The Witch's Hero

My arms ached. I'm not sure what I should have imagined when I asked Patrick to train me, but it didn't include how I felt at the end of everyday. The pain of growing muscles as I milked the cow and chopped the wood was tiresome, but no amount of hard work could have prepared me for wielding a sword half as tall as I was and nearly matching my weight. There were days in the beginning where I couldn't lift it off the ground. Patrick's patience never failed, although I did catch him laughing at me a few times as I tripped over my feet trying to learn the steps involved with swordplay.