The wooden sword and shield given to me were heavy as hell! The shield-pan that Neil made was feather weight compared to this cumbersome shield. I can hold them both for a moment and a few minuets of break I might get the handle of it. Surely this will be a few hours of training, I mean we need to open the inn soon.

“Get up! Don't give your opponent an opening for a second!”

Or so I thought.

The sun has risen above the wall now and I haven't got a chance to rest. She held a stick that whipped me if I ever made a mistake.

I stood up gasping for air, sweat from brow, and sores from... from... dammit... I held that blasted wooden sword again.

“That's not you hold it!”

With a whip of a stick. I quickly use my left hand to grab the pummel, and my right was below the cross guard.

“Haagh!”

If I let an opening for a bit which to hell what's, and how, an opening works.

“Don't...”

She hit my head.

“Just swing like a madman!”

And hit my chest.

“Look, you're on the floor again!”

Aghh... I... Oh how I wish got that power boosting blessing Neil has been talking about. T-this... This is worst than summer at Sandy's! Which I consider the most strenuous occasion for me. But now I'd rather go back there than here.

My mother shot me again to stand up! Think of that pole as your worst enemy!

“Hehe...”

I picked myself up and remembered that summer event.

“At least they're not tourists.”

I whispered to myself as I stood up.

“Again.”

Saliva drips down as I lifted the heavy sword near to my right ear. My body and left foot bended to her liking, my right foot ready to go. I remembered that guy's face and her face afraid on that first summer jobs of hers. Turn my wrists and had my breathing heavier. I know that guy, don't go to that table, I warned her, I'll do it, I said to her. Sweeping the sword downward using the pummel to speed the swing while my right foot moves my entire body forward.

See, now you got groped, I goddamn told you not to!

I hit the pole with the end, the pervert retaliated at my aggressiveness. He called the manager. Trying once again I took a distance and did a mid guard. May then instructed me the advantages of this guard and such before letting me turn my wrist and swung the sword up and did a downward cut. Chipping off a small portion of the pole... Putting my first mark on that pole.

The sun was finally burning high. The customer said he didn't do anything and only hit me because I hit him for no reason, I should apologized for hitting him with the tray. May then gave me the heavy wicker buckler again using it like an umbrella against the invisible pole's strike when I finish a cut.

“That's enough! No more cutting. You can wound you're enemy while you get ki-- hurt... if you like!”

Thus, I learned how to hold my buckler in front and the sword just above my head, where she told me how thrusting is the best way to win a fight than cutting.

Hiding my whole body behind that buckler while I was instructed to poke that pole's knees, thigh, neck and head.

We called the cops soon afterwards, when the cctv sided with me. I was assigned at the washers that day while Jeanne was put in cashier duty. Sir Fenton promised not to tell mom when she arrives.

“Never expose yourself to the monster even if you have armour and fate, a hit from an inhumane being will be fatal. We are humans not gods, nor angels, nor heroes, or adventures.”

She said when the sun was almost at it's peak, and some soldiers were returning.

I walked Jeanne home that night, mother jeered at me for helping a beautiful girl like her, but she constantly reminded me to graduate and earn a living before giving her the title of grandmother.

“Now, then let's get washed. Shall we?”

She said with a smile while rubbing my wet, steaming, head.

****

“Pass me a pail me boy.”

Ha... I miss the graffiti ridden bathroom in our school rather than... this.

“Ah, thank you son!”

Even if the bathroom back home had no flusher, and was spacious enough for one person.

“Oh, I ate too much butter, ogghh!”

“Oh, bugger it!”

It was still haven compared to this wide, damp, no cubicle, public bathroom. It was a museum of smells worst than the un-flushed piss back in school! The seat is made out if cold stone! The men have no sense of privacy and I was throwing my business in a hole. Further more, it required two doors to leave and enter the place.

At least the bath was not bad. A large wooden basin filled with water and a hanging drape as a privacy protection. It was a million times better than the toilets.

To say the least I quickly washed my hand with soap! 21st century given soap! Even if it was the size of an eraser, on my hand was a modern soap! The innkeeper got it from some adventures she explained when she washed right next to me.

“Elfien, save some for your mother!”

Speaking of her.

“Agh!”

I quickly dove inside the large basin I was in.

“There you are again, being stingy with the soap! Give!”

She said, and still fearing a stick would sting me for not listening to her I immediately rose up and gave her the soap while looking at other way.

“Here.”

Then she washed my back. The in keep doesn't seem to respect the symbol of curtains around the basin represents. Even when getting out she was buck naked drying herself with a towel in front of me while I dress up!

“And no, I don't want to talk about her body.”

I drank my third mug of that cold distilled sheep milk. May kept offering ‘Grape juice’ which was practically watered down ale when we took breaks. Water was available but a class of larvae reserved the barrel for their P.E. class.

“Nobody asked for it, you're the one who brought it up.”

Said Roland.

“We've already seen better sights in this town. And by the way, you called her ‘mother’ when talking about your training, then you suddenly called her innkeeper at the end.”

Asked Neil as he drank his sheep's milk.

“I did?”

“Aren't they interchangeable? ”

Said Allan.

“No.”

“Either way, what's else did she teach you?”

Roland sushing the two and I felt like the most eager to hear my story.

I recalled something called stepping hot, apparently Elfien invented it, it was just dodging quick after I hit the pole. At first, when I took three or even two seconds of standing after hitting a lightning strike whip from her would activate.

