GOT the silence before the storm

Chapter 2: Lessons in Storms and Strategy

Year: 275 AC

The rain continued to pour over the Stormlands, as relentless as ever. It was as if the very land had a grudge against anyone brave enough to call it home. Marcus stood in the courtyard of Whitehead Keep, clutching the wooden sword Ser Randall had handed him. The old knight, with his grizzled face and constant scowl, was watching him like he expected Marcus to drop dead from sheer incompetence any second.

"Hold it properly, lad," Ser Randall barked, crossing his arms. "You're not swatting flies here. That's a sword, not a broomstick."

Marcus sighed, glancing at the sword in his hands. It wasn't heavy, but his ten-year-old arms might as well have been twigs for all the strength they had. He adjusted his grip and gave the sword a tentative swing. Of course, the blade wobbled in the air, and Ser Randall audibly groaned.

"Gods help us," Ser Randall muttered, shaking his head. "Your father would have my head if he saw you like this."

Marcus smirked, looking up at the knight. "Well, lucky for you, my father barely looks at me," he said. "So your head's safe... for now."

Ser Randall narrowed his eyes. "You're a cheeky one, aren't you?"

"Cheeky? Me? Never," Marcus replied, giving him an exaggerated innocent look. "I prefer to think of it as... strategic wit. Keeps people guessing."

The knight let out a huff, pacing around him like a cat ready to pounce. "You'll need more than wit when someone comes at you with a real blade."

Marcus rolled his eyes but tried to mimic the stance Ser Randall had shown him earlier. It wasn't easy. After all, his last lesson in combat involved wielding nothing heavier than a dry erase marker.

He swung the wooden sword again, this time with a little more control. Ser Randall grunted in approval.

"Better," he muttered. "Now do it a hundred more times."

Marcus groaned but complied. "You know, Randall," he said between swings, "in another life, I was a teacher. Not a fighter."

"Then the gods did you no favors by putting you in this one," Ser Randall said flatly.

"Tell me about it," Marcus muttered under his breath.

From a distance, Sun Tzu watched the scene unfold. The ancient strategist had taken on his role as Marcus's mentor with a calmness that Marcus found strangely reassuring and a bit intimidating, too.

"You swing like a farmer chasing crows," Sun Tzu called out, his voice drifting across the courtyard.

Marcus paused and wiped his brow. "Thanks for the encouragement, Master Tzu," he called back. "Really gives me the confidence to keep going."

"Confidence comes from preparation," Sun Tzu said, folding his hands behind his back like he was in the middle of a lecture. "And preparation begins with discipline. If you cannot master a wooden sword, how will you command men in battle?"

Marcus straightened, his expression thoughtful. Sun Tzu was right, but it was still hard to picture himself leading an army. He was still getting used to the idea of being reborn in Westeros, let alone being chosen to receive lessons from legendary figures.

"Alright, alright," Marcus said, raising the sword again. "Discipline it is. But don't expect any miracles. I'm still getting the hang of this whole 'child lord with a destiny' thing."

Sun Tzu chuckled softly. "A long journey begins with a single step, Marcus. Or, in your case, with a single swing."

Marcus grinned, liking Sun Tzu's dry humor. It made the whole "training to be a great leader" thing seem a little less terrifying. Not that it would stop Ser Randall from yelling at him every five seconds.

As the lesson wore on, Marcus felt his technique improve. The swings started to feel smoother, his grip more secure. By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the courtyard, he felt a small sense of accomplishment.

"That's enough for today," Ser Randall said, stepping forward to take the wooden sword from Marcus's hands. "You've done better than I expected. But don't get too cocky. You've still got a long way to go."

Marcus nodded, too exhausted to come up with anything witty. He looked over at Sun Tzu, who gave him a slight nod of approval.

"Well done," Sun Tzu said. "You learn quickly when you apply yourself."

"Thanks," Marcus said, collapsing onto a nearby bench. "But I think my arms are going to fall off. Is this what knights do all day? Just swing swords until they can't feel their fingers?"

"Knights swing swords," Sun Tzu said with a faint smile. "Generals plan wars."

Marcus chuckled, leaning back against the bench. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I've got you, Master Tzu. Planning wars sounds a lot more interesting than swinging swords."

"Indeed," Sun Tzu agreed. "But remember, even the greatest generals must understand the ways of the sword. How can you lead men into battle if you do not understand their struggles?"

Marcus sighed, nodding reluctantly. "Fair point. Fine, I'll keep at it. But if I start complaining, just... ignore me."

"Complaints are the sign of a sharp mind," Sun Tzu said, his face unreadable. "As long as they do not distract you from the task at hand."

Marcus grinned. "Well, that's good, because I've got plenty of those."

Later that evening, Marcus sat by the hearth in his chambers, picking at a plate of roasted meat and bread. The room was warm, the fire crackling softly, and Sun Tzu stood nearby, hands clasped behind his back, studying the flames.

"I've been thinking," Marcus said, between bites of food. "About what you said earlier. About discipline and preparation."

Sun Tzu nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"I think I get it now," Marcus said, his tone more serious. "This world... it's not like the one I came from. It's brutal. Unforgiving. If I'm going to survive if I'm going to make a difference I need to be ready for whatever comes my way."

Sun Tzu's gaze softened slightly, and he moved closer to the fire. "You are correct. This world is not kind. But it is also full of opportunities for those willing to seize them. You have the potential to shape your destiny. The question is, are you willing to put in the effort?"

Marcus looked down at his plate, his thoughts spinning. He had always been fascinated by history the rise and fall of great leaders. But now, he wasn't just an observer. He was part of the story.

"I am," he said finally, his voice steady. "I don't know what's waiting for me out there, but I'll be ready for it. One step at a time."

Sun Tzu smiled faintly. "Good. Then let us begin your next lesson."

Marcus groaned, but there was a glimmer of determination in his eyes. "Can I at least finish my dinner first?"

"You may," Sun Tzu replied. "But do not take too long. History waits for no one."

With a chuckle, Marcus dug into his food, the firelight dancing across his face. For the first time since his reincarnation, he felt a sense of purpose. It wouldn't be easy, but with Sun Tzu at his side, he was ready to face the storms ahead.

One swing, one step, one plan at a time.