Training

The water crashed around Emelia, soaking her to the bone in seconds. She felt like a rag doll as she careened through the air. Breathless and drenched, she felt her body thudding against rocks and submerged debris. She crashed with a deafening thud onto the hard ground below, feeling a sharp pain radiating from her back and limbs. The chill of the water clung to her skin, and she gasped for breath. Her bruises bloomed in vivid colors across her arms and shoulders, and her skin burned like she had been scraped with thousands of tiny needles.

She looked up, rain running down her face, to see Leon standing over her. Droplets of water cascaded from his clothes and pooled on the ground around him. His expression was stern and unforgiving as his eyes focused intently on her. With one sharp command, his voice cutting through the storm, he shouted, “Again!” She knew what that meant—rise, and try again. She heaved herself off the ground, ignoring the protesting ache of her muscles and readying herself for another round of training.

Emelia had trained with the regiment for three months, mastering every lesson they taught her with an unmatched fervor. Yet, her skills in hand-to-hand combat remained wanting. Every day she trained, she would be brought low by her comrades, who seemed to relish in her defeats, snickering and hollering as if this was their entertainment.

Emelia watched from the sidelines as Leon and the other soldiers exchanged blows in the sparring ring. Leon’s fighting moves were precise and effortless, his force able to send the heaviest of men flying. She had longed to do the same, to prove that she could be just as good with a sword as any of them. Taking a deep breath, she eventually asked Leon if he would train her. Of course, he accepted as he looked down at her and smiled, nodding in agreement. Who better to teach her than the best soldier in the regiment?

Emelia staggered to her feet, her wet clothes clinging to her skin, adding extra weight. Water pooled near her feet as she pushed her sopping hair from her face. She blinked away the raindrops that clung to her eyelashes and focused on Leon. He moved across the training ground in steady, graceful strides. His sword sliced through the air with a sharp whistle as he demonstrated various attack moves and counter sweeps. “You can do this,” he called out. “Just pay attention and follow each movement.”

“I know. I’m trying,” Emelia said as she gauged the distance between them. His sword glinted in the light as he swung it towards her. She nimbly sidestepped and executed a perfect spin, avoiding the blade. His arms lowered for a split second, and she lunged forward, taking advantage of the opening.

Leon spun around, countering her attack. He held his blade steady against her throat, and she could feel the cold metal pressing against her skin. His lips curled into a smirk. “Nice try,” he said. “Remember that most men will be bigger and stronger than you. Speed is your greatest weapon—use it to your advantage.” He stepped away, “Come at me again!”

Emelia’s eyes narrowed as she processed Leon’s words. She squeezed her hand around the hilt of the sword, feeling the heavy weight of it in her hand. She dropped it, and the sound of it clanging against the floor as it hit a puddle echoed through the air. She reached behind her back and unsheathed the dagger tucked away in her belt. Before Leon could react, she held it tight in her right hand, ready for a fight. They circled each other slowly, both trying to anticipate the next move. Suddenly, Leon lunged forward, thrusting his sword in an arc toward Emelia’s chest.

Emelia sidestepped each of Leon’s strikes, using her smaller size and agility to her advantage. Her footwork was precise and graceful as she moved in and out of range, barely avoiding his blade. She stared him down, watching for a sign of fatigue or a lapse in his defense. When he stepped back, beckoning her to move forward, Emelia knew he was trying to goad her into a mistake. She kept her distance, and her eyes narrowed, determined to wait for the right moment to strike.

Leon smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He threw his fist forward in a feint at her face in one fluid movement, his arm cutting through the air like an arrow. “Looks like the training is finally paying off,” he said.

Emelia blocked the punch and countered with an efficient jab to Leon’s jaw, which sent him stumbling back. She quickly followed up with a powerful kick to his stomach that dropped him to his hands and knees. With impressive agility, Emelia spun around and maneuvered her leg between his arms, kicking his hands out from underneath him. He collapsed onto the ground, landing with a dull thud. Emelia pounced on him, forcing him onto his back and using her thighs to pin his hips to the ground. She kept her dagger pressed against the side of his neck and spoke in a low, “Checkmate.”

Leon raised himself on his elbows, still out of breath. Sweat gleamed on his forehead, and he grinned. “Not bad,” he said with a laugh.

Emelia straddled Leon, their faces close together as the rain descended in a curtain of water around them. She closed her eyes, feeling the thunder of her heart mixed with the adrenaline of the fight. She heard the low rumble of thunder from the sky and felt an infusion of pleasure as the electricity that seemed to spark between them intensified. The rain continued to pour down around them. Still, she was oblivious to the cold, transfixed by the intensity in the air that was almost magical.

His powerful legs shifted underneath them as he sat up, and she felt the strength of his hands gripping her hips. Warmth was emanating from his body, and time seemed to stand still as his piercing gaze locked onto hers, a look that she felt in her very core. Her mouth became parched, and she licked her lips hungrily as he leaned in close enough for their breaths to mingle among the pattering of the heavy rain.

Emelia felt her heart flutter, a sensation that was becoming familiar whenever she was near Leon. The dagger slipped from her fingers, clattering to the ground. She pressed her lips to his, letting her hands stray so they dipped between his shoulder blades and through his tresses, finding repose when they finally locked at the back of his head. Leon seemed surprised at first but then quickly recovered and brought his muscular arms up to embrace her petite frame before pulling her closer so that their bodies were flush against one another. Emelia let out a small moan, feeling sparks flying off inside of her. Her breath quickened as she hungrily tugged playfully at his dark locks, and within moments he was kissing her back with such fire. His long fingers warmed the small of her back, and a sudden burst of electricity sent a chill down her spine. His lips moved fervently over hers, their kiss growing hungrier and more passionate with every moment. His movements felt like an uncontrollable force, as if the kiss had taken on a life of its own.

She pulled away and looked into his eyes, trying to find the right words to say. But as she opened her mouth, only shallow breaths came out as her chest heaved. She inhaled deeply and let out small, desperate pants of air, “I...”

Leon struggled to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His face was a light pink as he tried to hide his panting. He smiled a gentle smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and said, “We probably should head back inside before we catch a cold.”

Emelia’s gaze lingered on Leon’s lips for a moment before she looked into his deep brown eyes. Neither spoke, the moment stretching on as if it would never end. Eventually, the spell was broken, and she nodded, grabbing her dagger from the puddle of water. Leon slowly lifted himself from the ground and grabbed the swords, the blades dripping with rainwater. “How did you know to ditch the sword?” he asked, giving her a curious look.

She paused and took a deep breath before responding. “Speed is key,” she said, her eyes focused on the dagger in her hand. She lifted it slightly and tested its weight. It was barely there - a far cry from the heavy sword she had used moments before. She could sense her reflexes sharpening as she felt the swiftness of the small weapon. “I can connect my strikes faster and more fluidly. It’s so much lighter.”

Leon raised an impressed eyebrow and nodded, admiration in his gaze. “Ah,” he said. “That’s good insight. A soldier needs to know how to adapt.” He gave her a proud smile, “Great job, Emelia.”

They arrived at the castle doors, where they stood in the shelter of the overhang. Leon glanced up at the sky, which was still turbulent from the earlier rain. Bits of blue sky were starting to peek through from between the clouds, and he smiled, saying, “Looks like it’s clearing up.”

Emelia tipped her face to the sky, squinting as a gap in the clouds allowed the bright sun to reach her. She drew in a deep breath of the fresh air, the warmth of the sunlight on her cheeks and the scent of the nearby wildflowers comforting her. Two weeks until she joined the march towards the battle, and for a moment, her nerves were still. Confidence coursed through her veins as she was ready for what was to come.