How to help an entire camp with only the desire to? Isabel didn’t know how, really. Yet Lazarus gave her this mission, and like an idiot, she accepted it without thinking. It wasn’t that she was disorganized, she simply felt out of place. How could a sixteen-year-old teenager from the Golden League help the higher leagues? The girl knew she could help the lower leagues, since they were slightly younger and less strong, yet she would be helping older people than her. She wasn’t the best. The principal should’ve chosen someone else than her. 

In fact, she barely even joined a few days or a few weeks ago. Isabel didn’t count the days since she came, but it wasn't her most important concern. How was she supposed to manage their safety, their talent? Some of them were born with it, but others did as well have their capacities growing through time, although they weren’t necessarily born with them. The teen would have to tell those teens and those adults things that they surely already knew, as she learned those manners when she came to camp. 

Of course, the girl and her sister weren’t as experienced as all these higher trainees. Yet Mr. Jalikee chose her for that reason, whether he chose her by obligation, a stupid impulse, or a recognition of her “talent.” Isabel wouldn’t have called her aim talent, yet she couldn’t deny the fact that she was touched by the man’s word- he saw a potential. In a way, it reassured the Italian, but how to deal with them was the difficulty. 

It’s not like I have great abilities to speak in public. I don’t even know what to do in front of them. I’m probably going to look stupid stammering with my cheeks all red, fidgeting with my fingers. I feel confident talking to the lower ranks, but the older ones are going to wonder what a sixteen-year-old girl at a lower level is doing in front of them telling them things they already know. Isabel couldn’t stop her thoughts from wandering around, spreading ideas like a prolific author. 

She sat on her bed, holding her head in her hands, taking deep breaths. It’s just a little speech I’ll be telling them, nothing more. I’m overreacting, I shouldn’t be acting this way. Although Isabel was embarrassed, she knew that all of this was justified. She felt helpless and stupid for accepting the man’s offer. He wanted her to do that, visibly, if he searched for a god strong candidate. 

You’ll have to train the lower ranks today at eleven, Lazarus told her before letting her go. Which means she had to train Bronze League, Silver League, along with Golden League. Of course, her speech wouldn’t be this long for the Golden league considering they were her level. According to the principal though, Isabel was better than everyone else. She didn’t believe him, yet she couldn’t argue with the principal himself. 

The teen tried to compose herself. She couldn’t be freaking out like this, it couldn’t be this hard, could it? First off, she’d see her sister in the bronze league, to try and evaluate her and her comrade's abilities. Overall, she’d watch them train and go along by giving comments. As easy as that, right? The Italian hoped it was the case. And so, slowly and surely, she went to the bronze league campus. 

*** 

From the simple view of them, it was obvious that they were a lower level than her. Most of them had difficulties wielding their weapons, stumbling down. They were all around Lucia’s age, or even younger, yet not younger than ten years of age. They hadn’t noticed Isabel just yet. Theyw ere focused on the task, their personal trainer standing alongside them and giving advice. The man heard her walking over and instantly nodded, clapping his hands together to make the kids react, pacing around the place. 

“Trainees of the Bronze League, listen up! Here is Isabel Fletcher, a chosen one from the Golden League! She will be evaluating your abilities and helping you out! You don’t have to be anxious, just do your best and act like she’s not here, understood?” 

Children and teenagers agreed silently, some being indifferent while others were immediately freaking out, looking away and biting their lower lips. Isabel tried to ignore the number of eyes that were on her, waiting for something to happen. The coach then whistled and gestured to the training spaces, trying to make them understand what they had to do. They all rushed to training places and started working their best. 

In the meanwhile, the eldest stood there silently, fidgeting with her fingers, unsure of what to do. Did she have to talk generally, or one by one? How would they react to the view of someone that was considered a chosen one while she isn’t even in the highest rank? The girl tried to ignore her thoughts, shutting her eyes tightly and breathing deeply. Just walk around and act like you know what you’re doing. She told herself as she walked around, joining her hands behind her back and scrutinizing every child one by one, smiling weakly. 

“Psst...Isa!” A voice called her out, a low mumble. 

“W-what? Who is it?” The concerned one replied as she looked around anxiously, trying not to show how anxious she was. Lucia was the only one who called her Isa, yet although she scanned the area, she couldn’t find her younger sister anywhere. 

