Mia: Oh... It's you? YOU!? RHYS!? Well, can't be picky, I guess... Hiyaaa! Take this weapon, cur!
Rhys: Um... Oh, hello, Mia. What is this? A sword? Yes, I think that's right... Ooof! It's heavy!
Mia: Yessir! Who would have thought it was gonna be you!? Funny, that. Now... Get ready! En garde!
Rhys: Yaaaa! Wait! S-stop, please! I don't know what's going on! I c-can't use weapons!
Mia: Whaaat!? Oh, come on. You can use them a little, right? Riiiight?
Rhys: No! I've never even touched one before... B-but if you just want me to hold it, I can. Hmmm... I hold this end, right?
Mia: ...Oh, this is so disappointing! I had my fortune read the other day, and the old crone told me that I'd soon come across my one true foe! "With white robes flowing in the breeze, your archrival rides toward you..." Oh, I was so looking forward to it!
Rhys: Um...sorry to disappoint you. I'm pretty sure that it's not me.
Mia: Aw, it's not your fault, Rhys. I was just prepped for a big fight with my archrival, and then you came walking by... Thought maybe it was you, you know?
Rhys: Um... I can just stand here and hold the sword if you want to hit it a few times.
Mia: Nah, forget it. I don't want you to get hurt. I'll give up for today... Shucks.
Rhys: Oh, hello, Mia. Um... You're not going to throw a sword at me again, are you?
Mia: Huh? Oh, heya, Rhys. I was hoping to run into someone today... And guess what? You showed up!
Rhys: Ahhh! Not that fortune-telling again! L-look, I d-didn't mean to interrupt you... Let me just back away now...
Mia: No! Stick around! I could be wrong. Maybe fortune-telling can't predict the future after all... Too bad! That crone had a great reputation. Wait... Maaaaaybe...
Mia: Do you want to train with me, Rhys?
Mia: Oh, why didn't I see it before! You have what it takes to be a legendary swordsman! You just don't realize it yet. There is awesome potential within you. And when you finally realize it, you'll end up clashing with me as my grand archrival!
Rhys: Hah! Haaa.... Um... I don't think that's likely to happen, Mia. Although...it's true that I once wanted to be a fighter, back when I was a frail child.
Mia: Aha! I knew it! You can't give up unharnessed talent like yours just because you're frail! Give it a try. C'mon! I'll train you myself! We'll start with the basics.
Mia: Of course...even if I am training the man that will one day be my most hated rival! We better get cracking!
Mia: Uhhh...look, I'm really sorry. It looks like I pushed you a little hard.
Rhys: No...I wanted to be a myrmidon. And I had fun... Well...before the cramps started. Oooh, the cramps... Yaaaaa...
Mia: Are you sure you're well? You've been running a fever for days! Are you really going to battle like this?
Rhys: It'll be fine. I'm not overdoing it. I'll just support everyone from the rearguard. And I'll have you looking out for me, right?
Mia: Of course! I feel responsible for your safety. I always try to look out for you and make sure you're holding up. You know, I've been thinking for a bit... And... Um... And I've decided to stop believing in fortune-telling.
Rhys: Well...maybe the fortune's meaning was just mixed up--
Mia: Hogwash! No more excuses! It's all a bunch of hooey! But hey, wait a second... "With white robes flowing in the breeze, your archrival rides toward you..." ...RIDES toward you... Could he be a mounted soldier and not a myrmidon?
Mia: You may be horse-riding material, Rhys. Yeah, that's it! Marching is a lot easier on horseback. Wouldn't that be better for you?
Rhys: What!? Me on h-horseback!?
Mia: Yeah! You wear white, too! Don't you think you'd look dashing on horseback!? Swing your staff from the top of a horse and I'll fight in style beside you!
Rhys: Whoa...hold it right there, Mia...
Mia: All right! It's settled, then! We've got to get you training!
Rhys: Hold it! You've got the wrong guy...
Mia: No, I don't. We're destined to meet!
Rhys: We are?
Mia: Yes! I can't think of anyone else that could be the man of my destiny!
Rhys: D-destiny!? Wait a second... I thought I was your archrival!
Mia: Never mind the details! I am counting on you, Rhys!
Mia: I can't seem to focus today. I sense my foes out there, hiding in the trees and snickering at me! Haaaa! Take that, foe! You know, I haven't seen Ilyana lately. I hope she's all right. Hmm... Well, can't do anything about it now... I need to get back to practice. One...two...strike! One...two...stab! Hey! What was that?
Mia:: Ugh! What did I just step on? It feels...squishy.
Mia: Aaaack! Why are you on the ground?! Are you dead? Gravely injured? Perhaps slightly wounded?
Ilyana: No, no...
Mia: Well? What's wrong?
Ilyana: I'm just...hungry.
Mia: Huh? Hungry? Why don't you quit your whining and have a biscuit?
Ilyana: So...hungry. Please...if you have anything...
Mia: Hold on a minute! Don't tell me you're always staggering around and fainting because you need a snack!
Ilyana: Yes... As soon as I finish eating, I get hungry again. That's why I faint.
Mia: Well, I don't have any food on me right now. I'll go get you something right away, though. We can't have you passed out on the ground like this!
Ilyana: Please...don't leave...
Mia: Whoa there! Let go! Hey! Stop trying to eat my foot!
Mia: No, no, no! I can't have you feasting on my limbs! Somebody bring this girl some food! Anything, people! Old leather shoes, fruitcake...anything!
Mia: They're huge! By the way, I'm Mia. I'm a myrmidon searching for a sworn rival. Do you want to spar?
Largo: Spar? With you? Ummm... I don't know.
Mia: What do you mean you don't know?
Largo: I'm not sure how I feel about sparring with a girl.
Mia: But I'm a dangerous myrmidon! A graceful whirlwind of singing steel!
Largo: I don't know how to put this, but... shouldn't you be doing something more domestic than fighting with a sword? I don't know...maybe knitting? Or cooking? I guess you could learn to be a mage...
Mia: ...For your personal safety, I hope you aren't saying that I can't fight because I'm a woman.
Mia: All right, you brought this on yourself! Get ready to fight!
Largo: Uhhh... I was only saying that people need to be more peaceful. Yeah...that's it. Hey, I've got an idea! Let's see who can knit better.
Mia: You fought...hard...that time! Who do you think won?
Largo: It was close, but I think you beat me again.
Mia: Are you sure?
Largo: Yep. I'm bushed.
Mia: You didn't go easy on me because I'm a woman, did you?
Largo: Not at all. It's just that I'm no match for that sword arm of yours.
Mia: ...Ooooh, boy... I'm beat! I think I'll go grab some sleep.
Largo: Wait.... I know you're tired, but can I ask you one question?
Largo: Why push yourself so hard?
Mia: Because I've been told too many times that a sword doesn't belong in the hands of a woman. I've got something to prove.
Largo: Oh...I get it.
Mia: I understand if I lose to someone with better technique. When that happens, I can always hone my skills and work on getting more combat experience. If I lose, it's not because I'm a woman. It's because someone trained harder than me. And if that happens, I'll hone my skills and come back to beat them.
Largo: Ahhh... Now I understand how you clobbered me so badly! But I can't just lick my wounds. I'll have to take your advice, get back to practice, and challenge you again one day.
Mia: You said you wanted a rematch. When do you want to do it? You want a chance to redeem yourself, right?
Largo: Bwaaa ha haaaa! I'm impressed, kid! I'll just have to keep fighting you until I win!