The next day, as she approached the decided location, Sarrah’s heart raced with excitement and anticipation. As she got closer, she saw Adam standing there, prepared for the first training session.
“Good morning, master,” she said in a calm voice.
“You ready?” Adam asked.
“Can’t wait any longer,” she replied.
Adam handed her a wooden sword and, pointing towards a watermelon behind him, said,
“Slash it with all you’ve got. Let’s see where to get you started.”
Sarrah took a step back, dashed toward the melon, and slashed it with all her strength.
Adam closely observed her movements and said,
“You took a step back. Why did you do that? It took you long enough that an enemy would’ve sliced your head off. Don’t depend on momentum to give you strength to slash. Your movements are great, but you can’t handle them because of your poor grip and unpolished posture. You have skill, but your basics need work.”
He took a few steps back, thinking. “Hmm... let’s see. Now your training begins. No turning back.”
“Start swinging that sword in the air—253 times. Make sure your feet don’t move more than an inch.”
“Sure, master,” Sarrah replied and started swinging the sword.
“One... two... three... four...”
Adam walked toward his shop. As he entered, he walked to a chest, placed his hand over it, and said,
“Looks like I’ll get to see you in action again soon.”
He grabbed a few more wooden swords from the rack and walked back to where Sarrah was training.
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“153... 154... 155...”
He could hear her voice as he walked closer.
“Keep at it, kiddo. After you’re done with this, swim across the river. There are ten wooden swords there—get them one by one.”
Sarrah was confused by this strange training regimen but had faith in Adam, so she didn’t question it and went along. After a while:
“250... 251... 252... 253...”
Sweating and hardly catching her breath, she asked,
“Master, can I have a few minutes before I start swimming? I really need to catch my breath.”
“Hmm, is that so? Okay, you can. But only for the first ten days. After that, you’ll have to do it without a break.”
Sarrah sat down and gently asked,
“Master, I’ve used a real sword before. So why am I training with a wooden one? And what does swimming have to do with sword training?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Adam replied.
As time went on, Sarrah no longer felt tired. She didn’t need breaks—she could handle the routine with ease.
This training continued for three months. After three months of sword swinging and swimming, Adam said,
“I’m adding a new exercise to your training. From tomorrow, after you get the last sword and swim back, stand in the middle of the river, submerged up to your shoulders. Swing that wooden sword under the water. There’s a rock at your waist level—your sword should hit it.”
Shocked, Sarrah tried to clarify.
“But master, how can I swing a wooden sword underwater? Won’t it just float back up?”
“Yes, it will,” Adam said. “And that’s the whole point. Do it a hundred times, at least.”
As more months of training passed, Sarrah began to doubt the regimen. She needed answers.
Two months later, she finally confronted Adam.
“Master, I’m not gaining any real experience from this training. Yes, I’m getting better at swinging my sword, but—”
“But it’s not making a real difference in your sword style?” Adam interrupted.
“Oh, is that what you think?” He stepped forward. “Fight me, kid—with that wooden sword.”
Master and student clashed for the first time.
Sarrah noticed her movements felt fluid, like she was flowing with the river. Her grip—stronger than ever. Even when taking hits, she wasn’t pushed back. Her posture—firm and unyielding.
“Notice any difference, kiddo?” Adam said.
“Your style was great from the beginning. What you lacked was arm strength. Steadiness in your stance. Your sword wasn’t cutting through because of a loose grip. You’ve swung that sword thousands of times for five months. It’s become muscle memory—you don’t think while moving anymore. It comes naturally.
“You swam across a flowing river—it strengthened your arms and gave your movements a fluid rhythm. You swung your sword underwater—made your grip tighter and synced your arms and swings perfectly.
“Now you understand the training, kiddo. Now give this shot your all.”
As Adam finished his explanation, both swordsmen dashed forward and struck. In the next moment, we see Sarrah sitting on the ground, her wooden sword shattered in pieces—Adam standing with a proud smile.
“You’re a thousand years away from beating me, kiddo,” he said. “But I’m proud of your progress. You deserve a prize, kid. I have something special in mind.”
He brings Sarrah to his shop and points toward an old chest.
“Open it, kiddo.”
Sarrah opens the box. The first thing she sees is....—it’s a folded piece of paper, aged and delicate. She unfolds it slowly.
In neat, familiar handwriting it reads:
“May the wind guide you, my little spirit. I'll always be with you.”
Her hands tremble.
Tears begin to roll down her cheeks as she moves the note aside and sees what lies beneath.
“This is… you had this all along…… Thank you, Master, for taking such good care of it."
According to you how old is Sarrah
