𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑, luke castellan

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨

When Luke was told that his trainer would be a 'sword expert,' an image flashed in his mind. 

Without a doubt, he pictured a 60-year-old with gray hair, reading glasses, and the wisdom of years and years of practicing with swords and the experience of thousands of previous battles.

He didn't know at that time, but he was wrong.

So wrong.

Looking back, it should have been obvious. The same girl his age who had landed a flaming plane the day before should be the person they referred to as the best swordswoman in the camp, but he had too much on his mind to see it and realize.

Truth be told, Keira hated training beginners. She enjoyed training other campers but lacked the patience needed to teach someone how to properly grip a sword, so she usually trained campers at higher levels. However, she found herself in the sword-fighting arena that day for two main reasons.

First, Chiron had assigned her to it. Having already shirked the first task he gave her, she didn't want to do it again. Keira had convinced George, a son of Hephaestus who had been enamored with her for at least two years, to take Annabeth and Luke for a tour of the camp since she had very important things to do. Poor George, delighted to help Keira, wholeheartedly accepted and took charge of the tour, while Keira, Jon, and Nik spent the afternoon by the shores of Canoe Lake, catching up on what had happened during the months they hadn't been at camp. Obviously, Keira took care not to tell Jon; otherwise, he would have bored her with a sermon about why she shouldn't play with George's feelings.

But the second reason was more crucial. Chiron had mentioned that Luke possessed significant natural talent, and Keira wanted to assess it herself. While all campers trained with members of their cabins, those who displayed exceptional abilities received special lessons to further enhance their skills. Keira was determined to find out if the son of Hermes truly warranted such special treatment. Considering the possibility that the apparent beginner might not be as novice as he seemed and unable to resist her curiosity regarding his swordsmanship skills, that fresh summer morning found her searching for a suitable sword for her opponent among the rest of the weapons stored in the armory.

Once she had acquired what she deemed to be the appropriate sword, based on the build of her opponent - from what she could recall - she began her journey toward the sword-fighting arena. Upon entering, she was greeted by the familiar sight of imposing amphitheater-style stands - a place she had missed dearly over these months. With careful steps to avoid treading on the scattered armors that adorned the floor, mimicking the uneven terrain of a real battle, she made her way to the center of the arena. There, she found a boy standing in the middle, a bit hesitant, as if he didn't exactly know what to do or where to go. When his eyes fell on Keira, he instantly adopted a more courageous pose, straightening up and lifting his chin, as if unwilling to display any sign of weakness.

"Hey, you must be Keira," the boy greeted, offering his hand in a friendly manner.

"Indeed, kiddo," she replied, shaking his hand as well.

"Luke," he corrected, somewhat annoyed by the nickname she had chosen to use.

Keira looked at him with a hint of amusement. 

"Cool," she smirked, acknowledging his preference. "Let's get started. This is your sword," she said, handing him the sword she had taken from the armory seconds ago. "Show me what you can do with that."

Surprised by the lack of instructions -he was expecting her to give some advice to start-, he took the sword in his hands the way he thought was best. He raised his gaze to see if his opponent was ready. Her gray eyes watched his hands with a hint of amusement and an arched eyebrow. He expected her to make some corrections about how to hold the sword, but as she didn't say anything, and he wasn't going to embarrass himself by asking if it was okay -because that would mean admitting that he didn't even know how to grip the weapon-, he simply said, "Are you ready for it?"