First of many I hope. Please let me know what you think, advice helps too.
"One who trains his body and soul to fight the enemy with all his might."
Back twist… right… left… half circle… quarter turn… extend… slash… retract… stab… dodge… flip…left… The wind whistled as twin blades cut through the air, shattering the peace of the forest clearing. It did not halt the user in his training, nor did it encourage him. He just continued swinging his swords in a style unfamiliar to the lands; for it was his own, and nobody else's.
Unseen enemies were slain with each stroke, and each stroke shifted to a more complex series of motion. Sweat glittered in the setting sun. The boy failed to notice, too enraptured by his mind telling him where to strike next, reminding him that the enemy would never let him catch his breath; that one wrong move would see him dead.
So, he was unrelenting in his swords' clean slices through the air. How long he trained, only the Moon knew, but as all humans' must his energy soon failed. The boy laid there in the grass, hands refusing to let go of the swords that almost willed him to get up, panting with harsh breaths. Turning his head slightly to the left, warm brown eyes locked onto to a gloved hand: to white wrappings covering a lump.
Brown eyes hardened slightly, and, as if the last two hours of training had never happened, the boy was standing. Two feet apart, swords drawn and ready, he waited for an unseen signal. Whatever it was it came and soon he was back to his dance. The one only he knew. Back twist… right… left… half circle… quarter turn… extend… slash… retract… stab… dodge… flip…left…