"Like this."

"This?"

"Not quite. Here." Selerim reached his sister's shoulder, guiding her hands into the right position. She held a piece of bone out in front of her, taken from the Reavers he'd killed the night before.

"I never thought about how many thing you actually had to learn."

"No one ever does."

"Including you?"

He nodded. "I thought I'd just be learning how to fight. And I did. But that's just one part of it." He took the chunk of bone from her. "Watch how I do it. It doesn't need to be perfect. And you won't be able to do it the same way every time, anyways."

"What are these even *for*? I always saw you carrying them, but I've never seen you use one."

"They're meant to be disposable. I usually throw them, but having a supply of short weapons is helpful."

"And you carved all of them by hand?"

"Yes. Well. Not all. Most." He pulled the portion he was working on. "It gets easier the more you do it. And bone is brittle. It breaks easily. If you break it in just the right way, you can make your life easier."

"How long did it take you to get the hang of it?"

"A few months. Like I said, it doesn't need to be perfect. Just usable."

"... Are you feeling better?"

Selerim's hands paused. "Yeah."

"Good." Gwyn leaned forward, eyes fixed on the half-shaped portion of bone. She remained silent as he worked.

"Here." Coming to a finish a few moments later, he pressed pressed the complete knife into one of her outstretched hands.

She tapped the flat of its blade against her palm.

"I'll show you how to throw it." Selerim added another piece of firewood to the crackling fire before standing. "Make sure you watch where it goes. You'll need them tomorrow." He pointed to the forest's edge. "See the nearest tree? That's your target. Wait." He grabbed the arm that rose in response. "Watch me first."

Dropped his arm, he retrieved one of the two throwing knives at his hip. He clasped the flat of its blade between his thumb and pointer finger. "Hold it like this. Careful- don't cut yourself."

"When you throw it, keep your wrist straight. That'll help keep your throw consistent every time. It doesn't matter what direction your arm comes from. Some hold it sideways. Others straight up. Just keep an eye on your target. And when you throw it-" Selerim went through the motions- "I think of pointing my fingers at my target." He did it again, this time letting the blade fly from between his fingers. It thudded against the nearest tree a moment later.

"Point with my fingers," Gwyn muttered to herself, trying to replicating his movement. "Like this?"

"Almost." Selerim grabbed hold of his sister's hand. "More like this. Try it."

The bone knife slammed down into the ground, a number of paces away from the tree that his own had struck.

"Close." He reached for his second throwing knife, pressing it into Gwyn's hand and raising her arm. "Like this." He awkwardly dragged her hand through the motions. "Flick your wrist at the very end. That's all the strength you need. I think you have the basic idea. You're just too nervous to put all your strength behind it."

"I don't want to lose it."

Selerim laughed. "These aren't expensive. And, remember- these are supposed to be disposable." He closed her fingers around the knife's handle. "There's nothing more valuable than your life. Don't hesitate to give up weapon in return for blocking a fatal strike."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Good."

He stepped away, watching as Gywn mimed a throw- and then followed through the next. The knife struck the tree this time; five hands below the first, and very off-center.

"Better." Selerim went to retrieve them. "It's another thing that you'll get better with over time. And it's another thing that you can practice without having me around- you should keep up with it while I'm gone."

"Alright." She threw the bone knife again- it missed the tree this time, sailing to the right of it. "I hit it last time..."

He laughed. "You need to be able to hit it *every* time."

"How long did it take for you?"

"A very long time. There's no real substitute for practice. Or experience."

"Time is something we seem to be short on." The first throwing knife hit the ground a few paces away. "I'm starting to understand why you were always training. There's a lot that goes into... All of this."

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

He smiled. "Did you think I was just lazy?"

"Sometimes," Gwyn admitted, bringing her arm back for another throw. The second struck true, but well above the first gash. "You were gone a lot."

"I know," Selerim said, retrieving the knives once again. "Did you... Hold it against me?"

She shook her head as she accepted them. "No. Sometimes I wished you were around more, but I was never upset or angry. And it's not like you were completely gone from our lives. You had things you wanted to do. I wasn't going to stand in the way."

"I would've spent more time at home if you asked."

"I know. That's why I never did." She paused, bringing back the first metal knife. "I'm always happy to spend time with you, but I won't keep you from doing the things you want to."

"... Have you always thought about it like that?"

"Not consciously."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I always thought about it," Gwyn answered, her voice gentle. "I just wasn't always able to put it into words."

"... I see."

"Do you know when you're leaving? For the elven kingdom?"

"Not yet. But probably soon. I think Suli is just waiting for things to warm up a little bit." He saw her shiver at that.

"I hope it warms up soon."

"It will. A little bit, at least."

"Are you worried about the journey?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"It's hard to explain." Selerim sighed. "I got the same feeling in the day leading up to a hunt. I'm just... Waiting for something to happen." He turned his gaze back to the darkness that surrounded them.

"What?"

"... Everything, I guess."

"Everything?"

He nodded. "Waiting was always the worst part."

