Training.

Zaruth wakes up from his cave bedroom. His sits up, trying to recall everything that happened yesterday. It all seems surreal. From the fight, to the interrogation and to the true reality of the kingdom... it all seem to fake to be true. But its not. He pinched himself multiple times already.

A knock on the door brought Zaruth's attention to it. A knock came again and Zaruth gave permission. Amelie, with her bright orange hair that seem reminiscent of the sunset came in.

"Get up kid, its time to make yourself useful here."

Zaruth stood up at her command and walked on the jagged wet stone floor that pricked at his feet. The moist feeling also send shivers up his spine.

He got out of his room and into the hallway with Amelie. They were walking to a location where they train and keep theirselves fit while conversing with one another.

"Back then, you moved pretty swiftly and accurately. Have you had any training before this?" Amelie asks.

"Uhm, no. Not really. It was all by instinct," came the swift reply.

She paused. Slowly turning her body to face Zaruth, a shocked face appears. Amelie hadn't seen someone before who could move like he did without any prior training.

"Your parents did not even teach you anything?"

"I don't have one. I live in the orphanage."

Amelie continued walking forward, having learnt new things about Zaruth. Soon, they arrived at the training area. She opened the wooden door and the first things Zaruth could see are the bunches of weapons laid perfectly organised next to one another on a rack. From swords to bows to large machetes, there was seemingly every single weapon.

Zaruth could also see the what looked like heavy items that he thinks is used for heavy lifting. Upon actually entering the room and closer inspection, he sees dust on the weapons rack, as if it has not been used for a long time.

"Zaruth! Here, focus alright?" Amelie demanded.

Nodding his head, Zaruth followed her instructions. First were a set of stretches. Zaruth could feel his muscles being pulled, and it being heated. After a few stretches, he realised that his body was somehow not stiff, something he did not realise before. He realise that he should go out more.

Then, he was asked to follow Amelie's movements. A jab, another jab, another jab. All Zaruth felt like he did for hours were just jabs. Jab Jab Jab. Nothing else. Just jabs.

Just as he was getting tired, he had to switch it up. Now was hooks that needed to be done. Hooks Hook Hook. Left Hook, Right Hook. Zaruth was starting to doubt the legitimacy of this training, but quickly realise that he had no way to know if it was effective or not, so he brushes that thought aside. He continually followed her.

"Alright nice. Now take a rest at the seat over there. If you want water, its outside somewhere," Amelie said.

Zaruth did not need to drink, but he did need to rest. Jabbing and hooking can get pretty tiring, especially for a 10-year-old.

He finished his rest and rose up from the wooden log set beside the door and went back to Amelie, who was at the section of the room with the heavy items.

"Now Zaruth, you won't be lifting these babies till your 14, so don't get any funny ideas," Amelie said.

Truth be told, Zaruth did not want to even lift these 'babies'. He shudders at the thought of a very jacked and ripped Zaruth.

"For now, just stick to push ups, sit ups, and the likes. You know what they are right?"

Zaruth thinks he know, nevertheless he nods his head with enthusiasm and went to the floor to start his push ups.

After doing two push ups, he was stopped.

"No, no, no! That- that. Oh my gosh. You don't know how to do push ups?!" Amelie asks in disbelief.

"I guess not, since you told me so," he replied cheekily.

"You cheeky bastard! Let me show you how to do it properly."

He sees her dropping to the floor with her hands shoulder-width apart. Her body is like a mountain like what Zaruth did, rather at an angle. She looks straight up and went down and up in one smooth motion.

Zaruth got down to attempt what he saw, but fails horribly so when he failed to get up. He feels a pressure on his back. He turns his head just enough to see Amelie pushing him down.

"Go down more!"

Zaruth tries to go down more, then back up and realises how hard it was to complete just one push ups.

"Good, now do 20."

Zaruth faints internally at the instructions.

After 20 tiring push ups, he could not feel his arms. Like jellyfish, he wiggles it seeing his flabby arms flap in the air. He touches the bicep area and thinks he feels some sort of muscle. He grins like a dog.

A slap brought him out of his amusement.

"Stop smiling and get down to the sit ups, you child."

He stops smiling and lies on his back. He puts his leg in front of him and bend it towards him. He struggles to attempt to sit up using his core and has to use his hands.

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Beads of sweat drops from his forehead and arms and legs and body. His pants get harder and louder and more frequent as each second passes. His heart beats faster than ever before. His body bruised, with splotches of bluish purple. Streaks of red blood flows with his sweat.

Zaruth stares down Amelie, who has just beaten the shit out of Zaruth 'to teach him a lesson'. If anybody else apart from Floroja sees this, they would have alerted the local guardsmen.

"Ahh, c'mon Zaruth... where was the boy who saved me from before?" she asks innocently.

"De...dea...dead from bef... before," he says as he huffs and puffs.

"Well, I guess we can stop here. Go meet Gyllenhaal to get your bruises patched up."

Amelie walks out the room, leaving an exhausted Zaruth on the floor.

Zaruth rethinks his life choices.

He thinks he will live a better life if he were back at the orphanage.

He knows he will.

But memories of Alexander telling the truth of the kingdom.

He wanted change.

If he were at the orphanage, there will be no change.

If he is in Floroja, there may be a chance.

He wants that chance.