Sword of stars

Crap Hits the Ceiling, if there was one

The Queen kept teaching our class for the next three months. Every day was drills, running, and standing at attention. Only a month later did our class realize how well we were progressing.

When I would fall, she would leave me to pick myself back up. She did it with all the students. It was only when we would all go home was when I was pushed to my limits.

She would have her and me in the garden practicing. "Can't we just finish this tomorrow?"

"I noticed you don't move your feet while you fight." I was in the ready position. She struck then tripped me with a counterattack. I landed back flat in the dirt. The wind was knocked out of me.

She stood over me and held out her hand. "When you are in battle, there is no 'finishing it tomorrow' You will be pushed to your limit and then some. It never stops till victory is won. You'll think you've got nothing left, that's when you've got to pull every last ounce of strength you've got left or die, but it needs to be controlled."

I caught my breath, standing with my hands on my knees. She set a hand on my back. "Your doing very well. I'm proud of you." She kissed the temple on my head, then walked inside.

"Yep. Everything is backward here," I thought to myself.

The sunrise brought a surprise. Our class all walked into the coliseum to see an array of wooden platforms and swinging ropes, bridges, and a sheer wall to climb. It covered the whole auditorium.

"Students, grab your practice equipment." The Queen came around a wooden post.

"Should I even ask how?"

"I hired some carpenters to build overnight," she informed. I looked at the obstacle course.

We spent the next several hours Climbing, jumping, and meandering around the agility course. We were split up into two teams. Playing capture the flag on an agility course was harder than it sounds. A few of the others fell off the rope bridge and hit the ground hard. Both teams were bottle-necked on the bridge. I had fallen to the back of the attack on our side.

I looked out to where the Queen stood. She looked a little on the irritating side. Her hands were behind her back and a brow was cocked. I looked around to see if there was another way to the opponent's flag.

"If we couldn't get over the bridge?" I thought, "maybe we could go under it."

I sheathed my sword and swung up under the bridge. The rules were we couldn't touch the ground. If we touched the ground, we had to run twenty laps around the whole coliseum. Lucky for me the rope swing was three times my height. I did the monkey bars across the entire bridge. My hands were stepped on every few feet. I held tight as I made my way across, ignoring the pain.

I made my way across and swung up. No one paid me any attention. I finished the course and grabbed the flag. I put my fingers to my lips and blew a loud whistle and everyone stopped to look. I held that flag up high and my team cheered raising their weapons.

My hands had turned purple and throbbed. They had been stepped on so many times. I dropped the flag in front of the Queen as I walked to the armory. I took a bath and change my clothes which were much welcomed. Sitting on one of the benches, I rubbed a healing balm that they kept in stalk in the armory and began to bandage my bruised hands.

The shaking of my hands didn't help as I tried to wrap them. They ached too much. The door creaked open. I didn't look up. I did see in the corner of my eye the unmistakable silver armor of the Queen. "Here let me help," she knelt in front of me and started wrapping my hands from scratch. She meticulously wrapped it around each finger.