Chapter Text
My childhood home was a house located on the outskirts of Sacred Square. It was a short walk from the castle, which allowed Cutlass Knight to easily travel to and from the palace whenever the Sovereign needed her. The house was relatively small. Larger than most of the houses in the city, but smaller than what was typical for nobles of Cutlass Knight’s standing. Apparently a larger home was offered to her by the Sovereign, but she preferred to live more modestly, only taking as much space as she needed. The interior had a gothic aesthetic, much like the castle, though the building itself felt darker, almost foreboding, with dark wood furniture and most of the lighting coming from the sconces on the walls rather than the windows. It may not have been the ideal home for most children, but it was my home. It was comfortable enough for what it was.
Cutlass Knight was a high status soldier, very well off in terms of wealth. Despite this, she had opted not to hire any domestic servants. She said she preferred solitude when she was at home, and having housekeepers would disturb her privacy. How she managed to juggle doing housework on top of her work as a royal guardswoman is beyond me, even before she added on the responsibilities of caring for and educating a child.
Anyway, the morning after arriving in Sacred Square also marked my very first training session. Cutlass Knight wasted no time getting into combat lessons, starting me off with a wooden sword. The first week was dedicated to proper stances, advances and retreats, lunges…
“Sword inward, Mateo! You’re leaving yourself wide open for attacks.”
“Poyo!”
“And point your right foot forward. You’re advancing, not side-stepping.”
It was about what you would expect from early sword-fighting lessons. Very basic techniques, nothing like what she displayed during the Scarfy fight. I just sort of took it as it came, figuring that we would get to the more flashy stuff eventually. I did, however, get to have my first duel with Cutlass Knight at the end of the first week. As you can well imagine, a toddler against a highly trained warrior was not a fair matchup. I was knocked to the ground after the battle had just barely began.
“An adequate performance for this early in your journey to knighthood. But I know you can do better.”
“P-poyo…”
“Yes. Now brush yourself off and let’s go again. A warrior must not let a single defeat bring them down. Use your frustration as motivation to try harder.”
Cutlass Knight was a… strict teacher to put it mildly. Her delivery during critiques was blunt, and she was prone to frustration if I wasn’t following her lessons exactly as she was presenting them. Most of the time she seemed to forget that she was dealing with a child.
“What are you doing? Don’t try to stop the sword with your hand! What do you think would happen if you tried that with a real blade?”
“Poyo poyo?”
“You’d end up with a sliced hand, that’s what would happen! Now, show me how you parry.”
We had swordplay lessons seven days a week. I was given frequent breaks so that I didn’t completely burn myself out, but I was encouraged to give every lesson my all and push myself to my absolute limits. Harsh? Demanding? Maybe. But this was the schedule I grew up with, and the only one I knew at the time. This was what I needed to go through in order to become a knight, so this was what I was going to do.
In addition to combat training, I was taught various other skills imperative for being a knight, such as tending to armor and weapons, as well as proper etiquette.
“You appear to be having some trouble understanding, Mateo. Let’s go over it once more: when dining, you use the smaller fork on your left for salad, and the larger fork for your dinner. You do NOT inhale your entire meal and table setting!”
“Mph… poyo!”
“…I may need to rethink my plan to bring you along to the Sovereign’s dinner party this weekend.”
Some skills came more easily than others…
Outside of the lessons typical for a page or squire, Cutlass Knight provided me with a general education. I was taught math, history, reading and writing, and how to speak in the native Popstarian language.
“Now once again, where is the shield?
“Poyo? I mean, in Friendly Fields?”
“And what’s it doing in the fields?”
“It’s… sealed? The shield you wield is sealed in Friendly Fields.”
“By George, you’ve got it.”
The only thing Cutlass Knight didn’t teach me was how to fly. She had no wings of her own, and try as she might have to teach me a skill she didn’t have, she simply wasn’t able to. Instead, she enlisted the help of another member of the royal guard: a Birdon by the name of Feather Knight.
“That’s it, Mateo! Just catch the breeze and you’ll go soaring just like your ol’ uncle Feather Knight!”
“You’re… not my uncle?”
“Your momma’s like a big sister to to all us royal guardsmen. That makes me your uncle, don’t it?”
“Dame Cutlass Knight isn’t my-”
“Watch me closely, now; I’m gonna show you how to do a Shuttle Loop!”
That was my life. Studying, aiding in household chores, and, most prevalently, sword training. And as rigorous as that sword training may have been, as exhausting as Cutlass Knight’s teaching methods were, it never did lose its thrill. It was like a new experience every time, with new moves being introduced to me every week, and new strategies that I had to think up for each duel. The sounds of our weapons colliding, the quick footwork, the promise that this hard work would one day lead to knighthood… it gave me an adrenaline rush every time.
Of course, it wasn’t all pleasant. I was Cutlass Knight’s only pupil, so I never had the opportunity to duel anyone with a skill level that matched my own. Cutlass Knight was my only opponent for the longest time, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t match her. I did win a few duels with her, though only because she was going easy on me, but even then my victories were few and far between. It was more than a little frustrating, especially for one as young and impatient as I was, and on more than one occasion I let my irritation get the better of me.
