Stardom Reset: From Washed-Up Actor To Global Superstar

Relaxing into a levelled stance, his breathing controlled, Niall’s footwork propelled him forward towards the instructor with a focused expression, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

The wooden longsword prop gripped in his palm cut through the air with a dull whoosh, the distance closing between he and the instructor.

The instructor met him halfway, their blades clacking with a sharp, hollow crack that reverberated through Niall’s arms.

”You’re still a tad bit stiff. Ease on the footwork.” the man corrected, his own swing pressing forward and forcing Niall to give ground.

Adjusting effortlessly in response, his steps lighter and more deliberate, Niall pivoted sideways and shifted his back foot an inch further.

The correction was subtle, but it changed everything for the young actor, his movements flowing just a fraction smoother as he effortlessly parried the instructor’s next strike.

His recovery was even quicker as he thrust forwards instantly, earning an impressed nod from the instructor.

[The Promised Queen].

It was a big budget movie of over $150 million that was backed heavily by Silver-Crest Studios, one of Hollywood’s renowned blockbuster film studios.

With an equally strong cast of A-listers, the movie was by far one of the most anticipated movies of the year.

Now in the late-to-final stages of pre-production, a part of which involved some last-minute location scouting in England for its rustic forests and castles, the movie was fast approaching production in full-swing.

Following a reimagining of the Arthurian fiction, the story followed the prosperous Kingdom of Camelot decades before the birth of Arthur Pendragon.

The premise of the story itself had been simple.

The Kingdom of Camelot’s Royal Family, upon subduing the Kingdom of Lancelot in their frequent wars and clashes, go on a royal progress as a show of strength, only for things to go south fast.

With the King and Queen of Camelot ambushed and killed at the royal banquet by Duke Morlund, the Captain of Camelot’s knight order whom had secretly been in cahoots with the enemy kingdom, half of the knight order turn on him.

That was where the plot of the story had truly begun.

Revolving centrally around its Princess, Igraine Wledig, whom had survived the ambush and Duke Uther Pendragon, whom had safely escorted her back as Acting Captain of the Knight order, the plot had followed the many dangers Igraine, Uther and her few loyal knights had to overcome.

A heavy focus of their journey back to Camelot, had also being the gradual transformation of the princess from a naive and quixotic young lady, into a wise and pragmatic woman fit for the throne.

That said, of the five loyal knights whom had escorted Igraine back alongside Uther, was Julien Lancaster.

Personal knight to the princess whom had secretly been in love with her all his life.

In any case, having contacted the director at his request, Niall hadn’t had to wait long before Callow got back to him.

The outcome of his agent’s discussion with her went without saying.

For a week now, he’d been training with the Sword Master who doubled as his instructor, the stunt coordinator, fight choreographer and the team of specialists involved in bringing the action-fantasy scenes to life.

By now, sweat had begun to trail down Niall’s temple, soaking into the neckline of his shirt as his breaths grew heavier but remained measured.

Yet, his cool-gray irises reflected the unfathomable level of his focus, one that sent an excited chill running down the length of his bald instructor’s spine.

At first, upon suddenly hearing that he’d tasked with training an actor in the basics of sword fighting, Borg had been skeptical.

In fact, this late into pre-production, he had outright refused it, stating that he was perfectly fine working with the stunt specialists and fight choreographers on board.

Though he’d had good experiences teaching some actors, those were very few and far in between.

He much preferred to work with stuntmen since they were more professional than the supposed actors they were filling in for.

Added to that, he didn’t particularly enjoy teaching the younger actors given their frequent impudence and insolence.

But when he was informed that he’d be compensated properly for it, he’d figured a little compromise couldn’t hurt.

Also, he just couldn’t refuse Ivelia’s request given that they’d been long time buddies since college.

However, upon meeting Niall on the first day, witnessing the immense levels of focus and concentration he could instantly tap into, Borg had known he was in for a good time.

It also helped, that for whatsoever reason or the other, the young actor before him had an extremely high endurance, something he couldn’t help but consider questioning him about.

But for now, it was in his best interests that he focused on their spar, lest the youth peg him down a notch with how freakishly fast he was improving.

Again, their wooden swords met, this time in a controlled bind.

Niall twisted his wrist almost immediately, disengaged, and stepped off-line in a single fluid motion, the action temporarily luring Borg into a false sense of dominance.

Being a very bulky, viking-looking man with a full, thick brown beard, and having overused his strength upon their initial clash, he had overextended his swing.

Now, he was practically wide open from the side, an advantage Niall didn’t hesitate to take as he drove in with a powerful thrust!

Borg’s eyes went wide.

Not once had he taught Niall anything asides the basics, which was more than enough for the scenes he would be tasked with acting out.

Yet, this single tactic he had used once in their spar yesterday was something the young actor was already taking advantage of.

Unfortunately for Niall, Borg wasn’t a sword master for show.

No sooner had the wooden sword entered his striking range, he deftly spun his in a reverse grip and effortlessly countered.

