Y/n Pov

The clang of swords echoed through the medieval courtyard as I faced off against Rudeus in our fencing class. The sun painted patterns of light and shadow on the ancient stones, creating a dynamic backdrop for our training session. The metallic taste of anticipation filled the air as our blades met in a flurry of strikes and parries.

Rudeus, with his calculated moves and well-practiced techniques, proved to be a formidable opponent. The classic techniques we learned under the watchful eye of our instructor, a man named Johan, added a layer of precision to our sparring. Each clash of our swords felt like a dance, a choreography of steel set against the backdrop of the medieval training grounds.

As I lunged forward, attempting to gain the upper hand, Elsie observed from the sidelines, her eyes flickering with a mixture of curiosity and encouragement. The attire she wore added an air of elegance to her presence, and her support fueled my determination to improve.

Ariel, accompanied by her guards Fitz and Luke, watched our training with a discerning gaze. Her interest in the art of fencing mirrored my own, and the medieval setting seemed to enhance the authenticity of our practice. The guards, clad in armor that gleamed in the sunlight, maintained a vigilant stance, ready to intervene if needed.

The Academy courtyard became a stage for our martial display, a testament to the diverse talents within our group. The clash of blades, the rhythmic footwork, and the occasional exchange of banter created a dynamic atmosphere that transcended the boundaries of our training routine.

Luke, with his imposing stature, stood at Ariel's side, his eyes following the ebb and flow of our duel. Fitz, agile and alert, maintained a subtle readiness, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The medieval ambiance seemed to heighten their presence, turning our fencing class into a scene from an epic tale.

The swordmaster raised his hand. "Enough now, change partners." We shifted partners, and I found myself facing Elsie in our fencing class. The anticipation hung in the air, a palpable energy that accompanied the clash of our swords.

Elsie's eyes sparkled with determination, and I couldn't help but appreciate the grace with which she wielded her blade. The blank metal of swords helped to enhance the authenticity of our duel, turning our clash into a performance set against the backdrop of ancient stones.

As our blades met, a dance unfolded—a dance of steel, footwork, and unspoken understanding. Elsie's movements were fluid, her responses unpredictable. The techniques we had learned came alive in our sparring, creating a tableau of martial artistry.

We circled each other, blades engaged in a delicate exchange. The medieval sun cast a warm glow on the courtyard, adding a touch of magic to our duel. The spectators, including Linia, Pursenia, Heine and Juliet, observed with keen interest, the courtyard transformed into a stage for our fencing ballet.

Elsie and I were evenly matched, each parry met with a counter, and every advance met with a strategic retreat. The ebb and flow of our duel painted a picture of mutual respect and skill. The medieval atmosphere seemed to heighten the intensity of our clash, turning the training session into a captivating spectacle.

As the duel neared its conclusion, neither of us yielded ground. Our swords locked in a final embrace, creating a moment of tension that resonated through the medieval courtyard. The onlookers held their breath, witnessing a draw that felt like a fitting conclusion to our evenly matched sparring.

Elsie and I exchanged glances, a shared acknowledgment of our mutual skills. The medieval tapestry of our training session was woven with threads of camaraderie and friendly competition. The courtyard, witness to our dynamic clashes, seemed to carry the echoes of our martial endeavors.

With a nod, Elsie and I lowered our swords, the tension dissipating like the last echoes of a medieval fanfare. The spectators broke into applause, recognizing the skill and finesse displayed in our duel. As we stepped back, the sun casting a warm glow on our faces, there was a shared understanding that our fencing class had not only honed our abilities but had also strengthened the bond between us.

Rudeus came close to me. "You know what. This fight reminded me of one I had in the past, during the training with a teacher and a noble I was at." He stated. I raised an eyebrow as I took deep breaths. "She even has the same hair color as Elsie and temper." He stated.

"Really, who was your teacher?" I asked as he leaned back on the bench. "She's a beast race human of the Dedoldia clan." He said and then motioned to me. "You aren't a novice either, who was yours?" He asked and I smirked proudly. "My teacher is Irene Belserion, Spriggan 12 and master enchantress with unpaired swordsmanship." I replied and his mouth went agape.

"I've heard tales of her, isn't she a 400 year old dragon human?" He asked excited and I nodded. "And who's she, she looks so much like her." He motioned to Elsie who was talking to Ariel.

