She takes it gingerly.
“You won’t hurt yourself if you only touch it from here,” I say, measuring her breathing to track if she starts to panic again. “My mother had attacks, as you have. They were worse after we escaped from Ruhsavida. Much later, I learned that they came when she felt like she had no power and control. Learn to fight, even a little, and you give yourself more power and more control.”
Melisa bites her lip. Her displeasure with me has hung like a cloud over us all day. Seeing it melt away into the clear, brilliant skies of her smile makes me feel like Grutabela herself has blessed me with her light.
My stone doesn’t sing, and there is no searing pain from my mating marks, but I am happy at this moment.
Happy to help Melisa in any way I can.
It’s an emotion that’s evaded me for far too long.
“Where do we start?” Melisa asks, stepping forward.
My smile grows at her courage.
Brave woman.
“First, stand. You can’t fight someone if you aren’t solid on the ground. Come here.”
Her eyes flash at the command, but she comes.
I stand straight, feet close together, and then gesture at her. “Try to push me over.”
Her brows furrow. “You can’t be serious. You are at least two heads taller than me!”
I smile. “Trust me,Ruh’flor.”
She glares at the name, and a part of me can’t believe it slipped past my lips: cave flower. Why give such a name to a woman who has barely spent any time in the caves?
Before I can analyze it any further, she shoves me. I laugh in surprise at the power of her blow and bend backward.
I had anticipated her to make me sway a little, but I tumble onto my ass mere inches from the fire. My tail stops my fall, and my short hair falls in my eyes. I brush it away.
She looks down at me, half-horrified, half-amused. “Ra’Sa—I’m sorry?—”
I smile, getting to my feet and brushing the snow off my backside.
“No, it is a good lesson. The more rigid you are, the easier it will be to knock you down.” I adjust my stance, with my feet shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, and weight balanced.
“Now, try to push me again.”
She raises an eyebrow but does so. While my torso twists and bends, I remain standing.
Her eyes study my movements. “You are more flexible.”
I nod. “Exactly. The blows won’t knock you over, and you can move forward and backward.” I demonstrate. “Now, you try.”
She chews on her lip, then begins to shift her body. Her eyes meet mine again when she finishes copying how I was moments before. “Like this?”
I like the determination in her voice.
“Yes.”
I fashion my own short blade out of stones.
“Next, footwork. Fighting is not just about being able to stand in one place; it’s about being able to move. You shouldlearn to advance.” I shuffle forward. “Retreat.” I mirror the movement backward. “Sidestep.” I calmly move to either side.
“And lastly, circle an opponent.” I start to move around her, holding out my blade. “If you only attack straight on, you will get hurt more. Movement leads to success in a battle.”