One such instance occurred several years after being taken in by Cutlass Knight. It was nearly noon, and we had been training for the better part of the morning. I had donned a spare helmet, a set of old pauldrons, and a pair of scuffed boots. Cutlass Knight wanted to wait until I was fully grown before having me fitted for my own armor, so the equipment I was using at that age was borrowed or second-hand. By that point I had graduated from a wooden sword to a steel short sword. I was a little young perhaps, but I was eager to begin using a real blade. Stars help me, though, it did not do much to improve my performance.
“Remember what I’ve taught you, Mateo,” said Cutlass Knight as she stared me down from the opposite end of the training room. “Make your movements quick and precise.”
“Feet shoulder-width apart, find my center, keep my eyes on my opponent…” I muttered to myself as I took my position.
“On guard… ready? …Go!”
We each made quick advances toward each other, moving with the swiftness of a Bio Spark. I made the first move, baiting a jab with a feint attack. Cutlass Knight fell for it, and as soon as I thought I saw an opening, I took it. She retreated out of range at the last moment. “Too slow,” she said flatly as she attacked with a quick slash, which I just barely managed to parry. After knocking her blade out of the way, I attempted a riposte, only for her to sidestep and strike me with the flat of her sword. “Too slack.” I recoiled, stumbling backwards before getting back into position. I ran back up to her and performed a lunge, thrusting my weapon towards her. “Too telegraphed!” she exclaimed as she front flipped over me. By the time I turned around to face her, she had begun spinning with her blade, faster than a Shotzo bullet. She became a whirlwind, a cyclone of slashes and slices. I backed away from the barrage of attacks, but she spun toward me, backing me against the wall. Panicked, I held my sword in front of my face to block the attack, only for Cutlass Knight to stop spinning right in front of me and knock the sword out of my hand. “Halt! Not bad. You went almost a minute and a half before I disarmed you.”
I leaned against the wall and pouted. “Only because you went easy on me. When are you going to let me try that spinning move you do?”
Cutlass Knight sheathed her sword. “I’ve already told you, I will teach you the Mach Tornado once you can show me that you have the discipline and control to pull it off.”
I gave an irritated sigh, moving over to retrieve my lost weapon. “But you told me that ages ago! How am I supposed to be a knight if I can’t even learn all of those fancy moves?”
“True knighthood is not measured by how elaborate the knight’s fighting style is. It is measured by their chivalry and dedication.” She gently took the sword from my hand. “Now, that’s enough training for right now. Go get unsuited and wash up for lunch.”
“Aww, Dame Cutlass Knight, not yet! Can’t you just let me try the Mach Tornado? Please?” I looked up at her with pleading eyes, the same expression you might see on a child begging their parent for candy or a new toy.
Cutlass Knight stared blankly for a second, until finally, she handed the sword back to me. “Fine, then. You may try it once.”
I instantly lit up, taking back the sword and moving into the center of the room. I got into my usual ‘on guard’ stance, trying to picture the move that I wanted to perform. All I had to do was spin with the sword, right? It couldn’t be that hard. I took a deep breath, held my sword out flat, and turned on my back heel. Then again, faster this time. I began spinning around as fast as I could, holding my sword out at arm’s length from my body. Cutlass Knight watched me from the end of the room, holding a shield in front of her to protect herself when I inevitably messed something up.
No matter how quickly I spun, I couldn’t figure out how to become a ‘tornado’ the same way my mentor did. What’s more, I felt myself losing control. I was starting to feel dizzy, and my sword was slipping from my hand. Eventually, I completely lost my grip, and the weapon went flying from my grasp and toward the wall. With a loud ‘THUNK,’ the blade embedded itself in the wood paneling. I, meanwhile, lost control of my spinning and crashed into an armor stand, falling to the ground as the armor clattered around me. I groaned in pain as I tried — and failed — to get upright again.
Cutlass Knight calmly walked up to me. “Are you alright?”
I sighed. “…Yes.”
“Good. Now then, I’m sure that will serve as an adequate lesson against biting off more than you can chew.” She moved to where the sword was stuck in the wall and, in one swift motion, pulled it out again.
“What’s the point?” I grumbled, not bothering to get off of the floor. “Maybe I’m not even supposed to be a knight.”
“Well, if you’re so quick to give up after one failure, perhaps you’re right.” Cutlass Knight went back to my side and offered a hand to me. “Come now, do you think Sir Galacta Knight became as revered as he did because he gave up?”
I blinked in confusion. “Who?”
“…Mateo, we went over him in our last history lesson,” she said as she pulled me to my feet. “Tell me you’ve not forgotten already.”
“I, um…” in truth, I more than likely wasn’t paying attention during that lesson. As a child, I didn’t have much interest in subjects such as math and history. They didn’t hold me nearly as much as my more physical lessons, and my mind would usually wander whenever I was given lectures on such things.
Cutlass Knight mumbled something under her breath — most likely a swear of some kind. “I think an impromptu history refresher is in order.”