Morton swung his sword in short, quick strokes and smiled. This was his day. The day he would finally beat his master of fifteen years.
Not only had he practiced harder than the other pupils over the years, but odds were his master would slow with age.
Morton watched as his master entered the training ring. He looked as solid and confident as ever, and Morton felt his confidence wane. Then his master tripped and Morton hurried to help him.
The point of his master’s sword at his stomach stopped him.
His master smiled. “Today’s lesson complete. Prepare for tomorrow.”