Chương 150: 65. I Don't Know How to Fight

While Daani prepares for our spar, I lean down to let Nipper down off of my shoulders.

"Bwah!" Daani exclaims with a start.

"Where did that thing come from?!"

"Nipper? He's usually hiding under our cloak."

"You just walk around with that thing around your neck?" he asks incredulously.

"Uh... yes? He's actually pretty docile most of the time." In fact, he's been extra docile lately, barely moving at all outside of training unless we prompt him to. I was a little worried, but Fargo confirmed with skills that he's perfectly healthy. Still, I don't want to risk keeping him on our shoulders during a spar. He wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a friendly bout and an actual fight. Nipper happily curls up to nap in the grass while Daani and I square off.

"What's your preferred weapon?" he asks.

"Sword? Spear? You've got a dagger there, right?"

"Short spear? I can just use a staff for practice, though." He tosses me a spear, which I regard with a frown.

"This is uh... a real spear."

"It's not sharpened," Daani assures me.

"Neither is my sword." As a demonstration, he strikes his own palm a few times with the blade.

"See?"

"It can still stab or cut," I point out.

"I mean, yeah," he says as though that should be obvious.

"It wouldn't be good practice without real weapons." I'm getting less comfortable with this by the second, but I'm willing to play along.

"Rules?" I ask.

"No skills for now," he says.

"And don't follow through if you land a hit."

"Obviously." He rubs at his side pouting.

"Not as obvious as you might think. Anyway, ready?" Daani raises his sword and takes a stance, so I level the spear and steel my nerves.

"Ready." He springs forward with surprising speed—Fa'aun are always so light on their hooves. I step back and try to knock his blade—a long, double-edged sword—to the side. In response, he just flicks his wrist to twist the blade inside my guard without even breaking his lunge. To keep myself from being impaled, I have to twirl the spear back up to catch the blade and push it out of the way. Daani furrows his brow, but doesn't give me time to regain my balance before resetting his footing and slashing sideways.

I catch the cut on the haft of my spear, and the impact nearly throws me off my feet. I just barely manage to dig my heels in and hold my ground, but then his blade sweeps along the shaft of the spear faster than I can react and catches my fingers, pinching them painfully enough that I'm forced to let go and stagger backwards. He doesn't follow up, lowering his blade and deepening his frown while I take advantage of the respite to shake out my hand. That hurt!

"You're sure you've fought before?" he asks.

"Yes," I respond.

"Several times, to the death. Usually against monsters."

"Huh..." Without another word he raises his blade and lunges forward again, blade raised high. It doesn't quite catch me off-guard, but I still have to hurry to raise my spear to block his strike. Except the strike doesn't land. He shoulder-checks me instead, causing me to stagger back several steps. By the time I regain my balance, his sword is already pressed gently but firmly against the side of my neck. He cocks his head.

"You're sure?" I huff, starting to get annoyed as I shove the blade off of my shoulder.

"Yes. I'm sure." Daani lowers his blade and scratches the base of his horns.

"How are you alive? Was it all just magic?"

"No," I sigh, starting to realize the problem.

"And you've fought people, too?"

"Yes, but I don't know how to fight." He blinks and raises an eyebrow.

"What? But you just said—""I only know how to kill."

"Wow, and you call me an edgelord," Maggie interjects." Every fight has been to the death," I clarify.

"And I had no training before that."

"Ooooh," Daani says, understanding.

"But then why are you blocking so much? If I ran at little Graha like that he would have taken the opening and stabbed me in the gut."

"If I thought you were trying to kill me I'd have stabbed you in the throat." His hand goes to his neck and he glances at the tip of my spear, as if just realizing that even unsharpened it could easily impale him through the neck.

"R-right." Basically, the problem is that I only know how to fight at one hundred percent, or not at all. Against the demon I was able to defend myself against its thrashing limbs, but I was high on a mixture of adrenaline and stimulants, and the demon—for all its tricks—didn't actually feint. I guess there's not much point in false attacks when you've got a dozen weapons and can attack from any direction.

