A mystic forest

The sun shines brilliantly, with just a few clouds dotting the sky. The air holds the perfect warmth of a summer day, and the forest is alive with bustling animal activity. The trees sway gently in the breeze, their turquoise leaves adding a touch of enchantment to the scene. In a quiet clearing, two young men engage in a spirited session of swordplay.

Right now, the guy with short red hair and a twirled moustache is on the defensive. He's of average height, with an athletic build. His footwork is pretty fancy, helping him dodge most attacks instead of blocking. It almost looks like he's dancing. When he does block, it's precise and small, just enough to redirect his opponent's sword.

His opponent, taller and more solidly built, is the one on the attack. His moves aren't slow, but they lack finesse. His black hair's tied in a ponytail, and he's clean-shaven, but you can see the frustration on his face. The fight goes on for a while until the attacker gets fed up, tosses his sword aside, and plops down under a tree.

The smaller one picks up both swords, leans them against the tree, and joins his friend. After a while, he says, "Hey, Eric, I'm kinda stuck here. If I go easy on you, you complain you're not learning. If I really go all out, you get frustrated because you can't hit me."

Eric looks up and says, "It's not that I can't hit you. It's that I can't seem to improve."

"Why would you need to improve? Your life's already laid out for you. You're the miller's son, destined to take over, and that makes you one of the most powerful figures in town, right under the mayor. Look at me, I'm just Thorian, a guard."

"But I want to get out from this village. I yearn to explore the world, witness breathtaking landscapes, and experience foreign cultures like Captain Finian."

Thorian shakes his head. "You know, Finian got lucky. Most folks have no choice but to join the army, and that's often where they meet their end. I was content to become a guard, or else I might be dead by now." by the end of his voice got darker and one could find a small amount of aggression.

Eric gazes at Thorian, realizing that his dreams of leaving the village and adventuring aren't shared in the same way. "I apologize. I truly appreciate your training, Thorian. But the question of why I'm not improving still lingers."

Thorian twists his moustache thoughtfully, recalling the fight. "You have already mastered the basics, but I'd say you're leaning too much on strength in your swings. Precision and speed matter too. But hey, that's enough for today. We can work on it next time."

With those words, they both stand up, gather their belongings, and step into the forest along a narrow path. They strolled through the forest, sharing stories of days gone by and recalling past battles. The sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting a warm glow. The journey wasn't particularly long, and by evening, they found themselves at the forest's edge.