The scent of the ocean air filled my nose, my lungs drinking deep. The sound of metal hitting metal echoed across the yard as myself and my instructor crossed swords for probably the hundredth time this week. Light filtered into the courtyard through high arches and the sound of the wind whistling through them filled my ears when the ringing of our blades had silenced.

 I had spent the majority of my life in this temple training with swords, spears, and plenty of other weaponry. I knew the moves, I could beat any of the other trainees in single combat or in group combat, but our teacher was our final test in order to graduate from the temple and become what we had trained our whole lives to become: Paladins.

My instructor, a Dwarven Paladin named Pral Trinforge, pushed forward, his massive greatsword pushing against the flat of my own blade. For someone who is about a foot shorter than me, the reach he has with his weapon is amazing. After years of training with him, his astounding ability and strength are no surprise, but it's hard to beat a Dwarf in a contest of strength. I push back on my blade, making some slight room between us. Using this room, I jump back and allow his blade to bury itself deep in the turf below our feet. I rush forward, blade ready to strike, but his training and experience make him more than ready for my attack. Deflecting the blow with only his gauntlet, my sword slips right past him, leaving me open to a counter attack. He took the bait. As he began to raise his sword for an uppercut, I stepped down on it with my armored boot, keeping him from raising it any higher. As he looked up at me, I brought my helmeted head down on his. If you can't beat a Dwarf with your own tactics, use theirs.

"Ahhh! Since when did ya 'ave such a hard head, lass? Nary a person's hit me this hard since me wife and I first met in that tavern brawl" He declared while rubbing his skull through his helmet.

"After all my years under your teaching, anyone would develop a thick skull." I commented, also rubbing my own head. Both our helmets were slightly dented now and we proceeded to discard them. He smiled and raised his greatsword up toward me.

"You really have improved over all these years Verra, but you keep getting walloped out here by me. If you're goin' to make it to High Paladin some day, yer goin' to 'ave to do more than learn a few of me old tricks!" He rushed forward and brought his sword down hard. It was all I could do to block it. As we pushed against one another I realized that I was in a helpless situation, that his strength would push through my defense before I could counter his attack. My mind began to wander, back to my childhood. I has experienced a similar sense of helplessness before. . .

It was back when I was hardly seven or eight years old. It was a mild summer and my mother was out watering the garden as usual for that time of day. We lived on the edge of a small village on the southern end of Alria, just outside the Drandar Forest where they harvested the Ironwood trees that grew there. Trade caravans would pass by our house and village ever week or so and my mother would trade fresh vegetables for other supplies and stockpile them for the winter season. On a day that we were expecting a caravan to come through, we instead got a group of bandits disguised as traders. They forced their way into our home and held me at knifepoint, forcing my mother to surrender to them. Tears streamed down my pale face as the men ransacked our house and held me by my white-blond hair, one of the many features that identified me as an Angel-born. Realizing that I was the child of an Angel, the bandits knew I could be ransomed for a small fortune.  I could see the evil in their eyes as they began to plot and plan how they would spend their massive fortune. Then their attention turned toward my mother. Shouts of "She's useless!" and "Won't be worth nothin'!" filled out small home. Their leader turned his own knife toward my mother. "I love you Verra!" were the last words I heard.

As I saw the knife fly toward her, my vision went white and I couldn't hear anything. When my vision returned I was laying down, looking up at the sky. As I sat up, I could see what was once the walls of my home, now blasted apart and scattered all across the garden. Piles of ash lay where the bandits once stood and my mother's body was laying on the floor not ten feet away from me. I cried for hours until my voice gave out and I continued to sob silently. I awoke hours later to find Pral Trinforge standing over me, his face sad and understanding. Ever since that day he has raised me as if I were his own daughter.

My mind snapped back to the current situation, my breathing heavy and my body now dripping with sweat. I could feel the power building within me and soon it burst forward, knocking my teacher halfway across the open courtyard with a burst of light. In the blink of an eye, I was standing over him, my sword held to his chest. My eyes were aglow with the light of the sun and my body radiated a power and aura that was visible to the naked eye. I began to calm down, my eyes and body returning to normal soon after. I had control once again and I threw my sword to the ground. I collapsed to my knees and placed my head in my hands. The memories of that day threw me into a fit of quiet sobbing. My only comfort was the hand of Pral on my shoulder.

After I had calmed down and stopped sobbing, he sat down on the ground next to me and continued to rub my back as he had done for so many long years when I would become upset. I laughed a little, thinking about how childish I must look right now.

"Well lass, ya managed to beat me in combat at long last." He began. "I know ya don't quite 'ave control of yer powers yet, but ya 'ave the potential to become one of the Holy Knights one day, maybe even High Knight Paladin if ya try 'ard enough. You have been in training for long enough. I am proud to finally say that these words to you. You are like a daughter to me and your growth as a Paladin over the past years has made this old Dwarf proud to call you his student. Lady Verra, from this day forth, you are hereby dubbed Paladin."

He stood and placed his hand on my shoulder again. A single tear fell from his eyes and ran down his craggy face, its features worn and old like the side of a sea cliff. We embraced, my head resting on his shoulder. "Now go out there and give 'em hell." he whispered into my ear. We separated and I stood, looking out toward the ocean as the sun continued its march across the sky. Soon I would be on my way across that sea toward the next step in my journey toward becoming a Holy Knight, and one step closer to meeting my actual father: the Archangel Verga.