The days blurred together in the camp. The constant rhythm of training, sparring, and drills had begun to feel like a second skin to Valen. His muscles ached, his body was bruised, and yet the process of training,.being forced to keep going, no matter how exhausted he felt,.somehow began to give him a strange sense of purpose.
Sergeant Malric's bark echoed across the camp, a voice so thunderous it could shake the ground. "Move faster, recruits! This isn't a picnic! It's a battlefield!"
Valen, alongside Dorin, stood at the front of a training line, weapons in hand. The sword he'd been using felt like a heavy weight, and his grip had long since grown slick with sweat. He tried to keep his stance strong, his mind focused, but it was becoming more and more difficult as the heat of the day intensified.
"Again!" Malric shouted, his voice sharp like a whip. "I want to see your footwork! You call that a strike, Valen? My grandmother's swing has more power than that!"
Valen gritted his teeth. "I'm not sure she'd be able to swing a sword with her walker," he muttered under his breath, earning a soft chuckle from Dorin beside him.
"Maybe she's got a few tricks left," Dorin whispered, giving Valen a mischievous look. "I wouldn't mess with your grandma, Valen."
Valen rolled his eyes but refocused. This was no time for jokes. He had to get better. He didn't want to be the laughing stock of the camp, especially not with the war looming closer by the day.
"Alright, alright! I get it!" Valen called out to Malric, then took a deep breath and reset his stance. He swung his sword again, this time with more force, more intent. The sound of steel cutting the air echoed across the training grounds.
Malric grunted, unimpressed. "Better, but not good enough. Again!"
Valen grumbled under his breath, but his feet moved, carrying him through the routine once more. Each strike felt heavier than the last. His arms were like lead, and his breath came in labored gasps.
"Come on, Valen," Dorin called from behind him. "Think of something that'll get your blood pumping. Like... maybe imagining Malric is a giant boar. Or a sheep with a really big attitude."
Valen snorted in spite of himself. The image of Sergeant Malric as an angry sheep was just ridiculous enough to lighten his mood.
"I'll try to picture him as an angry boar. It might be a little more intimidating," Valen said, stepping back into position.
Dorin laughed, but the sound was cut short as a figure approached the training grounds. Valen's focus was momentarily broken, and his gaze shifted to the woman walking toward them. She was young, like him, with a confident stride that seemed to demand attention. Her dark hair framed her face, and her eyes, green like the deepest forests, caught Valen's attention instantly.
She wore a similar training tunic, but there was something about her that stood apart from the rest of the recruits. She moved with ease, her posture perfect, as if she had been born to handle a blade.
Dorin noticed Valen's lingering gaze and nudged him. "Well, well, looks like someone's distracted. Focus, man!"
Valen snapped back to reality. "I—uh—what?"
The woman stopped in front of them, giving Valen a sharp, assessing look before offering a casual smile. "I was wondering when you'd stop staring," she said, her voice smooth and confident.
Valen's face turned red, but he quickly recovered. "I wasn't staring," he said quickly, shaking his head. "I—uh, I was just... focusing on my training."
Dorin snickered under his breath, but Valen shot him a look that promised retribution later.
The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Right. I'm Aris," she said, offering her hand with a smirk. "And I'm here to kick your ass in training."
Valen took her hand, still flustered. "Valen," he replied, trying to shake off the awkwardness. "Nice to meet you, I guess. But... uh, what are you doing here? I thought only men were volunteering for the army."
Aris shrugged, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "You think women can't fight?"
Valen blinked, a little taken aback. "Well... no, of course not! But... it's just that... the way the herald announced it, I thought—"
"I know what you thought." Aris interrupted, her smile never faltering. "But there's more to this war than the royal decree. I've got my reasons for being here, and they don't need to make sense to you."
Valen opened his mouth to ask further questions, but Malric's voice boomed once more. "Enough chit-chat! Get back to your drills, recruits!"
Aris grinned, giving Valen a wink as she turned to join the others. "Later, Valen," she called over her shoulder. "Try to keep up, will you?"
Valen stood still for a moment, still processing what had just happened. His heart was racing, and not just from the training. Aris was unlike anyone he'd met in the camp, confident, sharp, and definitely not one to be ignored.
Dorin leaned in and whispered, "So, what's your excuse now, huh? She's a good fighter, but I think you're just afraid of her winning."
Valen shot him a glare. "You're impossible, Dorin."
"Hey, you can't blame me," Dorin said with a laugh. "You've got a tough opponent out there. Hope you've got some tricks up your sleeve!"
As the sun dipped below the tents, Valen collapsed beside Dorin, both of them soaked in sweat and smelling like defeat.
"I think my ribs are learning Morse code," Valen groaned.
Dorin pointed at the new recruit across the yard,.Aris, who was casually doing pushups like she hadn't just spent six hours being yelled at by Sergeant Malric. "Look at her. She's not even tired. She's *thriving.* What is she? A mythical beast?"
"I tried talking to her," Valen muttered. "I think she threatened me... but like, politely."
"She winked at you."
"Exactly. It was terrifying."
Dorin leaned in. "You in love already?"
"I think I'm in survival mode."
Just then, Aris walked by, towel slung over her shoulder, shooting them both a glance. "Nice flailing out there today, boys."
Valen tried to respond but only managed a wheeze. Dorin saluted her with a piece of bread. "We aim to impress."
She smirked. "You're aiming somewhere, that's for sure."
As she walked off, Valen turned to Dorin. "I'm not ready for war."
Dorin nodded. "Me neither. I was barely ready for lunch."
---
This should now reflect the lighthearted, comedic tone you're looking for! Let me know if you'd like any more tweaks.