“It got me 100 or so hit, I think, on first hour, but got 20 or more on the last hour of training.”

I would show them my ‘Battle scars’ but after we're done washing ourselves Serafina visited us expecting that she was needed.

And I thanked her for that, all the aches, bruises, and such, healed up by her hand and green magic. It was better than any instant pain reliever I took and I really, really thanked for that. I couldn't imagine myself surviving this whole day, or another day, without her heal. But it seems that she'll only do that once.

“Ah, is this a case of the innkeeper being jealous?”

Smirked Neil.

I think, and that's what Serafina also said to her, but May said it was because I need to endure and experience the pain myself, she explained to the priestess.

“Well, that makes sense,”

Added Roland.

“Training close quarter combat means to experience the pain of being hit, and enduring it so you can have a decisive blow to your enemy.”

“Haha, amen to that.”

Allan rubbed the back of Roland.

“Guess what's this old man doing in his whole life?”

Neil nudged at me.

Roland then crossed his arm and looked at me. And just looking at his muscles and knowing how serious he is...

“Something about law enforcement? Or military?”

My clues were what I knew; his seriousness, his advice on fighting and training and what he looks like.

“No, no, specifics, come on.”

Giggled Allan and Neil in anticipating smiles.

“Police officer?”

If not soldier.

“You owe me! Ha! You... owe me!”

Said Allan as he slammed the table and stood up and pointing Neil.

“You're a disappointment.”

Sighed Neil he dropped his head on the table and Roland laughed at him.

“I mean, it's obvious. I can imagine him being a policeman, it's not far from his face.”

And serious demeanour, and muscles.

“That's my second job, and I ain't telling you my first one.”

Roland then dropped his mug and told me if I'm fine with this.

“You have a choice to leave, and we'll here to help you.”

He added which I was taken a back myself when this is genuine concern.

“I-it's fine, it's fine. I mean it does hurt and frightening, but nothing I can handle. Besides, once I get those op powers and get those training done I am sure to be useful to you guys.”

“You heard the kid.”

Said Allan to Roland as he chug his milk.

“Alright then,”

He said standing up and tapping his wrist to Neil.

“Mmm! Right, right. It's almost time.”

The three quickly drank and left me and the bar with a silver.

“Keep the change. ”

Winked Neil as they dawned a cape as they left.

“Where are you guys going?”

The door groaned shut before I got any other words from them.

“Elfien!?”

May's head pop from the back.

Replying with that call, she told me if they paid their tab. I showed her a silver. In a surprise she asked how much I gave in change.

“They said there's no need.”

She then rolled her eyes as she took it.

“Trying to warm up to us by coin, eh. Really.”

She then told me to get the basket again we're bound to the market again.

The sun was readying itself to slumber as we traversed through the bustling locale sellers again. We returned to the wretched putrid street, aptly named butcher street. I stood by carrying the wares of pork that bathed in salt water three live chickens again, but this time we got a dozen eggs.

“Where we going next?”

I asked while we dodged the crowd towards an unknown street. The stench dissolved as we turned left and up some stairs for a new horizon to me. A whiff of the air, pastry and pie hang outside the windows of some townhouses whilst white smokes swirled above the chimneys of said houses. The aprons, the hat, and the scold they gave to children smelling the pie. I already have guessed the stuff I would be holding soon.

We went from...

“This is all you got?”

“Afraid so, Captain.”

Left,

“Sorry, May, there's been a delay on the delivery, desperate monsters has delayed the delivery for another week, but by the festivities it will sure to come.”

And then right.

“I'll take two pounds of butter then.”

May asked every store of baker for something but all generally replied that it hadn't arrived yet.

“Is the flour not good enough, May?”

Cooed the old lady baker at May who was the last store of this so called baker street.

“I...”

She then looked at me for a second before closing in to the sweet old prune baker and conversed in whispers.

Whatever they discussed back there we went home with a bountiful basket of eggs and pounds of butter.

At home we started cooking.

I secretly used the flint and metal claw to spark up the hearth while May was putting wood under the cooking stand Neil made. Soon to enough, customers came, mostly regulars from last night and some senior faces that was new to me but a friend of May.

As the night grew darker two customers, a man and a woman, came, foreigners came into mind as when they talked to me I didn't understand them. May took care of that. She spoke their tongue fluently, I think, they later got a room the farthest room in this Inn. I told her the room next to mine was in perfect condition, but she insisted upon it. Later that night I thanked her for it. If they were next to mine I would find myself not sleeping until sunrise by all the creaking and moaning.

That morning, or the crack of dawn, we ate some bread, eggs and butter when we were about to depart. She told me to carry her sword while she carried a lantern when we depart. We met the same parade of soldiers and farmers that morning, just like my first view I could see wisps of smoke as the young boys breathe through their hands and put their lanterns close.

Passing through the street and alley...

*Thud! Thud!*

We both heard a stepping of sorts.

“Elfien!”

She cried out taking her sword and telling me to stay behind her.

Unsheathing her sword it glowed like a super charged flashlight. It got closer and closer. Whatever it is, it scrapped the ground each step it took.

Even with the sword's light it felt like each scrapping step that thing took it ate the light around us. It was so surreal to see a powerful light source not to show what was hidden in the dark but instead got eaten by something sinister.

*Thud!* *Thud...*

It stopped. I held a piece of fabric on May.

“*Pucluck!*”

It crowed and pecked the ground as it clucked.

Is that a skeletal chicken?

“Hanghh!”

*Thwack!*

“Elfien!”