Mockery

I swing the saber again, trying to replicate what I think are decent moves. It's still very awkward, but each attempt feels a bit more natural. I can feel the weight of the blade, the tension in my muscles as I guide it through the air. It's a start…

"... Let's see what you're made of." I say to myself, letting the blade rest in its sheath.

Just then, there's a knock on the door of my changing room. The sound startles me out of my thoughts, and I quickly turn toward it.

"Master Quinlan?" comes a voice from the other side. It's one of the servants, likely here to lead me to the training room.

"Come in."

The door opens, and a young servant steps inside, bowing politely before speaking. "The training room is ready, Master Quinlan. If you would please follow me."