Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Two
I’m not sure how much time has passed before Mirin has begun to stop pushing himself back to his feet, too exhausted to continue on. I can imagine how battered and bruised he is beneath his clothes from receiving so many blows with the blunt training sword, which makes me wince in sympathy for him. Toshiro, on the other hand, doesn’t even break a sweat as he stares down at Mirin with disdain. “Are you done already?” He asks, his voice as sharp as a razor.

I push myself to my feet, feeling annoyed by his tone. All morning now he has been talking down to Mirin as though he’s still nothing but a slave, and it’s making my blood boil. “That’s quite enough,” I bellow, catching both of their attention. “Mirin, come sit with Arcane,” I instruct, beckoning him over with a finger.

Mirin wipes the sweat from his brow as he walks over, much slower than he was this morning. I can tell that he’s trying to cover up the pain that each stride brings him, forcing a tight smile as he comes to stand beside me. “I’m sorry,” He says, voice quiet. He doesn’t sound quite defeated, though he’s certainly disappointed in himself. “I thought it would be easier.”

I smile down at him and reach to take the training sword from his hand, gentle enough not to hurt his sore limbs. I glimpse the rawness of his palms as I peel the hilt away from him, no doubt stinging terribly each time he clears the sweat from his face. “No, you’ve done wonders for your first day. You deserve a break now, so rest up. I’ll call for lunch to be prepared shortly so make sure you drink a lot of water until then,” I say, pointing to the tray that sits on a trolley beside the wall. I’d gotten parched observing their training, so I conjured up the thought of some ice-cold water with sprigs of mint. No matter how many glasses I’ve poured, the level inside of the pitcher remains the same.

Mirin heads to the cart but hesitates to glance at me over his shoulder. “What are you going to be doing?” He asks cautiously, glancing down at the sword in my grasp.

I give him a coy smile, turning to stalk towards the Fox. “Nothing for you to worry about. Take your rest,” I reassure him, fixing Toshiro with my stare. He continues to hold his faux weapon and has been stalking back and forth along the length of the golden markers on the floor, looking very similar to a caged animal. Speaking of which, Arcane makes to follow me onto the field but I shoot her a look and bark for her to stay. She gives me a confused look before sitting back down on the sidelines, moaning her protests.

Toshiro's dark eyes flicker to the weapon in my grip, his expression widening into a devious grin. “Don’t tell me, you’d like to exact revenge for your little student?”

Recalling the fighting stance that Toshiro had shown Mirin, I spread my legs a shoulder-width apart, holding the hilt with two hands. The polished wood is still slick with Mirin’s sweat, or maybe his blood, but I do my best to balance it comfortably in my grasp. Not too tightly, or else my movements will be stiff, so I learned. “Precisely,” I say, leveling him with my glare. “He is just a boy. You’re supposed to be training him, not taking your anger out on him.”

Toshiro tilts his head, swinging his wooden blade adeptly as he holds my gaze, stalking to the point directly across from me. “The two go hand-in-hand. Let’s see how resilient you really are, Princess,” He doesn’t give me any other warning before lunging, almost too quick to see. I pivot my body and raise the sword in front of me, flinching as the wood cracks against each other.

I force my eyes to remains open as I turn to face him, where he now paces behind me, stalking me like the predator he is. His eyes are sharp, following my every movement as he readies his stand again. “Well done. Let’s continue with your lesson, shall we? Focus on my energy. See how it flows through the sword.” I shift my gaze to his weapon, but he moves again too quickly for me to see, suddenly standing right in front of me. He shoves his sword against mine, pushing me backward with surprising force, but I manage to keep my balance.

Arcane yowls from the sideline where she paces back and forth nervously, becoming uneasy at the play fighting. Toshiro spares her a glance that quells her nerves, once again surprised me with his ability to control the massive cat so easily. I take the moment of opportunity to charge at him, raising my sword to arch it down over his head. He easily blocks the blow with one hand and throws me backward with a sudden surge of power, though I know that his arm hardly moves.

I lose my footing this time and land on the hard stone, feeling the pain blossom against the hip that hit the ground. I groan loudly as I push myself to my feet, doubting that Toshiro will give me the chance to ready myself again before striking. “What was that?” I spit, steadying myself.

Toshiro was standing across the arena where he has thrown me, but he now stands in front of me, feigning a yawn of boredom. “I told you to focus. A sword is merely an extension of your arm, and therefore, your power.” He arches his weapon through the air again, taking me by surprise considering how relaxed he was a second ago. I block it just in time, surprising myself with the quick reflex. I push against his sword, trying to push him back but to no avail. He snickers at the attempt though, seeing how my arms shake from the effort.

I grit my teeth as he surges forward, easily shoving me as my boots glide against the marble as if it's made of ice. I manage to stay upright as he pushes me around the area, knowing that if I lower the block that his weapon will come crashing against my chest. His face is inches away from mine, separated only by our weapons as I struggle to regain my footing. He seems amused, his eyes glittering in the sunlight as we skate around the floor. I get the sense that he’s about to do something again to push me over, so I react by jutting my foot out to trip him.

Toshiro stumbles over my foot in surprise, though he doesn’t fall the way that I do. He shoves me to the ground as he corrects his balance, making me hit the ground much harder than before. My body throbs painfully as I lift myself to my hands and knees, mentally assessing the damage. My pride is injured more than my body, so I climb to my feet just in time to block another blow from Toshiro’s sword. I wheeze, trying to catch my breath as I deflect his attack, bracing myself for the next.

“Are you tired already?” Toshiro teases, lunging at me again. I know that he’s using the least amount of his strength possible, yet my arms can hardly fend him off with each attack I deflect. It’s getting harder and harder to keep up, and seeing my struggle seems to make his boredom return. “What did I tell you?” He barks, giving me an annoyed glare. “Focus!”

The wood clatters together sharply as they glance off of each other, successfully blocking yet another blow. My arms feel like they’re on fire, and I know I’m nearly at my limit already. To my credit, I’ve never practiced on a living being before now, so I’d say that I’m managing myself rather well. “That’s hard to do what you keep attacking me!” I snarl, shoving him away from me with my remaining bit of strength.

“Do you think these Faerie bastards are going to give you a moment?”

The weight is lifted for a mere second before his wooden blade descends upon me again, this time landing a strike against my shoulder. I hiss at the sting that erupts against my skin, but I have no time to check the severity of the injury before he’s on me again. I fall backward onto my butt from the force of his blow, but he doesn’t let up. Standing above me now, he has more leverage to bore his weight down onto my weapon, forcing me flat on my back. If I drop my weapon any farther, the rounded tip of his sword is going to strike my cheek. Judging from his cruelty thus far, I don’t think that marking my face is a hindrance to him. Ascian would skin him alive if he found out that he marked me at all, but judging from the burning of his gaze, it’s safe to assume that Toshiro doesn’t care about the repercussions.

My arms shake violently from the effort of holding back his weight, and I suck in a breath through my nose, trying desperately to focus on the aura that surrounds him. My heart skitters unevenly in my chest as panic strikes me, understanding now that he has no intention of sparing me. If this were a real fight, I would have been dead from the second stroke.