Swords class

My mind races as I contemplates the sudden turn of events. Being friends with someone I just met, especially a vampire, seems both exhilarating and daunting. But the prospect of having a companion, someone to share secrets and adventures with, outweighs any reservations I may have.

With a smile that feels genuine and warm, I nods. "Yes, I want to be your friend," I says, my voice filled with newfound confidence.

Lise smirks in response, her eyes roaming over my body in a way that sends a shiver down her spine. "You're pretty fit for an 8-year-old," she comments, reaching out to touch my arm.

I instinctively backs away, feeling a sense of unease creeping over me. "What are you doing?" I asks, my voice tinged with apprehension.

But Lise only responds with a sadistic smile, her touch lingering longer than necessary. "You know, friends do things like that," she says, her tone unsettling.

My mind whirls with confusion. While I understands that friends often play together and support each other, the idea of physical contact feels strange and uncomfortable, especially with someone I just met.

"What a weird girl," I thinks to myself, a small frown creasing my brow. But before I can dwell on it further, the sound of the bell interrupts our exchange, signaling the start of class.

"Well, let's go to class," Lise says, taking my hand in hers and leading me out of the broom cupboard.

As we make our way to class together, I can't help but feel a surge of excitement bubbling within me. Despite the strange encounter, I can't shake the feeling of joy that comes with knowing I have a friend for the first time in my life. 

And as I walks beside Lise, hand in hand, I can't help but smile, grateful for the unexpected bond that has formed between us even if Lise was a little bit weird.

Me and Lise make our way into the classroom, finding seats towards the back. Despite the ringing of the bell signaling the start of class, Miss Rose is conspicuously absent. I turns to Lise, a furrow forming between my brows.

"Hmm, Miss Rose is late?" I inquire, my voice carrying a note of uncertainty.

Lise chuckles softly in response, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh, it's true that you're new. But today, we have sword lessons with Mr. Arnold. He's a bit weird, but he's nice," she explains, her tone casual.

Before I can respond, a series of loud thuds echoes through the room, followed by the sound of someone hitting the ground. I jump in my seat, my heart racing with sudden alarm.

"What the heck was that?" I exclaim, turning towards the door.

Several more thuds follow, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground. With a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, one of the students rises to open the door.

In the same instant, a man bursts into the room, his entrance marked by a dramatic kick that sends him tumbling to the ground amidst a chorus of laughter from the students.

I watch in wide-eyed astonishment as the man picks himself up, his long black hair tied back in a ponytail swaying with the motion. He wears a traditional samurai outfit, adorned with several swords strapped to his waist.

"Well, I am Sir Arnold," he announces, straightening up and stretching with exaggerated movements. "And today, you are going to learn how to use a sword," he declares, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

A surge of excitement courses through me at his words. The prospect of learning swordsmanship with him looked funny, a departure from the mundane routine of regular classes. I can't help but feel a sense of anticipation bubbling within me.

But my excitement is short-lived as Lydia, decides to voice her disdain.

"Calm down, you're making a fool of yourself," she sneers, her words dripping with malice.

I bristle at her condescending tone, my jaw clenching with frustration. Despite her attempts to undermine him, I find myself drawn to Sir Arnold's energy and passion. 

"I don't care about your teasing, Lydia," Sir Arnold declares, his voice firm as he addresses the snickering princess. With a fluid motion, he retrieves one of his swords from its sheath, his movements practiced and precise.

"Everyone, head to the sword training room," he commands, and all the students rise from their seats, anticipation buzzing in the air.

I can't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of sword training. This is something I really like, a departure from the mundane routine of regular classes. "Let's go," I say to Lise, my voice brimming with enthusiasm.

But Lise's response is less than enthusiastic. She sighs heavily, her expression clouded with reluctance. "What's the matter? You don't like sword fights?" I ask, puzzled by her lack of enthusiasm.

Lise hesitates before responding, her gaze distant. "Well, let's say that it's Lydia's strong point, and she likes to boast about it too much to the point where it has become boring," she explains, her tone tinged with frustration.

I nod in understanding, realizing the weight of Lydia's influence over her peers. It's no wonder Lise feels disillusioned with the prospect of sword training when it's been overshadowed by Lydia's constant boasting.

"Ah, I see," I reply, sympathy coloring my tone. It must be difficult to muster excitement for something that's been tainted by someone else's arrogance.

Together, we make our way to the training room, which is expansive and well-equipped. Rows of wooden practice dummies line the walls, and racks of swords gleam in the dim light.

As we step inside, a sense of anticipation washes over me. Despite Lise's reservations, I can't shake the feeling that this is going to be a very good course. With determination in my heart, I eagerly await the start of our sword training.

"Everyone, find a partner that you can fight, so we can begin," Sir Arnold's voice booms through the training room, commanding attention.

I turn to Lise, a hopeful glint in my eye as I begin to ask, "You want to be—"

But before I can even finish my sentence, Lydia interjects, her voice dripping with arrogance. "Aurelia, I'll want to fight you," she declares, brandishing her wooden sword menacingly, the tip pointed directly at my face.

I feel a surge of annoyance at Lydia's interruption, her constant need to assert her dominance grating on my nerves. But I refuse to let her intimidate me, not now, not ever.

I meet Lydia's gaze head-on, my own determination shining through. "We'll see about that," I reply, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins.