Training Day

The next day was surprisingly just the same, even as annoying.

Peter could only stare up at the wall, before the sudden knock immediately shocked him.

Commander Just was there obviously, waiting to lead him to his practice in which in his mind he believed the prince should understand the ways to the training center.

But it was a dead thought, for only he wished to bring the prince to his classes.

And he did so, also finding himself annoyed at the rambling the Peter presented.

"So, when would I be able to go by myself?"

"When the king says so."

"Will I still have guards by my side?"

"Of course you would; you are forgetting that you are a prince—so of course there would."

"Why, I am in the castle."

"Well from the sudden fight yesterday, it's even surprising that even within the palace, danger is still existent here."

"Oh."

The silence now returned, but it now seemed odd to Just.

Maybe it was due to his son's sudden push into manslaughter that seemed to activate his emotions.

So, in the most stalest way possible—he said, "Sorry for my son's anger, he's very protective of his relationship."

"Well, I think I just ruined it," Peter returned, looking up to Just.

Although it sounded very fake, he could tell it wasn't and proceeded to give his forgiveness. "It's okay." Soon enough, the elevator opened its doors, surprising them due to the speed of their arrival, maybe because of the very lengthy talking.

But, the destination was reached and once again, the two went their different directions.

And out the door he went, he found himself again fashionably late, although he didn't feel that way. The base was occupied by Master Caville and the many soldier operatives that were standing up, which he could tell their legs possibly felt like they were melting.

"Welcome your highness prince," she said, giving a very slow bow. "You are late again."

"Sorry."

She cared less about his sudden late arrival, which explained why she started to quickly.

"Okay, yesterday we focused on the mind—peace in the mind," she explained. "Now, we focus on the legs."

She stopped, giving an amount of suspense in which they knew that she was going to shout something inordinately in the cue of the moment.

The silence was now stinging inside the ears, which they almost pleaded for her to shout already.

"Squat!"

Immediately, they squatted, staying in the position in which it didn't seem to hurt.

But it was only a matter of time.

"Now, it may not happen now, but your legs will get tired, but fight it," the teacher said.

Right as she said that, Peter's legs started to lacerate a little but he tried to take no mind into it.

But the legs continued to pain him, and now he was starting to get quite aware particularly.

He tried shifting his legs a bit to ease down the sting, but he was returned with a block that was as fast as a snakebite.

The teacher raised her leg towards his knees, stopping further movement.

Darkly, she said, "No movement."

Now that was made clear very affrightedly, Peter tried to not move.

So he thought of something else—closing his eyes, which seemed to work a bit.

But, there is something about closing your eyes that has a certain con.

When you close your eyes, you seem to focus more than when you see.

Peter started to feel the pain much more worse, and he opened his eyes, somehow breathing heavily.

His legs felt paralyzed as if they wanted to melt into jelly, which wasn't actually a bad idea to this point. He tried holding his position, until he realized for once—what the point was.

He needed to focus on the good things now.

He speedily did so, trying to think of coziness and the certain safety in his bed.

But, it didn't seem as if the pain was going away, it seemed as if it was almost soothing.

Soothing to a point where he even smiled in the midst of the aching. Soothing to the point, he could wipe his warm sweat, and breathe slower once again.

Micah was found to do the same thing, except he had to sway around to move with the body.

Asiris sat down on a criss-cross applesauce form, staring at the painful struggle Micah was going through.

But he could care less.

He knew that when the real adventure started, pain was only going to be normal.

So he told him to continue, which he found hard to feel his pain.

"Keep going, you're gonna make it," he said, looking hard at Micah, who was now drenched in his clothing. "Keep going."

Micah was almost resistant to keep going though, because his legs were trembling now, even surprising him that they didn't start shaking a long time ago. He was continuously opening and closing eyes, making him dizzy due to all the disorienting swaying.

"Can I stop please?"

"Nope, keep going."

Micah was now enraged; how could he do so?! It wasn't like he could feel his pain through all the dopey swaying formation.

He looked like a fool, and it hurt while being one.

But, Asiris was not aware of this unbearable pain. In fact, he was still counting ten minutes to go.

Micah was about to cry, but he tried not to show the patheticness which may result in more doubt for Asiris.

So he kept trying.

He kept trying not only to keep going, but not to fall down and cry in pain like a baby.

But, he almost wavered from a sudden stop that was ordered from Asiris.

He almost fell towards his side, but he had a sudden balance.

His legs wouldn't move; they were so still like statues that even Micah himself couldn't understand.

"You can rest now."

Micah—feeling very dizzy—collapsed headlong into the floor.

He wasn't knocked out, but he wanted to be, to rest from the pain that felt like his body was being twisted through the legs.

Asiris wasn't amused by his dramatic fall, which without delay he said, "Get up!"

Micah tried to quickly get up, but his legs felt like dough.

He got up, staggering to get into position as he was quickly handed a staff.

"Let's see how you do," Asiris stated, getting into a position in which it alerted Micah.

But, he did so—preparing to give him a very stabilized attack, hoping to get him down onto the ground.

They both had their attempts and their goals, and they were going to be put into action.

They both charged towards each other, each staff held high.

Then, they stationed it by their hips, ready to strike into victory.