knights had gathered to watch us fight, but it was good to have those fifteen seconds of fame I enjoyed so much.

I reached out my hand as a sign of truce and helped him up when he took it.

“Is it so bad to live to fight another day?” I asked, hoping we were on the same page now.

“I suppose a point has been made. I would be willing to hear you out if you still feel like I’m worth talking to.” The Knight Commander conceded.

“Fuck yea!” I said, “I mean, uhm, yes, that would be… uhm, much appreciated. Sir.”

I won the fight, he was willing to hear me out about safety for training, and I was pretty badass.

Maybe I wasn’t so bad at this, after all.