“Master Mikhail.”
I stood before him with my head bent, in the manner he informed me was respectful. The amusement in his blue-gray eyes fueled my ambition more than anything else had, that day. I’d thought once about turning back, but now that he was laughing at me, I wasn’t going to harbor the thought. I waited for him to ask me what I wanted, but a smile broke out across his angular face instead. “You want to test your skills, do you not?”
I flinched. Of course, he knew! He knew everything, because he’d taught me everything. My own speech was a mirror to his own; my thoughts were a reflection in his ocean of musings. However, if he knew, that was even more reason to go through with my plan. “That’s right. I want to see if I can…”
“…defeat me.” The smile faded for a moment as he put a large hand on my shoulder and thrust me away to arm’s length, looking me over from top to bottom. He paused to hold my eyes with his; I never looked away. His own lessons had taught me that to look away from an enemy was to court death, and it wasn’t my time to die. At last, he was the one who broke the stare, though I knew his guard wasn’t down by any means. “You always were the stubborn one.”
I smirked, pointing to the barrel nearby that was filled with wooden practice swords. “If you insult me, you insult yourself, sensei. After all, it was you who taught me.”
“Indeed I did. But it isn’t yet time for the student to become the master.” The faint dimple in his left cheek shone despite the slender smile he gave me. “That time will come only when you learn not to challenge your enemies. The Way is meant to be discipline for your mind, not a way to bully your enemies. It is not a trial, my Dragon. It is a way of life.”
Scowling in his direction, I once again met his gaze with my own. “So you’re backing down?”
His chuckle was a whisper on the wind. “No. I said that the time would come when you learn not to challenge others. I didn’t say not to accept a challenge when it comes.” I watched as he turned on a graceful heel and made his way over to the barrel, his face unreadable. After a moment, he ran a hand through the dark strands of his hair. “Speaking of a challenge… if you challenge me, we fight on my terms. We will use real blades this time. If you’re old enough to confront me, you’re old enough to handle a warrior’s tools.”
My throat went dry. Real blades? I’d practiced with wooden blades for years, but I could count on one hand the number of times I’d handled a true sword. “Sensei, it isn’t fair. You learned the sword. I haven’t.”
“Are you backing down?”
It seemed my own words were coming back to haunt me. Removing my boots and cloak, I set them aside and pulled a wooden blade from the barrel right out from underneath his nose. He opened his mouth to object, but I held up a finger. “Nowhere in the rules did it say I couldn’t make a few practice runs first.”
That singular, knowing smile came to his face again. “Of course not. Take all the practice runs you want. But I will still beat you.” Leaving me to swing at my imaginary sparring partners, he disappeared into the cabin; the same one he had lived in for years, and the only home I had ever known. I knew his arsenal of arms was kept in the cellar under padded lock and key, but to open that door meant hours of labor and training beyond what I cared for. It was better to let him do the choosing.
I was still as skilled with a practice blade as I had ever been, and I smiled with satisfaction as the wooden stick slammed through the straw head of a practice dummy. Not only was the strike excellent, but the passes had been near perfect as well. Spinning, I thrust the blade into a second dummy, grinning as it pierced just shy of where the heart would have been on a real human. Perhaps I wouldn’t be so handicapped in the challenge. Maybe I knew more than I thought.
“Your form needs improvement, Anri.”
I whirled around, glaring with every ounce of dignity I had at the boy who’d just come out of the cabin and was watching me practice. A smirk played across his scrawny face; his dark hair fell haphazardly into his eyes, which were making fun of me long before his words ever were. “Shut up, Raimen. Nobody asked your opinion.”
He shrugged, turning his back to me. “Suit yourself. I just don’t want you to get beat too badly by the sensei. If you do, I might not want to marry you.”
“Good! Who would want to marry a pig like you anyway?” I spat in reply, pointing my wooden practice blade at him. “I’d kill you before I even thought about it!”
Before I had time to retaliate, he’d pulled a blade from the barrel and countered my clumsy strike so fluidly that my own blade was torn from my hand and stuck upright in the soft dirt. A chuckle escaped him as he thrust his blade back into the barrel and walked off. “Next time, be careful who you challenge, Dragon. You may be Master Mikhail’s favorite, but I still have more training than you. Doubt you’d be able to kill me if I asked him for your hand. For your sake, be glad I haven’t. You know all I have to do is ask, and you’d be mine.”