"That's..."

"Strange?"

"A little."

He laughed before stepping to retrieve the knives again. "Maybe. It's just... The anticipation. Sometimes it gets to you. Here." He handed them back to Gwyn. "Keep practicing."

image [https://i.imgur.com/T7fdvjj.png]

Gwyn whipped her arm out, letting her wrist flick and straighten as she brought the knife down in an arc. Its glossy white body caught the uneven firelight as it flew through the air. *How does he do it every time?* Her brother made it look so easy. Just up... And then down.

The second, one of the metal ones Selerim carried, buried itself in her target. It was early morning. This was the earliest the two of them had woken during their excursion so far; but then, this was part of life in Umbra.

She threw the second, watching as it missed the tree by half a hand. It would take them some time to return to the city, and she was determined to make the most of it. Now, at least, Gwyn had something to do during his absence.

Stepping up to the tree, she pulled both knives free before stooping over to pick up the third- and then jumped as Nyx lighted on her outstretched arm in a flurry of shadow.

Gwyn forced her heartbeat to steady as the duskwing vanished just as quickly, leaving behind a trail of shadow in her wake. She followed under it, and before long, Selerim came into view. He stood somewhat awkwardly, leaned over on his sword with one foot planted into the deep snow. "You're here." The bodies of three Reavers were half-buried in the surrounding white.

Nyx landed on his shoulder as she stepped up. "Look." He pointed downwards. Following his finger, Gwyn realized he was *standing* on a Reaver, pinning its snarling maw to the ground with his boot. "If you had a real weapon, it wouldn't matter. You'd just have to jam it in far enough. But because you don't, and because you're using a staff for now, aim here," he tapped its head. "And here," then then pointed to its spine.

"Normally you'd have a bladed weapon, so aiming for the head would be a kill shot. Cutting or smashing the spine paralyzes them."

"Alright."

"... Are you sure you're ready for this?" Gwyn could hear the implication in her brother's words. *Last chance to back out.*

She nodded.

"Back up a little bit."

She followed Selerim's directions. He waited until there were a few paces between them, then his foot up, yanking his sword free in the same motion. Bluish blood trailed off its tip as he stepped away- and the Reaver was free.

One moment, it was pinned, and the next, on all fours, with its back to Gwyn. Selerim moved quickly, taking a step back and then forward just as quickly. The Reaver yelped as his boot smashed into its head, momentarily dazed.

"You said you wanted experience," he said, backpedaling towards Gwyn.

"And this is your way of giving it?" She asked dryly.

"For now."

"Is this how Corvus trained you?"

"In part." Selerim pointed towards the Reaver. "Just one. No special abilities. Nothing else to worry about."

"... Alright." Gwyn hefted her staff as she stepped forward.

The Reaver's eyes flicked to hers. That was enough to make her flinch. She thought sparring with Selerim might prepare her for this, but that couldn't have been further from the truth. There was a hatred in its eyes that his eyes would never match.

She swallowed- and then jerked back as the monster dashed forward. It was vaguely bear-like, with small, round ears and a muscular body that made its head look almost comically tiny.

*Remember what he taught you.* Gwyn fixed her eyes on the beast's front paws, swinging her staff to intercept the first of its strikes. She ducked under the smooth, cold metal as the first blow glanced off taking another step back as the Reaver turned to match her. Though clearly wounded, it was plenty capable of keeping track of her.

She continued like that for a time, ducking under its blows and keeping a few paces between them at all times.

Selerim watched from the side, his body tense; waiting to jump in at a moment's notice.

Gwyn turned another strike, then brought her weapon up to counterattack- only to pause as its eyes locked onto hers.

That was enough to break her focus. The hatred in those two glowing spheres was difficult to put into words. It went beyond what the word could really capture. It was more like loathing- a loathing born over her very existence. She flinched as the Reaver roared- she could *feel* its need for violence settle around her like a physical thing.

The strength in her arms faltered- and Selerim stepped between them, severing the Reaver's head with a single strike.

"Shh," he whispered, letting his sword fall into the snow below and pulling her into a hug. "Everyone gets caught up by that, at first."

"Even you?"

"Mhm," he soothed, "It's different from sparring."

"It hated me."

"That's what makes it so hard the first time," he said, gently taking the staff from her hands.

"Is this why you agreed to let me do it? To see how I would react?"

"Sort of," he admitted. "I needed to know. And to show you what this is actually all about. It's not like sparring with me. Or with mom. They want you dead."

"I could feel how much it hated me," Gwyn whispered. "Is that normal?"

"Yes," her brother answered. "It seems to be one of their defining features. I had it worse than you, the first time."

"Really?"

"Yes. Corvus always wanted to push me."

"Did you hate him for that?"

"No." He shook his head. "I was grateful for it. I think it was his way of giving me something else to focus on." Selerim turned at that, hoisting the Reaver's headless body up over one shoulder.

"What's that for?"

"You need to know how to gut and skin them."

"... Can we at least eat beforehand?"