"Draga taught me some basics, but he was very gentle in practice," I explain.

"Sorry—you'll need to dumb it down for me." I can see the disappointment in his eyes—he was looking forward to challenging an equal, but I'm a novice in his field. I'm certain I could kill him, skills or not, if it came down to it—which is a horrible thing to think about a child that's trying to be helpful. But in a fair fight of pure martial arts, I'm a rank amateur with muscle memory that's worse than useless. I know for a fact that my spear movements are way too flashy.

Draga was constantly reminding me to stop spinning the weapon so much. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Despite us letting him down, Daani happily spends the rest of the afternoon walking us through proper movements and responses according to whatever doctrine his own martial art prescribes.

"You don't want to block with the haft of your spear, if you can avoid it. Either parry and dodge, or wear a proper shield."

"Spears—even short ones—are about reach. Always try to control the space and give yourself room to retreat."

"You're light, but you're really hard to push. I bet you could catch a lot of people off-guard with that." And so on. It's actually pretty productive. Fa'aun hooves and the shape of their legs offer them incredible maneuverability, but it comes at the cost of stability. You wouldn't think they have poor balance after seeing them effortlessly walk up an eighty degree incline, but the secret is that they're not much more stable on flat ground.

Despite him being a weight class or two higher than me, I can almost effortlessly push Daani around. Fa'aun just aren't good at keeping their balance without moving their feet. Daani is actually a pretty good teacher, once he realizes that his martial expertise completely eclipses mine, though he still has that distinct air of childishness.

"What's a real fight like anyway?" he asks as we slowly go through some basic forms.

"My sisters are always telling me I'm too young, but I've almost finished my core class. I'm pretty much an adult already." It's such a classically kid thing to say. I can imagine myself saying the same thing in high school. Meanwhile half the people we've met in college are less grown up than even Daani.

"It's unpleasant," I tell him.

"Nothing but fear, pain, and blood. I've nearly died in every battle I participated in."

"Well, that's just because you lack training, right?"

"Maybe," I concede.

"But training isn't enough."

"Enough for what?" I step back from the practice and sigh. I don't have the words in Fa'aun to express my thoughts. I'm trying my best, but he's just not filling in the gaps.

"[Allie, can you try talking to him?]" I ask.

"Me? I guess, but I'm not sure what you want me to say."

"[Just tell him honestly what fighting is like, from your perspective.]" I stroke my chin and wonder what she means. I'm not really the one who does the fighting. I mean, I still kind of remember it, but when we're throwing down I'm usually way in the back.

"Miss Vi?" Daani prods.

"Hi, Daani! I'm Allie, Vi asked me to answer your question for her," I introduce myself.

"She's not as good with words in your language." He blinks.

"O-oh! Is that what it means that you have multiple names?"

"Yep! There's a few of us up here," I explain, tapping my head.

"Neat!" he says, unfazed by us even without the usual explanation. Ah, kids. It's nice to have someone just take it at face value for once.

"So, I'm not usually the one who does the fighting, but I think what Vi is trying to say is that training only prepares you for the mechanical aspects of it," I explain.

"Blocking, dodging, making the right moves, you know? You're good at that! And thank you for teaching Vi."

"Aw, thanks!" he says, scratching his horns and chuckling bashfully.

"I'm still learning, myself."

"Of course! You should never stop learning," I tell him.

"But actual fights are—scary isn't the right word. Hmm, how would I put it in Fa'aun? Deathly terrifying?" The word I use is an awkward compound trying to mix death, fear, and anxiety together.

"Knowing that you could die at any moment, having it nearly happen, seeing it happen—both to friends and enemies—nothing prepares you for that. None of the injuries we've suffered in battle can compare to the pain of seeing someone we'd come to like and trust get stabbed through the heart by an attack they never saw coming." He swallows nervously.

