Snippet #2541924

Darius appeared, absent a shirt, and I watched him flick the staff back to its home on the wall with his toe. Impressive. Though the admiration was not long lasting though as he arrogantly demanded that in the future I paid him more respect and bowed when entering the dojo.

I had never bowed to anyone in my life. I was about to tell him this when I remembered: here I was not the Silver Light. I was only Silver. Instead I bit my lip and nodded. He then went on to detail that he wanted me to do some routine exercises. Push-ups, pull-ups and five minutes of plank. When he said it should take about an hour I realized he expected me to be incredibly weak.

It was my first chance to prove that I wasn’t worthless at least.

I nodded and set to work. Within 15 minutes I was done. I had taken strenuous acrobatic dance classes all of my life, so I was pretty athletic at lifting my own body weight anyways.

He regarded me coolly, but couldn’t keep the intrigue from his gaze. I grinned back at him.

“Alright, we’ll be starting with getting you used to moving around like a fighter and then into the basics. Depending on how long it takes you to pick that up we’ll go from there.” He informed me and then slid into the stance from last night.

I mirrored him and tried to contain my giddy excitement.

By the end of the class there wasn’t much excitement to be had. I laid on my back on the dojo floor panting and layered in a sheen of sweat. We had been through drill after drill of how to punch and kick in combos and he was relentless about making sure I didn’t stop until I got it right.

“Get up Silver. We’re done for the day, but you can’t just die on the floor when you’re tired,” he said crisply.

If I dared, I would have stuck my tongue out at him. Instead I rolled over and picked myself up with a groan. I was going to ache from head to toe when I woke up.

“Since you are a girl I have had to modify my approach a little. Boys are taught to fight from the time they are children, so they can pretty well begin sparring right from the start of classes,” Darius mused. “But I want to ensure that you learn how to strike without injuring yourself before you actually have to try to strike someone who will hit you back.”

I nodded and then nodded again when he told me that would be the focus of this week’s lessons. That sounded good. Tiring and painful, but good. I exhaled and bowed to him.
“Thank you again for being willing to train me. I understand that it is unorthodox,” I said as I rose.

“Why are you doing this anyways?” he asked pointedly.

I frowned and shook my head. “I can’t say,” I told him. “I just need to.”

That was easier than trying to lie. Of course he fixed me with a disapproving look which I met with a smile.