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should be sleeping to minimize the chance anyone is looking. However, it doesn't make a difference. Everyday I have to put power back into it.” She looked thoughtfully at Lindon's sleeping form.
    “We will just have to wait and see what all he can do. He has shown no signs of having power nor has he in all the time we have lived here. The prophecy doesn't say much about it either, only that when the time is right he will meet his destiny.”
    Cora and Arden didn't say any more.

Chapter 5
     
    Lindon was standing before Arden ready to practice with real swords. He had mixed feelings. On one hand, he was happy that Arden thought he was ready, but on the other, he was scared almost to the point of panic. It was one thing to get hit with a wooden sword and receive a bruise or two, but if he took a blow with real swords, he could lose a limb or worse, his life.
    “Alright, Lindon, draw your weapon like your life depended on it, because it does.” The menacing way in which he said it almost made Lindon hesitate, but after a month of constant training and conditioning, he pulled his sword like he would for battle.
    “Hold,” Arden commanded. “Do you see how your blade is angled?”
    Lindon looked at the blade and realized that when he grabbed hold of the blade and pulled it out, he turned his hand a little and as a result, the edge was facing slightly upward. In a battle, he would not be in the right position to deflect a strike.
    “I want you to pull and sheath your weapon a thousand times. Every time your blade is in the wrong position, start the count at one again. Got it?” Arden's tone weighted the situation.
    Lindon didn't speak but instead stood there and pulled and sheathed his sword repeatedly. At first, he could only get a few correct in a row before he would have to start over.
    By the end of the day, Lindon had hardly any feeling in his arm. The most he had been able to get up to was seven hundred before he made a small mistake and had to start over. He wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to lift his arm to start again in the morning.
    Arden brought some liniment over to him. “Rub this into your shoulder.”
     
    The next morning, Lindon had come up with a plan to get around the fact that his arm felt like mush. With a few adjustments to the sheath, he could use his other hand today for the exercise.
    Arden watched Lindon's progress with obvious amazement. In less than half a day, Lindon had managed to pull his weapon a thousand times—with his left hand—while only having to start over twice. Lindon would learn later that the potential for him to be a two-handed fighter had never crossed Arden’s mind. There were very few swordsmen that could use two weapons and with his speed and two swords. Lindon could be one of the best.
    After Lindon had done the exercise with his left hand, he undid the changes to the sheath so that he could practice with his right hand. On his first attempt, pulled one thousand times without a mistake. His weapon felt like it just appeared in either hand without effort.
    Not quite ready to stop and rest, Lindon transferred the sword back into his left hand and tried some of the routines that he'd been taught. They were clumsy at first, but before long they would flow together almost like a dance. Still not satisfied and feeling like something was missing, he went back to the woodpile looking for another piece of wood that was close to sword shape and length. Finding a suitable stick, he took it over to the rock that he had made his first wooden practice sword and started shaping another.
    Cora and Arden simply watched, not speaking.
    Satisfied that the wooden sword was the right shape and angle to his real one, he stood and moved to the open space that they had been using for practice. Lindon walked though one of the routines at first, slowly to get the feel for the second weapon and where it belonged. Bit by bit, he increased the speed of the blades. As he grew in comfort