Sang's Dragon

Chapter Three

Wil snorted. "You always have to work them up, don't you?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I? They act like love sick mutts, it's disgusting," I said with a grimace. I'd never stalk a man the way they did, even when I met one that captured my interest. 

The boys chuckled and nodded their heads. We had many conversations like this before. Those girls were nothing but annoying pests to every man here and had been told that many, many times in the past.

I got up and began stretching out my limbs, preparing myself for what was sure to be an excruciating work-out. I should've known better than to let myself slack off and make excuses for being too busy. At least while I was hunting, I could keep practicing my knife throwing and archery, but I needed partners to keep up on combat training.

"Which one of you dares to challenge me first?" I joked. Hopefully it was Derek because I could usually keep up with him, but Wil was far more experienced and at times could be a lethal opponent.

Derek smirked. "Me. Get ready, Blondie."

I rolled my eyes and strolled toward the platform, Derek following. "Suit yourself."

"Don't hurt yourself, Sang!" Wil hollered from behind us. "It's been a while so take it easy. Start slow, then work yourself up. We'll see how far you've dragged behind and take it from there."

I looked over my shoulder and watched as Wil took a seat at the bench. He always coached me from the sidelines, doing all he could to help me become stronger and more efficient. Before I turned back around, I noticed someone I had never seen before. He was a tall and muscular looking man with short, reddish-brown hair. From what I could tell from this distance, he was very handsome, but still intimidating to look at with the bulging muscles on his arms. He must've been from the king's army and was probably just passing by.

"Ready?" I heard Derek ask.

I turned my attention back to him. "One moment."

I gathered my hair and put it into a braid. The blonde locks felt soft and silky compared to its usual mess, but thanks to Janice, I now had a new soap that conditioned it more effectively than the stuff I made use of. Once I was finished, I unsheathed my sword from its resting area on my back and put myself into a fighting stance in front of my opponent. I made sure to keep a slight bend to my knees and relaxed the muscles in my arms.

"Ready." I slightly bowed my head while Derek did the same. It was a sign of respect among fighters, but only in training. 

Lunging fast, Derek aimed a jab at my mid-section, which I easily dodged by sidestepping to the right. I tried to keep my focus on his feet just as much as keeping it on the sharp weapon in his hand, but keeping my attention in two separate places while trying to avoid a blade was harder than it looked. Derek didn't hesitate as he arched a mighty blow toward my neck, so I brought my blade up to meet his. A sharp sounding zing pierced the air as metal met metal. The heavy impact caused my muscles to strain and my bones to rattle.

Deciding to take my advance, I ducked down and shot forward at the same time, intending to land a blow with the base of my sword on his shins. Sadly, he jumped in the air to avoid it.

"Sloppy!" Wil barked. "For that move to work, you need your opponent tired. Keep going."

I tucked that piece of information away and continued my attacks. After a few strikes not landing, it was obvious to me that being on offense wasn't working so I let Derek switch me. The thing with Derek was that he gave too much away with his facial expressions, allowing me to predict his moves. He was a hard fighter but he relied too much on brute strength, not speed nor agility, which were both essential when it came to the art of swordsmanship.