I paled for a moment not expecting this question. "She's Elsie Eleanor Dragnof, Irene's daughter." I said and Rudeus nudged me. "That's interesting, the strongest enchantress in the world has a daughter and you are always with her." He smirked. "Something is going on." He mocked and I blushed faintly. "Well, I count myself lucky to have somone like her."

The Academies courtyard shifted partners once more, and I found myself facing Luke, Ariel's imposing guard. The clash of our swords resonated in the air, the echoes of our sparring filling the training grounds. Luke, with his formidable stature and expert swordsmanship, proved to be a challenging opponent.

As our blades danced in a flurry of strikes and parries, the medieval sun casting shadows on the courtyard, I marveled at Luke's skill. The clash of steel and the rhythmic footwork created a symphony of martial prowess that spoke to the training both of us had undergone.

After an intense exchange, we lowered our swords, the air heavy with the residue of our duel. Luke's armor gleamed in the sunlight as he offered a nod of respect. We caught our breath, leaning on our swords, and a camaraderie born from shared combat and mutual respect settled between us.

"Good match," Luke remarked, his voice carrying the weight of our training. "Your skills are commendable." He heaved a heavy breath

"Likewise," I replied, acknowledging the mutual respect that had developed over the course of our relentless sparring. My eyes shifted over to Elsie who had been observing the fight together with Ariel.

As we took a moment to recover, the conversation took an unexpected turn. Luke, with a wry smile, decided to delve into a topic that was seemingly unrelated to our fencing.

"Speaking of matches," he began, his gaze fixed on the clear horizon, "what's your taste in women?"

The question caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected words. "Well," I replied, "I appreciate a woman with strength, resilience, and, I suppose, a certain charm."

Luke grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ah, you're a man of refined taste."

"And what about you?" I inquired, genuinely curious about his preferences.

Luke leaned in, his expression conspiratorial. "I have a soft spot for women with... ample charms, especially in the bust department. There's something about a lady with a bit of—how should I put it?—well stacked."

A hearty laugh escaped me, realizing that our tastes aligned in a rather unexpected manner. The medieval courtyard, witness to our sparring and now our banter, seemed to embrace the camaraderie forged in the most unexpected moments.

"Seems like we have similar inclinations," I remarked, shaking my head in amusement.

Luke clapped me on the shoulder, his laughter joining mine. "Indeed, my friend. It seems even in matters of the heart, our swords find common ground."

And so, amidst the echoes of our medieval duel and laughter, Luke and I found a shared understanding that transcended the boundaries of combat—a camaraderie woven with threads of humor and unexpected revelations about our tastes in women.

"So, Y/n," Luke began, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You and Elsie, huh? Quite the dynamic duo in the fencing class."

A smile played on my lips as I considered Elsie's prowess with a sword. "Yeah, she's got a natural talent for it. We make a good team."

Luke nodded, his gaze shifting towards the medieval horizon. "And what about Ariel? She's no stranger to the art of combat herself."

Ariel's name brought a different set of thoughts to mind. "True, Ariel's skilled, and her magical abilities add another layer to her ability to fight, she'd be an easy match for anyone right now, unless if she can use magic in the free hand."

Luke chuckled, the sound carrying a knowing tone. "You know, they're quite the pair—Elsie and Ariel. Different, yet complementing each other in a charming sort of way."

I raised an eyebrow, curious about Luke's perspective. "How so?"

"Elsie, with her skill in swordsmanship and enchantments, embodies the true spirit of a warrior. Ariel, on the other hand, brings the arcane, the mystical. They create a balance, a yin and yang of combat styles that makes our group formidable."

The observation struck a chord. I hadn't thought about it in such terms, but Luke's insight brought a new appreciation for the unique strengths Elsie and Ariel brought to our fencing class.

"And you, Luke," I prompted, shifting the focus of our conversation, "what's your take on our group dynamics?"

He grinned, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Well, I'm here to ensure Ariel stays safe. Fitz and I are the princess guardians, you know? Just like Heine and Juliet with Elsie. But it's more than that. There's a camaraderie, a shared purpose that binds us together."

In the medieval fencing class, the focus shifted from the clang of swords to the study of theory. The teacher was rather unusual when it came to it, first practice then theory. The ancient stones of the courtyard were the setting for a different kind of dance—one of shared knowledge and understanding. As Elsie and I delved into the intricacies of fencing theory, there was a subtle undercurrent of attraction that played out in stolen glances. "The lot of you may be of different years but the fencing class is the only one which is based on skill, of which you all have the highest one." The teacher remarked proudly.