The result spoke of itself as Borg not only displaced Niall’s thrust, but equally sent the prop flying out of the young actor’s grip and clattering to the ground a couple meters from them.

Heaving deep breaths, his shirt drenched in sweat after three hours of focused training, Niall’s expression slowly morphed into a wry smile.

With it, he dialed off The Gift of True Aptitude.

Borg on the other hand, gave him a brief, impressed nod as he spoke;

”Today’s session is over. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

”Alright.” Niall gave a respectful nod and then proceeded to head out of the stunt gym.

Noticing the slightly impressed stares and brief nods of approval he was getting from the specialists and stuntmen, some even greeting him as he walked past, the young actor reciprocated in kind.

Watching him disappear through the doors though, Borg on the other hand nodded to himself thoughtfully;

’Should inform Ivelia that the training’s going swimmingly. She’ll be happy to hear that, I’m sure.’

Niall on the other hand, upon grabbing his gym bag from the lockers, stopped briefly by the vending machine, retrieved a bottle of mineral water, chugged it and then headed out of the facility.

Driving and reaching San Fernando a few minutes later, Niall soon pulled into the parking lot of his apartment.

Walking up the stairs that led to the first floor of the one-storey building whilst fiddling with his keys, the door to his one-bed room apartment gently clicked open a few seconds later.

Strolling in, the living room space greeted him with a clean, modern suburban feel, neutral-toned walls, a neat fabric couch, a center table where his shiny new typewriter sat, and a modest TV hung on the wall.

The apartment had a compact yet open-plan design, his narrow kitchenette lining one side with a sleek countertop, while the door to his bedroom--the biggest room in the apartment--stood on the opposite end.

Walking into said bedroom, Niall quickly made his way into the bathroom, took a shower, dried his hair as he stepped out a couple minutes later and then changed into something more comfortable.

Chucking his sweaty clothes into washer dryer, Niall then grabbed his laptop from the small bedside table and made his way out of the room.

Dropping by the kitchenette, he retrieved the leftover pasta he’d made himself yesterday from the small fridge atop the kitchen’s countertop and placed it in the microwave.

Amidst all that, he’d also started up his laptop, waiting for it to boot up.

No sooner had it, he settled onto the couch in the living room, navigating over to the folder he’d kept the word doc of his novel.

In between all the sword training he’d been doing for the past week, Niall had also been steadily making progress writing [The Token of Fate].

Reviewing the Chapters he’d written once more, improving upon some parts where necessary, he soon gave himself a satisfied nod.

Hearing the small beep from the microwave, Niall proceeded to grab his meal.

A few minutes later, having finished the meal and done the dishes, Niall sat before his typewriter, loading a paper into it.

Then he began working on the next outline;

-

ACT II: STIRRINGS OF A STRANGER

Ch. 6 - Roads That Don’t Care

Cut to Tristan being pursued by a group of bandits and rogues. The token stirs and reacts to his desperation. He accidentally opens a hidden path, escaping by the skin of his teeth.

Ch. 7 – A Bound Token

Tristan’s frustrated. He never asked for any of this. He simply wanted to live out his life on his farm, helping out whenever he could. He wishes he could go back home. He can’t. He’s tried throwing the token away, but it keeps finding its way back to him in the oddest of ways. He’s instead forced to journey on in hopes of finding someone who can make sense of what the token is.

Ch. 8 - Rumors of a War

Tristan journeys through the Lands of Aelderon. He can’t help but aid people along the way. It’s his defining trait. Happens to hitch a ride on one of the carriages of the people he helped where he hears news of a gathering war between the giant-dwarven faction and the elven-faerie faction. The little, powerless races are sure to be caught between. A storm is coming.

-

Pausing on that front, Niall, satisfied with his progress, decided to take a break and proceeded to pick up the script for [The Promised Queen] from his bedroom.

Green pen marks littered several areas of each page. Some were simply suggestions. Others were ideas. Some were valid criticisms he’d heard about the movie in the past before his regression.

But his most painted pages were the pages involving Julien Lancaster.

Considering how much potential the character he was tasked with playing had, it was such a shame that the script had done a disservice to what could’ve otherwise been a compelling character.

’It’s even more concerning that Ivelia York, known for her complex character writing, would write such a one-dimensional character now that I think about it...’ the youth mused to himself.

’Something’s amiss here,’ Niall surmised.

’And I fully intend to find out.’ he decided.

Thankfully, the moment Niall was waiting for would be arriving in a couple weeks’ time.

The script-reading session.

There, at the very least, Callow couldn’t bar him from gaining access to the movie’s director.

And just like that, the days went on.

Directing his energy towards training with Borg, learning his fight choreography, proving that he could in fact ride a horse properly to the crew and equally, work on his novel on the side, Niall’s days were fully occupied.

Then, on the 5th of May, 2015, a month had effectively passed by.

The day of the script-reading session had finally arrived.