“When pigs fly,” I muttered as he left. He was beginning to get arrogant, with all the time he spent practicing and reading out of Mikhail’s more advanced books. He’d just see if I married him after all. Nobody would tell me who to love, not even Mikhail himself. Ignoring the strains of flute music from the trees where Raimen had gone off to sulk, I returned to my assault on the dummies. First one, then another fell to my stick, and I grinned when I noticed Mikhail watching through the window. Maybe he was scared of me now; maybe he thought I was a worthy opponent.
“Work on your form, Anri!” he called from inside.
I wanted to strangle him. However, it wouldn’t have done any good to get angry. No matter how angry I got, the Way commanded that I keep control of my wits. A fighter without his wits about him would fall quicker than a calm, alert warrior. Granted I was no man. Perhaps that was the reason all of the lessons about anger management never worked on me. I once again turned to the dummies and made a point of being as graceful and perfect as I could. I wasn’t about to let him or Raimen see me slacking off again. They were both right, however much I didn’t want to admit it: my form needed work, and a lot of it.
Finally, I heard the door to the cabin slam shut, and I wiped the sweat from my brow before turning to greet the glint of twin steel blades that Mikhail carried. He watched with interest as I pointed off in the direction Raimen had gone. “Did you send that out to bother me, or is he just being annoying as usual?”
Mikhail shrugged his slender yet muscular shoulders. “Hard to tell with that boy. He does love you though. I sent him out here to empty the trash. Anything he said to you wasn’t my doing.” When I spat in the dust, he frowned. “That’s hardly ladylike, Dragon. If you expect to get married, you’ll have to learn to be more graceful.”
“And if I don’t expect to?”
He smirked. “You will. It’s just a matter of time before it happens. You’re too young yet to know how much fun it can be.” I opened my mouth before I could even think of a fiery retort, but he covered it with his hand. “Silence, Dragon. There’s a time for breathing fire and a time for thinking fire. This is one of the latter. When you think fire, you hurt only yourself. When you breathe fire, all around you is damaged.”
That managed to get me thinking. He was right. Who was I hurting by failing to control my words? I already knew Raimen had his eye on me; it was no secret. I also knew that should he ask Mikhail for my hand, that I had no say in the marriage plans. That was the destiny of a female inducted into the Way. Even though he was arrogant, and fully aware of his power over me, he truly did care for me. Maybe that was why I didn’t like the idea. I had only just passed my thirteenth summer; it was too soon for marriage, in any case! Yet, I hurt him when I got angry, even if he didn’t show it.
“Here.” Mikhail took my silence for an answer, and tossed me one of the silver-hilted blades he carried. I caught it, making a few test swipes with it as I continued the downward motion. “Let your fire guide you, but the Way is not to burn your enemy. It is to awaken the fire within him, and let him burn out.”
Nodding, I walked to where he stood, stopping a mere ten feet from his spot. He laid his blade on the ground before him, and I did the same, laying mine across his to form a cross. The challenger’s blade always covered the challenged in a formal duel, and this was no exception. The steel-hard look in his eyes told me that he was taking this very seriously, and that meant that I would be wise to do the same. He didn’t waste his time on beginners, and I had the distinct feeling that if he didn’t think there was a reason to continue the battle, he would have called it off. He knew something I didn’t, as usual, and there was a lesson to be learned, somewhere. I would have to find out where.
In unison, we brought our hands together and bowed to each other, then touched our palms together in the traditional respectful acknowledgement of the enemy before backing away and lifting our blades from the ground. Only a breath passed before that instant and the next.
With a great crash of steel and silver, our swords met each other. He spun away quickly, jabbing back toward me, but I stepped out of his way, smiling. “Too soon for mistakes, sensei,” I whispered to him. He nodded in response, and swung hard toward my hand, intending to disarm me. Ready for that trick, I jumped high, bringing my blade down to meet his. The impact thrust his blade downward as well, disabling the strike. He seemed thoughtful for only a moment before launching into the Crisis Moon attack we’d spent countless hours working on. I counted with him as he moved.
