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Annabelle never thought she would hold a sword in her life. The wooden practice sword weighed heavily in her hand as she held it, and her arm wobbled.

Sean had, once again, surprised her. This time with a swordsman that would train them in the art of sword fighting. After all, going into the Forest of Mystel unarmed was a stupid idea. They needed a way to defend themselves against the horrific creatures the miasma created, and swords were a viable and plentiful weapon to learn.

However, it didn’t come easy for either of them. While Sean learned the footing and the weight of his wooden sword faster than Annabelle, they both struggled in the beginning. Annabelle learned the footwork quickly, but the weight of the wooden sword seemed too much for her slender arm. She often tried to hold the sword with both hands, but found that helped little.

Thwack. Thwack. Each hit of the sword caused Annabelle to step backwards, a grunt leaving her as her sword flew out of her hand once again, and she felt the wooden tip of the training sword against her throat.

“If you cannot handle a wooden sword, you will not handle a real blade,” Svario, the sword master, told her. “But enough practice for now; eat, girl. You’ll need your strength for our next lesson.”

Annabelle bowed slightly once Svario moved the practice sword away from her neck and kneeled down to pick up her own. Keeping her gaze lowered to hide the frustration that raked through her body, she turned and made her way to the campsite to sit next to Sean.

“Eat, you look famished,” he told her as he held out a bowl of stew. “Still not going well?”

“No, it isn’t, and I think Svario is getting disappointed,” Annabelle replied, happily taking the stew. “The training swords are just too heavy for me.”

“They are heavy, though not as heavy as the real things,” Sean spoke, “and then the metal that clings and vibrates when it hits. It rakes up your arm.”

“I’m no good at this, but I have to get better. I can’t expect you to protect me the entire time we’re in the forest.”

Silence fell over the two as they ate, Annabelle’s thoughts leading her to believe she was a failure, while Sean’s thoughts moved to how he could help her improve. Maybe a sword was the wrong type of weapon and she needed something else. Something about that seemed to be the wrong answer to him. Something had to give.

Morning came fast, and Annabelle was one of the first ones of the caravan to wake. Careful not to bother the others, she pulled on her boots and headed to the small area by the river where they trained with swords. She grabbed the one she used for practice off the makeshift rack, frowning as she looked at it.

Nothing about it screamed her. It was too clunky. Too heavy. Too ugly. Granted, it was made of wood, so it wasn’t meant to be the prettiest sword in existence. It still screamed something other than her.

“Are you going to learn to wield it, or are you going to glare at it?” Svario’s voice yanked Annabelle out of her thoughts, and she yelped in embarrassment. A tsk left the swordsman, and he walked over to the elf, looking at the weapon in her hand. “A sword is merely a tool. It is only one tool of many. We are only a few days away from the forest, and you have yet to show promise with a sword. What do you suggest, Lady Annabelle?”

“A sword isn’t for me. With that said, I don’t know what is,” Annabelle said, sighing. Her shoulders slumped as the wooden sword fell from her hand, clattering against the ground. “I just know I’m going to be useless.”

“No, you won’t be useless,” Svario crossed his arms over his chest. He looked down at the sword on the ground and then back at Annabelle. “Sean came to me about his concerns after you went to sleep last night. He has a theory, and I am intrigued. Will you humor me?”

A groan escaped from Annabelle’s throat, though it was an unintentional noise as her cheeks tinted darker in embarrassment. She knelt down to pick up the sword, but Svario’s foot stepped on it. “Sean always has the craziest ideas…”

“I think he may be on to something, however. It won’t hurt, I don’t believe,” Svario reached into the pocket of his long coat and pulled out a smooth gemstone. A strange rune was etched into the crystal surface. “Take this.”

Annabelle’s eyes widened as she stared at the runed crystal. She had heard the legends about the runestones, but had never seen one before in her life. “A stone of Mystel… Where did you get this?”

Svario laughed and dropped it into the palm of Annabelle’s hand as she held it out. “One of the merchants you are traveling with happened to have it.”

As soon as the stone touched her skin, Annabelle felt a strange sensation run through her arm. It was almost enough to make her drop it. Power surged through the stone and into her, a high frequency vibrating, shaking her to her core. Through the stone, Annabelle could feel a connection with everything in nature: the earth beneath her boots, the water of the river that flowed next to them, the wispiness of the surrounding air. Magic screamed in her veins, causing her blood to boil for a moment, and she screamed before the sensations faded to normal.

“I had a feeling it would be this,” Svario smiled, looking past Annabelle as he saw a flicker of red hair hurrying towards them.

“Anna, are you okay?” Sean asked breathlessly, his voice full of concern.

“I’m… Fine, I think,” Annabelle turned to look at Sean, and then looked down at the stone in her hand. She heard it humming faintly and wondered if the others could hear it, too. “Svario gave me this runestone, and it felt like… Well, it was a strange sensation running through my body, and I can suddenly feel a connection to nature.”

“Magic,” Sean breathed. He laughed and then let out a cheerful yell. “I knew there was something special about you after all! We’re going to go get that throne and clear the Forest of Mystel in no time!”

“Don’t get too hasty, she still has to learn to control the magic,” Svario chuckled. Sean’s enthusiasm amused him, but he secretly hoped that the magic Annabelle had gained would be enough to protect them. “And that lesson begins now.”

Image created by Author in Canva.