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As usual I woke up before the sun came up. I went to see my horse friend Thorondor. I took him for a short walk and played him some music before I left. Returning to the barracks I washed my cloth and left it to hang.
I dressed the legions cloths and placed the armour over it. I felt it was heavy the day before and thought it might be uncomfortable, but it really wasn’t. I just needed to get used to its weight.
I took one of the pilaii, the training long sword and spear and of course my inseparable longbow and arrows. I didn’t know what I was going to learn but I thought I would probably only need my training weapons to begin.
As I walked through the training fields I saw the sun begin to rise and I quickened my pace. The man giving the orders in the barracks was extremely unpleasant, nothing like the first legionnaire I knew. But after the life threatening treatment and teachings of my last teacher, this man unpleasant words sounded like a sweet song.
Still, I didn’t want to make him made or seem disrespectful. After all, he would be spending some his own life time to teach me how to survive.
Maybe that’s why he was so unpleasant. Maybe when teaching things that are related to life and death, teachers feel the need to be tough to toughen the pupils’ bodies and spirits.
All I had to do was to endure patiently. At least, this time, I didn’t have to gain my teacher’s respect in order to stay alive. As I saw the man in the training field I wondered what would be his reaction to a seven feet abnormally tall and developed elf. Approaching the waiting man I complimented him:
Serale, sir. I am Isil.
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