One, down, two, up, three, lift, four, stop, five… block!
Right at the moment his sword swung down in a sharp arc, I slammed a strong attack of my own up to greet it. He blinked as vibrations shuddered up both blades, but spun into a retreat by whirling backward. I moved forward, following him; as he’d taught me, the best defense was a good offense. It was easy to see our styles were growing closer, and I found myself fascinated by it. That was why Raimen always believed I was Mikhail’s favorite; he’d never been able to approach the smooth look of Mikhail’s battle technique. He always relied on his speed and strength to win battles, much as he had with me just a short time ago.
Beads of sweat broke out on Mikhail’s forehead as he circled me. No longer was he using simple tricks and games to fool me; he’d decided he would have to work harder to defeat me. Without warning, he crouched, then sprang toward me, blade set to impale. Stunned at the violent attack he’d told me never to use, I barely had time to duck and roll out of the way to avoid meeting my death.
Panting, I glared up at him. “What are you doing? You told me never to do that!”
A soft smile lit his face. “Not all of your enemies will do what you’re expecting them to do. Be alert, Dragon, and you’ll get much further. The Gaia Slice is only the beginning of the tricks a trained swordsman might use on you.”
“But…you said…”
He shook his head. “I’m not your teacher now… or did you forget? I am your enemy. I won’t pull any punches. So strike me down… if you can.” He stretched out his free hand in my direction and made a quick beckoning motion with his fingers. Feeling my anger rising, I let it fill my body before launching into a series of spinning attacks, each of which he blocked. While I tried to recover, his attacks seemed graceful and planned, not clumsy like mine. He wasn’t angry; he was fighting with a calm mind.
Awaken the fire within him… let him burn out…
His words echoed in my mind, and I stepped back, thinking. At the same moment, he attacked, snaking his sword around mine and thrusting hard. I had only a moment to gasp as the point of his sword pierced my palm and my blade fell from my hand to clatter on the dirt below. My eyes widened as blood streamed from my palm, and I looked up at him, angry. “You told me to think before I attacked, and this is what happens?”
He shook his head, hooking his blade onto his belt before walking over to me. “Think, yes. Step back and think, and allow your enemy an opening? No. You must think while you act, Dragon. Even when the enemy appears to be weak, think as you act. A desperate man will do anything to win, anything at all to save his life. Not all men follow the Way, and they will cheat. You have to be ready for the cheaters as well as the honorable. Your enemy isn’t going to allow you a recess to come up with your next move, my girl. You did well up until that point.”
By now, my hand was stinging, and tears welled in my eyes. “You weren’t supposed to hurt me though!”
He sighed, easing an arm around my shoulders. “Sometimes, pain is the best way to learn a lesson. I’m sorry, but you had to be shown. If I’d told you to pay attention, would it have had the same effect?” He smiled down at me. “I don’t think it would have. Knowing your temper, my Dragon, you would have scoffed at me and continued to make the same mistake. This way, I know you learned. You know you learned.” A chuckle escaped him, and he used a gentle thumb to wipe away a single tear that had escaped from my eye. “Come now, Anri. Are these tears because of your pain, or because you lost your challenge?”
“Shut up, just shut up!” I curled my bloody palm into a fist without thinking, ready to give him a broken nose if nothing else, but the pain inflicted by the steel blade was too much. Gasping, I unclenched my fist to see that I’d only widened the gash.
“Do you see now what anger does to you?” His voice was gentler when he spoke. “It cost you your train of thought, then the battle, and now it’s making things worse. You won’t win a battle until you can put aside that anger, Dragon. It will be difficult for you… but you must do it. Even a true dragon knows when it’s appropriate to get angry.”
As he led me up the stairs to the cabin to be cleaned up, I noticed Raimen emerging from the trees. He crouched by the spot where my blade had fallen, and I watched him frown as blood from the hilt where my hand had been coated his curious fingers. He glanced up at me, and I turned away before he could comment. He was probably happy; his prediction had been perfect. I’d been beaten, and now he was probably ashamed to admit he loved me.
To tell the truth, he wasn’t the only one ashamed of me. I would have to work harder, or risk losing all faith I had in myself. The next time, I would be better. I had to be.