Training under THE Kal Rogen

"You shall address me as master from now, get it?" The man in front of me uses a tone he uses with that 'voice'.

For seventeen years of my life... I've been watched over and taught by THE Kal Rogen?

This seems like a daydream in the middle of my nightmare.

"Y-yes, master." I obey him as usual.

"I've seen you're weaker than most women in the training grounds. I couldn't less compare you to men, than this." This was an insult thrown straight into my pants. I have to swallow it up, no matter what.

"No resistance?" He asks, but I'm not sure I've understood him.

"Arent you going to t defend yourself when I'm comparing you to girls?" He rephrased the question for my dumbness.

"Oh- uh... you've raised me so I could be a bigger person anywhere I go. In this case, I cannot defend myself." I say to him. Disappointment flows in his sigh as he leans against the wall.

"What's the issue? Something happened today?" He asks while lighting up a cigar. It was a traditional hand rolled blunt which smelled ecstatic. I gulp and ready my answer.

"Yes. Um... I've made friends, I guess. Even they told me a few women in the grounds perform better than me. I can't even lift my armor unless the need arises." Says I. He hums and calls me towards him with the blunt between his fingers.

"Dodge the attack." He says. Suddenly, the orange ring of the glowing blunt butt is in front of my face. Precisely beside my temple, ready to leave a burned scar.

"Ack!" I squeak and push his hand away, the blunt flying in the air and meeting soil.

"I- I'm sorry-"

"I tried to harm you, and you're apologizing to me?" He asks. That's right. I need to fathom the situation as a human and not a kind little boy. When I realise that he tried to harm me, my eyebrows start to furrow together.

"Why'd you do it?"

"It was a test." He looks away from me, rather looking at the wasted nicotine of his on the soil.

"A test?"

"You've got good reflexes. You're not meek. But you're not strong either. Perhaps all you need is a bit of exercises and daily practice with the armor. You say it's heavy, huh?" I never said it was heavy... it was just difficult to carry around. The shield especially. I'm pleasantly surprised at how he analysed me with such a simple observation.

"I- I'm sorry..."

"For what?"

"I am not to complain about my armor which saves my life many times," or so was I taught about it. "It's not just heavy but I'm short and little, probably the youngest cadet on the list. It's hard for me to catch up..."

I reveal my insecurity. Through discussion on the dinner table, I learned that I was among the younger ones in the batch. Gray and the others were in the middle while the oldest were around 27 and 29.

"Hmm." Oh, I don't like the part where he is humming for an answer. I can't figure that out!

"Sometimes what's heavy for your shoulders isn't the armor or the sword, little one. It's the death of your friends that's going to weigh a tonne more if you can't save them with that armor." He says. He's silenced me in the best way possible. With the truth.

That takes me back...

My father perished because I wasn't the one holding the sword and shield in front of me.

"As for you now, 'cause you've wasted my precious cigar," he takes another spare one out and lights it up with grace, "Run 20 laps along the pack fences or you won't go to sleep." He says.

Shoot.

What kind of physical exercise is this? Does he think I'm a God? I can't possibly do that-

"Tomorrow is your first task by me for your group. You don't want to slack away and bring your whole team down with drowsiness, would you Riley?" He asks me. So tomorrow's task is a group task. Again.

Oh no.

I'd better be awake and help if it shall be any mental task tomorrow. I can handle the aches of my body... he knows that. But I can't let my team slack off because I slacked off...

No.

"Alright, master. 20 laps around the pack fences." Saying that, I begin to run laps.

Oh lord.

I can't even complete half of the first lap. What the hell, Riley? Your physical strength is worse than a baby. A newborn even. My breathing was changing course as if I've just climbed up a hill.

This is bad. This is really, really bad.

Five laps into, and I don't catch the sight of Kal. He must have been bored by my slow running pace and walked himself back to his quarters. God. If you exist, give me a sign.

"Riley." A faint voice like a stalker scares me.

"Ah! Oh, it's... you." It was Oiko. She was standing over me who has fallen.

"What are you doing?" She asks.

"Um... just running around some laps."

"I see. I've been said to look at you practice by a girl." A girl? Maybe mister Kal didn't want anyone to sense the prioritization towards me.

"Oh. Well, you must be tired after all that danc- I mean training with the armor on."

"It's my daily task." Talk about being tough.

"I am going to run laps with you." She says. Wait! I still have a long way to go! I can't drag her into this! What if she 'slacks off' too?

"N-no. I mean, it's going to be late by the time-"

"It's already midnight." She says, pointing at the lunar source of light above us. Of course...

"Yes... Well, I'm going to take a lot of time."

"I don't mind. Besides, it's a task for me." Why do I feel like all she is saying is kind of... unnatural? Like she has been forced to be with me.

Or... is it that she never backs down on her word?

Something like that would suit her resolve.