Elsie, with her sharp mind and keen interest in the classic art of combat, absorbed the theoretical aspects with an intensity that captivated me. Her eyes, occasionally lifting from the pages of the manual we studied, met mine in moments that lingered longer than necessary. The gentle sun, casting a warm glow on the courtyard, seemed to highlight the connection forged through shared intellectual pursuit.

As we discussed the principles of footwork, the angles of attack, and the strategic nuances of fencing, Elsie's glances held a certain warmth—a subtle invitation to delve deeper into the subject or, perhaps, into something beyond the realm of theory. The medieval ambiance added a timeless quality to our scholarly pursuits, turning the courtyard into a haven for shared intellectual exploration.

During breaks in our study, our eyes met in a silent conversation. There was a playfulness in those glances, a recognition of the shared enjoyment of unraveling the mysteries of medieval combat. The theoretical foundation we built became a bridge between us, allowing for moments of connection that extended beyond the pages of the manual.

In those stolen glances, I sensed a camaraderie that transcended the boundaries of academic discussion. Elsie's passion for the medieval art of fencing mirrored my own, and the unspoken understanding between us created an atmosphere of shared enthusiasm. The medieval courtyard, witness to our scholarly pursuits, seemed to echo with the unspoken language of attraction that unfolded in the dance of glances.

As we continued our exploration of fencing theory, the exchange of glances became a subtle undercurrent, weaving its way through the fabric of our shared intellectual journey. The medieval courtyard, with its timeless stones and the promise of uncharted knowledge, became a stage for a different kind of dance—one where the steps were taken not with swords but with the understanding that a connection, born from shared interests, was blossoming amidst the pages of our studies.

"Class is over students." The teacher shouted pulling out a flask. I looked over to Elsie who was sitting on a nearby stone wall swaying her legs gently with Rose right next to her. "Elsie do you want to go into town to spend a day together?" She jumped down landing on top of me with her hands against my chest. I caught her barely while she was still in the air. "That sounds delightful Y/n, lets go right now." She replied overjoyed."

She hesitated for a moment. "But could we please make it tomorrow, I don't really feel so well right now, you know its that time." She replied and I nodded. "Rest well then and I can't wait for our date." I stated and she blushed lightly. "A date!" She squaked lightly.

All of a sudden I felt a change in the air and the girls left, leaving only the guys at the fencing ground.

Elsie Pov

In the confides of Ariels room, with its low-hanging beams and ambient candlelight, provided a cozy setting for my friends to discuss the upcoming date with Y/n. The wooden table creaked slightly as they leaned in, their expressions a mix of excitement and camaraderie.

I with Rose, my Exceed cat, in her lap, started the conversation, "Well, as you've heard Y/n asked me out on a date. I want this to be special, something that Y/n will remember. What do you think, girls?"

Ariel, her mystical presence unmistakable, leaned forward, "How about infusing a bit of magic into the evening? You could enchant a small medieval trinket—a charm, perhaps—that captures the essence of your connection and captures his heart making him fall for you."

Heine, ever the practical one, added, "Consider the venue carefully. A medieval garden or even a charming tea house could set the perfect backdrop for a romantic evening."

Juliet, with her penchant for romance, chimed in, "And what about a dance? A medieval-style dance under the moonlight. It adds a touch of magic and intimacy to the night."

Elinalise, the wise and thoughtful friend, suggested, "Don't forget to incorporate Y/n's interests into the plans. Whether it's a shared activity or a conversation about his dreams, making the date personal will make it even more meaningful."

As the aray of ideas flowed, the friends delved into every possibility, creating a tapestry of potential experiences for Y/n and I. The rooom echoed with laughter and the clinking of glasses as we brainstormed, each suggestion weaving into the collective vision of the perfect evening.

Ariel, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, proposed, "What if you both embraced a bit of medieval role-play? Imagine strolling through the town as characters from a medieval tale, a playful and imaginative twist to the evening."

The suggestion sparked laughter and animated discussions as they imagined the medieval adventures Y/n and I could embark upon during our date.

As they continued to explore ideas, Elsie felt a deep sense of gratitude for the supportive friends surrounding her. The medieval-themed brainstorming session wasn't just about planning a date; it became a shared moment of joy, friendship, and creativity.

With plans taking shape, I couldn't help but smile at the many inspired possibilities that awaited Y/n and I. The anticipation of the upcoming date now held the promise of magic, romance, and the warmth of shared moments with cherished friends.