I endured a full-on training session with a massive white male from Silch, who also happened to be the Captain of the Vanguard of Ice. The way he fixated on each of my movements, constantly correcting my back, my legs, my arms, my timing, even—it screamedCaptain.
I pushed my wobbly legs towards the water valve and gulped down two glasses, then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I was about to sit on the tiled floor when Aegir asked, arms crossed, “Uh, what do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m finished with Eldric’s training,” I breathed.
“Uh-huh, but you’re not finished with mine.”
Oh.My face turned weary and I took small, reluctant steps towards him. “Just to let you know, I might faint soon.”
“Only for today, all right. Let’s pretend that you’ll be attacked somewhere colder than here.”
I didn’t manage to completely suppress my moan. It escaped my lips at the merciful touch of cool on my skin. I was about to thank him, but my brain processed what he’d just said. My heavy-lidded eyes snapped wide and I blurted, “Attacked?”
“Yes. I’ll be ‘attacking’ you, and you’ll be learning all about countering. It’s called self-defence.”
“Oh.” I realised then what he was doing. Why he was doing it.
“Again,” Aegir commanded for the hundredth time, grabbing hold of my wrist. With the side of my free palm, I struck him in the soft crease of his elbow, aiming precisely at what Aegir referred to as the ulnar nerve. Aegir’s grip loosened and he pulled his arm away.
“The little human finally made the Lord of the Ice Vanguard flinch.”
“Only because you let me.”
“Not only. You hit well.” My lips quirked. Then he asked, “Are you ready?”
My head tilted. “Ready for what?”
Aegir reached both arms behind his shoulders and pulled forward his twin axes. “To feel sorry for your poor target.” I grinned at the invitation.
Our poor target was a makeshift wooden panel.
“Do you still remember how it’s done?”
I gave Aegir a side glance and reached for the axe. I positioned myself at the target’s centre. I looked at it with an intense gaze, readying the axe at the back of my head, feet spread and planted. A grunt left my throat in tandem with the hurled axe, which lodged at eye level with a gratifying thump.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Aegir remarked, taking a few steps closer and handing me the other axe.
I inhaled a deep breath and focused all of my energy—all of my anger, all of my frustration—into that one throw and into every one that came after it. I let out some of it a little at a time until a calm settled over me by the end.
“You know, you gleam when you throw stuff. It scares me a little,” Aegir commented, glancing at me with glinting eyes. My lips curled into a smile. Then I winced, subtly, looking at my tingling palms. The skin had turned red and tender. My wince mustn’t have been as subtle, as Aegir looked my way and said, “I can heal them for you.”
“No,” I quickly responded. I wasn’t sure why, but I wished for the pain to remain. A reminder of what I did that day with my body. Normally, it was my back that was sore, my fingers, after long hours of scrubbing. And, of course, the thumbprint bruises that often marred my arms. Their aches reflected my despair and hopelessness. They reminded me that I had no control—over anything. Not even over my own memories. At least this sort of pain belonged to me—it was mine and I wanted to keep it. And besides, it wasn’t my palms that needed healing. I had to find some way to bargain. I would find it…for her, just as I had promised. And then I would find it for me.
“As you wish. I warn you, though, tomorrow’s not going to be pleasant.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes. And the day after that, and the one after it.”
“You do realise that I need functioning arms and legs to scrub and hang clothes.”
“Good thing you won’t be doing any of that, then.”
My brow scrunched. “What do you mean? Am I on kitchen duty?”
“Kitchen duty? No. Come on, let’s get back to the castle. I have things to get to,” Aegir urged, already walking away.
I got stuck there, awkwardly scratching the back of my neck.