"That—that's happened?"

"It's happened to us," I reply sardonically.

"I'm not about to show you the scar on my chest to prove it, but take my word for it—it's there. Real fights start before you know it, and don't always end when you expect. They aren't fair or clean. It's dirty, ugly, scary, and painful—every single time." Daani hesitates before responding, his eyes searching for anything but my gaze.

"I didn't—Talla hasn't really talked about her job with the rangers in a long time. But she's so strong, it's probably just boring for her, right?" I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow. It's not my place to say anything about that, but I have a hunch.

"Not since she left Mira's team, right?" I ask.

"I think so?" he hedges.

"It was a long time ago."

"Did you ever think to ask why she didn't want to talk about her work anymore?"

"I just assumed she'd gotten sick of us pestering her." Our conversation is interrupted by Talla's voice as she approaches from the direction of the house.

"Is that what you think of me, little brother?" she asks. Daani straightens his back stiffly and turns to bow.

"Lady Talla! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to gossip!" She grabs one of his horns and shakes his head until he swats her hands away.

"You don't need to be so nervous, Daani," she giggles.

"You know I'm always happy to make time for you kids."

"I'm not a kid anymore," he grumbles half-heartedly.

"You haven't finished your core class yet, don't get ahead of yourself," she corrects him.

"Allie, I've been looking for you." I shrug.

"I've been here all day. What do you need?"

"Rara's gotten you a meeting with that engineer you impressed at the party." I scrunch up my face in concentration, pressing a finger against my forehead as I try to recall who she's talking about.

"Uh... Tefi, right?" I ask.

"The guy I drunkenly rambled to about Violet's heat exchanger."

"That's the one," she confirms.

"We're planning to go tomorrow."

"We?"

"I'm going with you and Rara for additional protection, and because mother is very invested in trying to make overtures to The Alchemist."

"What about Draga?" I ask. Talla glances away and scratches the base of her horns.

"He'll uh, be busy. With the tribunal."

"Wait, that's tomorrow?!" I exclaim with a start.

"Shouldn't we be busy with that too?" She shakes her head.

"It's only the first day. The arbiter will be hearing Lady Faarah and Lady Gaa's cases, but no judgments will be made yet." I still feel like we should at least be there for him, but I'll defer to Talla.

"Okay. Thanks for the help training today, Daani! We should do it again some time." He bows politely.

"I'd be happy to! And thank you for the, er, enlightening conversation." I scoop up Nipper as we bid Daani farewell, and Talla leads us back towards the guest house. I hope they're serving dinner—Vi got really caught up with her practice and we haven't eaten anything all day.

"So what were you actually talking to him about, anyway?" Talla asks.

"I only just caught the last part."

"He was asking what real fights were like," I reply, gently scratching Nipper's head as the lethargic worm rests on my shoulder.

"We tried to impress on him that they're not as fun as he thinks."

"Ah. Thank you for that, but I doubt he'll listen," she sighs.

"Boys tend to need to learn that lesson first-hand."

"It can't hurt to try," I argue.

"Have you really never told him about the losses you've suffered as a ranger?" Talla hugs herself and averts her eyes.

"I just didn't want to hurt him. The younger boys look up to me so much, and I was really excited to share stories of my adventures while I was in Mira's team." She sighs and looks up at the sky.

"But then, it all fell apart, and I didn't have the heart to ruin that image they had of me." I purse my lips and give her a sidelong glance.

"Maybe I'm speaking out of turn, and I don't know them as well as you do, but I'll bet they'd rather have a flawed big sister than the image of a perfect one."

"When did you get so damn eloquent?" she groans, bumping me playfully with her hip.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I'll try to be less distant with them."

"Great! Now how would you like to hear about the new spells Vi made?"

"Oooh!" she exclaims, rubbing her hands together.

"Do tell!"