The sun had already begun dipping behind the horizon when Sayaka dashed through the cobbled streets, her boots clacking unevenly as her balance wobbled with every step. She didn't care.
"Outta the way!"
A startled merchant fumbled with his cart as she sprinted past.
"Sorry!"
She darted around the corner, nearly tripping on a loose stone slab. Her cloak fluttered behind her like a tattered flag. Her heart raced, but not from exhaustion.
It was excitement.
As she skidded to a stop in front of the weathered sign that read "GREFF'S FORGE & WEAPONARY", her breath caught in her chest. Her cheeks were flushed, her hands trembling.
Why do I feel like a child again? I'm twenty-three. A full-grown woman. I have taxes in my real world… I think. And yet…
She pushed the door open with a loud creak.
Why does this feel like coming home?
"MASTER GREFF!!" she called out, way too loud for the quiet interior. "I'm back!"
The clang of metal stopped. Greff poked his head out from behind the forge wall, soot smeared across his cheek. "...You again?"
Sayaka marched in, grinning. "Reporting for training, sir!"
"You really treat this place like a playground, huh?"
"I earned that right!" she beamed proudly, hands on hips.
"You got beat up, humiliated, and nearly flunked the entire trial process… and you're still smiling like a maniac. What part of that sounds like 'earned' to you?"
"I survived it, didn't I?"
Greff stared at her for a long moment. Then he shrugged. "Fair enough. And to say for real... You have changed, Sayaka. you are not the same girl I saw you first with Elara. You change a lot as your age increases and getting more of humiliation and your understanding on humiliation and accept it as part of your life. "
Sayaka threw her bag on a crate and stretched, groaning. "Urgh… mana theory class is torture. I almost exploded a fire orb in my face trying to think magical. I don't even have mana, why do I have to learn theory?. And yep something's are not always same, Greff and I feel something good is going to happen. "
"That's the Hunter Academy for you. They love stuffing heads with useless fluff," Greff said, tossing a rag toward her.
She caught it midair and began wiping the sweat off her brow.
Even my sweat stinks of failure… but this shop… it's different. I don't feel like garbage here. It doesn't judge me for what I lack.
"I had this one girl in class—Marielle or Marietta or something—all sparkles and snobby smirks. Said I 'smelled like commoner firewood.' What does that even mean!?"
Greff chuckled. "Means she's never chopped firewood."
Sayaka flopped onto the same training stump she used yesterday. Her arms still ached. Her legs still had bandages. But there was a strange light in her eyes now. Something quietly burning.
"I want to get stronger," she said suddenly, voice low.
Greff glanced at her.
"Not just… survivable. Not just passable. I want to be strong enough that no one ever looks down on me again. I'm tired of sitting awkwardly in classrooms. I'm tired of the pity stares. Of people thinking I'm a fluke."
Her hands curled into fists.
"I want to earn this sword. Not just carry it."
Greff exhaled slowly, stepping toward the wall where racks of training gear hung like trophies of long-forgotten warriors.
"Then today," he said, "we move past the stance drills. Time to see how you move."
He tossed her a new weapon. Lighter, sleeker. A dulled practice blade with a steel alloy core.
Sayaka caught it. "This one's different…"
"Balanced for mid-weight users. Good for agility sparring."
"Are you saying I'm mid-weight?"
"I'm saying shut up and come outside."
She giggled. He's such a jerk… but it feels warm.
Outside, the training ground was still worn and uneven, the dummy poles casting long shadows in the evening sun. Sayaka took her place in the center.
"Now," Greff called, "show me your slash. No target this time. Just swing through air. Imagine you're cutting through your own fear."
Sayaka inhaled. Closed her eyes.
Through my fear, huh…?
She remembered the bullies. The classroom whispers. The pain in her ribs. The cold floor.
Cut it. Slice through it. Just like that dummy. Just like everything that said "you can't."
She opened her eyes and—
SHWAK!
Her blade cut through empty space with a whistle. Greff's eyes widened, just a little.
She blinked. "That… that felt good."
"One more."
SHWAK!
Again. Clean. Firm.
"Again."
SHWAK!
Again. Again. Again.
Soon the ground bore her footprints. Her hair clung to her skin. Her breaths were short. But she didn't stop.
I'm still not good enough. But I'm not the girl who trembled on trial day. I'm not that weak anymore.
She halted finally, blade trembling in her grasp.
Greff stepped forward and adjusted her grip slightly.
"You're not half-bad when you stop overthinking," he said, gruffly.
Sayaka smiled, a real one this time. Her heart thudded in joy.
Even if this sword never awakens… I'll fight with my own hands. Even if I'm alone, I'll carve out a place for myself here.
"Master Greff?"
"Yeah?"
"I'll come again tomorrow. So don't lock the door."
He grunted. "I lock it because of you."
She stuck her tongue out.
And in that dim-lit backyard under the melting sky, for just a moment, Sayaka felt… light.