“I’m right behind you, silly. It’s Lucia.” The youngest spoke as Isabel shifted to her. “I just wanted to know if you could give me a few tricks. I've been stuck in that league for a few weeks now, and I can’t understand what I’m doing wrong. I feel like I don’t belong here” 

The teen’s expression softened, and she reached out to cup Lucia’s chin. She was slightly mad at her for thinking like that, yet she was upset to see how low her self-esteem was. She tried to find something smart and reassuring to say, but all that she could think of was: 

“I mean, we all belong somewhere.” 

Lucia sighed, her blue eyes sparkling with sadness as she folded her arms and looked away. She looked around, eyeing the other children that tried their best. Slowly, her shoulders slumped down, and when she dared to look back at her sister, her gaze directed to the floor. She couldn’t bring herself to meet Isabel’s eyes. 

“They’re all better than me. Look at me, I’m not even a good fighter. I don’t have the skills, I’m not even sporty. You know I’m more of an inside person, so this kind of thing can’t work. It might work for you, but not for me. I do everything wrong, it must mean I don’t have my place here...” 

“Listen up, Lu.” The eldest spoke in a cold tone, speaking in a confident tone. “It’s not gonna work if you keep thinking like that. Of course, if you keep believing that you’ll fail and that you won’t do it, your job will be even worse. Believe in yourself, that’s what you need. Maybe you just need to correct your posture.” 

Quickly, Lucia agreed and walked off, leaving her sister standing there in the middle of the place. She didn’t mind it, though. She had to correct everyone, and not just her own sister. Isabel gazed at every single one of them, trying to understand what their problem was and why they couldn’t do it. They knew how to lunge very well, and their grips were firm. And yet, there was something in their posture, in the way they held the weapon. She knew it was something, but she couldn’t quite figure out what exactly it was. I get it now. 

And so, the girl called out everyone, clapping her hand as she brought both of her hands in front of her chin to make her voice be heard by everyone else. Slowly, everyone began dropping their weapons and shifting to her, their eyes wide with fear and anticipation. They all held their breath, and even though everyone was looking at Isabel, she remained calm. Which is something she usually has difficulty doing. 

“Alright Golden League you can quit your fighting.” She spoke softly, tilting her head to the side as she grinned.” Why? Because I found out what the problem was. Everyone’s problem. You wanna know what it is? The posture. The grip is firm, and you guys know how to lunge, very well. Your coach did a rather respectable job, yet he forgot one thing: the posture.”  

Isabel paused, taking in everyone’s reactions. They all seemed confused, scratching the back of their necks, and wondering how bad it really was. They shifted to their coach, yet he didn’t flinch, curious, his eyes glued to the girl, convinced that she could help him progress. 

“Your confidence, also known as your self-esteem. I noticed that most of you didn’t feel like you were doing very well, and you always hesitated before each action. In a battle, you can’t be unsure of what you’re doing to do, you act smart and strategically. You don’t want to mind how good you look, because the most important thing is to survive and to fight off your opponent. And as for your posture, you want to wield your weapon with both hands. That’s the only issue you have left.” 

Confident, all the trainees applauded and whistled, glad to realize that they had this type of problem and that THEY weren’t the problem. They all knew she was right. Isabel couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at the thought that they valued her a lot. Most of all, Lucia was happy to see Isabel confident, which made Isabel even more confident that she had made Lucia happy. 

*** 

At the end, it wasn’t as bad as Isabel expected. For now, she had only helped the Bronze League, the Silver League, and the Golden league, which wasn’t so bad. Each one of them had a problem, even the Golden League where she was in. The Bronze League wasn’t confident enough, the Silver League were defending theirselves too much, as the Golden League was too busy gossiping and not focusing on the task. If that wasn’t the problem, then they’d be way too aggressive, hurting their classmates in the process. 

Not that this was done, it didn’t bother Isabel a lot. Her biggest worry was how to deal with the higher ranks; they were stronger than her, and she’d probably have to teach them things that they already knew and embarrassed herself in front of adults that would glare at me and judge her. Tomorrow at five is what Lazarus said. Hopefully I'm good enough....