Gwen did her best to match Irina’s pose: knees bent, right leg forward, left fist tucked at her side, right arm outstretched in a blocking position. It felt awkward, like she wasn’t quite getting it, but she wasn’t sure how.

There was no time to figure it out, because Irina was already sliding into the next pose, stepping forward with her left leg and extending her left fist. She moved too slowly to call it a punch, but that seemed to be the basic idea. By practicing with as much care and precision now, Gwen’s muscles would have no problem doing the motions quickly during a real fight.

That was, if she could ever get them right. Irina had cycled Gwen through fifteen different poses for an hour now with no sign of stopping. She hadn’t even taught them to Gwen before starting, just taken the first one and looked expectantly until Gwen tried to mimic her.

Irina wasn’t deaf. Gwen wasn’t even sure she was mute. But whether she couldn’t talk or simply didn’t want to, Gwen hadn’t heard a word from her. In fact, the only direct communication Gwen had received at all had been a scrap of parchment Irina handed her before training. It said Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.

Gwen hadn’t understood until they started going through the poses. Then it had become painfully clear in the most literal way possible. How could moving slow be so much harder than moving fast?

Thankfully, Gwen had gotten a full night’s sleep and a nice breakfast, so she had plenty of energy. Waggoner had made arrangements for Gwen at a nearby inn, including paying up front for two meals per day. The caravan was scheduled to leave at the end of the week, so it wasn’t an insignificant expense.

“If you run off on me,” Waggoner said, “I’ll send Irina after you.”

If Gwen had been planning to skip town, that would have stopped her cold.

Truly, though, she was happy with the setup. A week was longer than she wanted to wait before starting up Ascangen, but it was unlikely the Usurper would be able to get to her in the middle of the city, especially while she was training with Irina.

That training was exciting, too. Gwen had found the perfect mentor: someone who was skilled enough to beat stronger opponents without trouble. If Gwen were ever going to hold her own against the Usurper, Irina’s teaching would be an invaluable piece of that.

At least, if Irina ever let Gwen move past these painful poses. They were the perfect storm of frustration: just slow and repetitive enough to be boring, just hard and involved enough to keep her from meditating. At least Gwen was starting to learn some of the moves Irina had beaten her with last night.

After two hours of cycling through the same fifteen, Irina straightened up. For a moment, it seemed Gwen would finally get her wish.

Before she could join her teacher in relaxing, though, the guard captain stepped over and put her hands on Gwen, adjusting the young woman’s body until she was satisfied. Gwen hadn’t realized a few shifts here and there would make her feel so much more aligned, but they really did. Her stance was sturdier and her balance was better.

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Irina took up the same pose, then moved extra slowly into the next one. Gwen copied her, focusing on every tiny detail of the motion. Once Gwen settled into the second pose, Irina again came over to make adjustments.

This continued until just past midday, when Irina relaxed and gave Gwen a thumbs up. Gwen stood up straight, nearly falling over as she did so. Her muscles were so tight! The problem with moving so slowly was that each pose gave the muscles she wasn’t using time to stiffen up. That stiffness then made moving to the next pose harder, which meant Irina had to make more adjustments, which meant Gwen held it for longer. It was a vicious cycle, and it had left Gwen barely able to move.

Irina beckoned for Gwen to follow. Gwen shuffled after her into the shadow of the building, where Irina sat and pulled out some bread, jam, and cheese. She patted the spot next to her, so Gwen sat down and was handed half of the food.

The two shared a meal in silence. Once they were done, Irina folded her cloak and rested her head on it and closed her eyes to sleep. Gwen didn’t feel like she needed to nap, but she lay down just the same to rest her body and catch up on some meditation.

So, of course, she found herself being nudged awake by Irina half an hour later.

Once they were both on their feet, Irina made a few hand gestures. They were slower and more emphatic than the ones she’d made to Waggoner last night, but Gwen still didn’t understand.

“I don’t...I’m sorry...”

Irina reached into her pocket and handed Gwen a piece of parchment. On it was written, Practice more. I have to do other things. When Gwen looked up, Irina made the same signs as earlier.

Gwen nodded. “I’ll go do that.” As long as her muscles would work with her and loosen up.

They did eventually, but not without coaxing. Gwen took the first pose and promptly cramped up and toppled over. It took half an hour of thorough stretches before she felt limber enough to try again.

Irina left Gwen alone for the rest of the day. Sometimes Gwen caught glimpses of her training with others, and when the sun set, she helped put out lanterns, but other than that, she was off taking care of other duties.

Gwen’s afternoon training was both better and harder than her morning. On one hand, she felt like she had some grasp of how the poses were supposed to feel and how they flowed into each other. On the other hand, if she didn’t take a break every hour to stretch, her muscles would start cramping again. By the time Irina came to get her, no amount of stretching could keep Gwen’s legs from folding under her during the harder transitions. The captain found Gwen sprawled on the ground trying to convince herself to get up and keep trying.

Irina helped Gwen to her feet and handed her a waterskin. Gwen took a sip and coughed, surprised by the sweet, heady taste of mead.

Irina put a finger to her grinning lips.

When Gwen’s lungs calmed down, she chuckled too. “Yes, yes, prank the new person. Well done.” Then she downed about half of the mead, sighing with contentment as the honey coated her dry throat.

Gwen tried to return the skin, but Irina pushed it back toward her. “Oh. Thank you.”

Irina nodded and smiled, then waved goodbye before walking toward the gate. Gwen marveled at how the woman still moved so well after that much work.

Later, back at the inn, the only thing that kept Gwen awake through dinner was the knowledge that if she fell asleep at the table, her face would be in it. Somehow she made it upstairs and peeled off her sweaty clothes before flopping into bed.