"Again," Gregor commanded.
My muscles had melted into slush long ago and my breath was coming out in ragged gasps, but I hefted my sword from where it laid abandoned on the ground. Wrapping my bruised and blistered fingers around the hilt, I let out a grunt of exertion and swung. The boulder shuddered at the impact and a large crack appeared on the rough, gray surface, but the stone itself remained intact.
The corners of Gregor's wrinkled mouth turned down. "Again."
I fell to my knees coughing and gasping, sword clattering to the ground beside me. My lungs burned with each breath and my fingers twitched painfully. I spared a fleeting glance around the training yard to note my progress. The floor was littered with dust and rubble, all that remained of the dozens of boulders that had been smashed to bits earlier, a sight which would make any unwary bystander assume there had been a landslide.
On a regular day, this much should have been merely a warm-up for the real training, practicing technique and honing my precision with the sword. Unfortunately for me, today was one of Gregor's infamous physical work out regiments.
Not for the first time that day, I wondered if Gregor had ever been to Hel, and if he emulated his training after the torture he saw there. First had been swimming for hours with weights tied to my ankles. Then lifting each and every one of the boulders from their original perches in the woods to the arena. Hours upon hours of different, but all equally grueling, exercises later, came the boulder smashing.
Out of the corner of my eye, I also noticed a wisp of a person observing me from the shadows: Little Finn, peering at me from a spot behind the stables. The little boy's eyes were wide as saucers, and his mouth hung open in amazement. He was failing miserably at staying hidden, although he either didn't seem to notice or didn't care. For whatever reason, the six year old had been following me around like a lost puppy the past few weeks, and I couldn't shake him... Alright, perhaps I just couldn't bring myself to scare him off. He was too young to see the scandal of looking up to a woman, too innocent to be disgusted. It felt nice to have a fan for once.
Gregor's eyes narrowed dangerously at my hesitation. In my mind I knew I had to get up if I didn't want to be told to do it all over again, but my body simply wouldn't listen to me.
I reached out to grab Spoon's hilt but hissed and recoiled as soon as my bloodied fingers bent. I ground my teeth together harshly, feeling the familiar grate of bone on bone along my tongue. Ingrid said that some day I'd wear my teeth down to the quick if I didn't quit the habit, and she was probably right. But the motion always helped to calm me down under stress and I couldn't find the motivation to give it up. I'd probably be long dead before it became any sort of nuisance anyway.
My lips quirked into a wry grin as I thought of what Ingrid would think. But your teeth will be hideous! She'd say, scandalized. As if the condition of my teeth would make the slightest difference to my appearance. It was funny really.
Ignoring the burning in my muscles, I pushed myself to my feet. Pulling back one fist, I let it fly forward without restraint. The hand went straight through the rock and the whole structure slowly crumbled and fell to pieces.
Gregor frowned and shook his head in disappointment. "Discipline, Brynhildr," He scolded me. "You must learn patience as well as strength and skill."
With a growl of frustration, I stalked away from the gnarled old trainer. I took a cloth rag to wipe away the sweat dripping down my face and undid the clip that had just barely been able to tame my hair. The big red curls bounced up and down happily as I set them free. People were starting to look. They always looked.
"U-um..."
My head whipped around at the small voice from behind me, and it squeaked. It was Finn, looking half in awe and half terrified. I was taller than most of the full-grown men in the castle, and I certainly towered over the annoying little boy.
"P-prin... princess..." He gulped nervously. "Princess Ingrid has requested your presence." He managed.
I arched a brow. "What for?"
"A-a fitting, she said."
I groaned loudly, and Finn wisely took it as his cue to flee. "What now?" I growled to myself, already marching off to see what whim my sister had taken fancy to today.