Morning Sword Drills

I pushed past the wooden door and stepped right onto the massive, mossy bough to start morning combat practice. The air was cool, and huge crystal beads of dew sat perched along a curled fern leaf beside my boots. I drew my golden sword with two hands, set my stance wide on the rough bark, and hammered out twenty clean, sharp lunges against invisible shadow beasts. Every thrust cut straight through the morning sunbeams, sending a quick golden flash across the timber. By the last swing, my plush arms felt totally worked, but my footing never slipped an inch. A hero has to stay sharp before evil even wakes up.