Today it was just the three of us. We started with a warm-up, jumping and running across the mat in unison. Gwinifer and Finnegan moved effortlessly, their steps light and precise, like dancers whose movements were hardwired into muscle memory. I, however, was gasping for breath far too soon.
After a few minutes, Gwinifer demonstrated the defensive moves, stepping up to spar with Finnegan in what I could only describe as a real fight. I watched, trying to learn.
She was fast, though shorter and more petite than both of us. Her body was lean and defined, every one of her movements precise and fluid.
Finnegan’s manoeuvres were efficient, his larger frame giving him the upper hand in strength. Every now and then, he’d land a hit, and she would sway back a fraction, recalibrating her stance with a smirk that made me wonder if she liked the challenge.
“So, the key is to be faster than him. Don’t let him catch you,” I said aloud.
Her leg shot up, meeting Finn’s ribs with a solid thud that sent him stumbling backward. She dropped swiftly to a crouch, sweeping her leg out and knocking his feet out from under him. He hit the mat with a grunt.
“That’s correct,” she said, her breath a bit ragged. “Your turn.”
She tilted her head toward Finnegan, who was already pushing himself up, looking more amused than fazed.
“Get ready, Red. Set your stance,” she instructed, and I squared my feet shoulder-width apart, fists raised in front of me as I eyed the emissary.
“You’ll make the first move. Finn will block and then counter,” she instructed.
He stepped forward, and we began circling each other, matching each other’s side steps. I waited for a beat, until he was mid-step, then threw a quick right jab aimed at his chin. He blocked it effortlessly, his arms coming up in a practiced motion. I pulled my fists back, and he followed up with a strike, controlled and softer than he’d shown with Gwinifer, though just as precise.
“Atkus.” Gwinifer’s voice cut through the room. “What wasthat? This isn’t some slow-motion drill.”
“I thought you said she didn’t have experience.”
“I don’t,” I replied.
“Then you need to learn the movements before I go full speed,” he argued with a mix of challenge and delight.
Gwinifer clicked her tongue, her hands on her hips. “You and Reagan never change. Fine. Carry on.”
We moved into a rhythm, Finn ramping up his speed slightly with each exchange. I focused on the instructions, working to match his pace.
After a few minutes, we took a quick break, then jumped back in, me replicating the movements they’d shown with as much precision as I could.
I was panting, my breath ragged and heavy. I thought I was in decent shape since I walked to work and took dance classes. But that didn’t compare to this. Gwinifer and Finnegan had bodies made of all lean muscle and control, while mine felt softer, a bit slower. Dancing had given me some agility that came with stamina and a slender frame, but this was something else. It was precise and demanding. Sweat was already beading on my forehead, rolling down in stinging tracks.
“How often do you fight like this?” I asked, catching my breath as I blocked a punch Gwinifer aimed at my side.
“You mean in real fights?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she motioned for me to strike. “Often enough. I would say, at least twice a week.”
“Do you fight just people or creatures, too?” I threw a punch at her shoulder, but she sidestepped it.
“Both,” she answered with a quick nod. “But most creatures we can usually see coming and manage to wield a charm in time. Assholes can get you off guard more easily.”
“Are assholes common at the bor—”
Her fist clipped the side of my face, hard enough to make me step back, blinking. I raised a hand to my cheek, feeling the dull throb where she’d struck.
“If you’re serious about learning, better get used to that,” she said, dropping her arms to her sides. “And to answer your question, they’re everywhere. All sorts of idiots.”
My frustration flared as the ache in my cheek sharpened. “If they’re idiots, it should be easier to just use your fancy abilities.All this hand-to-hand fighting feels like a lot of work.”
She gave a dismissive laugh. “Oh, it’d be easier. But unfortunately, it’s still forbidden to use our powers to torture anyone who attacks or endangers Mountheim. But this I can use.” She gestured to her fists.
“I didn’t say torture,” I pointed out.
“Right,” she replied, eyes glinting. “Of course, you’d just kindly ask them to stop, wouldn’t you?”
