"Sword up."
Delilah wobbled on her feet at the heavy blows that rained down from over head. She swung at him, sword easily swatted away by his hand, which only added to the insult.
"Focus Delilah."
"I prefer magic practice" she huffed, eyes narrowed, glaring at the wooden sword that had broken through her block, and come to a halt in front of her nose, as he broke through her defences.
"I don't recall asking" Mavrik countered "Again".
Delilah groaned, moving back into the stance that Mavrik had taught her. Their sparring session had been longer than usual. It seemed Mavrik was more intent than ever to make sure she mastered fighting. Ever since the fight with the hag, he had been pushing her harder, clearly unsettled by the way the fight had played out. Though Delilah sensed perhaps the heavy wooden jabs, and short frustrated commands, weren't solely directed at her. Cursing as she was sent stumbling back by a sharp jab from Mavrik's shoulder, crashing to the floor with a hiss.
Pulling herself back onto her feet, adjusting her grip on her sword, hand to hand and weapon fighting didn't come to her as easily as magic. Her muscles unused to the strain of deflecting the weight of a blow, her simple life and quiet life with Nadia as a kitchen hand doing few favours.
"You're small."
"And you really know how to compliment a girl." Grunting at the sting of the flat side of Mavrik's sword firmly thumping the top of her head.
"Use it to your advantage" he chided.
Hard eyes boring into hers, although the corner of his lips held slight amusement, making her childishly wish he had his helmet on. He took far too much enjoyment in stabbing her with a wooden stick, for Delilah's liking.
Raising her sword up as they continued, trying to parry his hits, following through with an attack if he gave her an opening, often at the expense of providing a weakness in her own defences. Ignoring the discouraging voice that niggled in the back of her head.
Letting herself lose track of how many times she was sent sprawling to the floor, even without all his gear on she was no match for the man, he was surprisingly agile behind the heavy hits. Trying to take his advice and instruction into her next movements, focusing on reading his posture and noticing the weight on his foot shift as his shoulders twitched. Ducking under his over head blow, as she used her momentum to straighten, and push back against his sword. Her eyes met his, as she leaned into the collided swords, realising her mistake. He offered her a charismatic smile, pushing forward off his back foot, breaking her stance, as his leg wrapped around the back of hers.
"Good. But you're thinking too much."
Delilah felt her feet once again be knocked out from under her, flailing backwards as she prepared for the ground rush up to meet her. Only to feel Mavrik's firm arm wrap across her shoulders, allowing her to catch her footing, before releasing her. Heaving in ragged breaths she looked up at Mavrik in gratitude, hair falling haphazardly over her dirt stained face. He stepped away, retrieving her sword which she had dropped in the fall.
"You did well, that's enough for now."
Delilah grinned, relief and pride swelling at his words, washing over her as she stretched her aching muscles. Eyeing the back of Mavrik as he made his way towards Glenn, packing away the training swords.
"I'm going to wash up" she called, turning on heel and making her way out of the clearing, pushing through the tightly knitted foliage. Delilah grinned at the sound that greeted her, it wasn't often they were able to make camp so close to a stream, crystal waist deep water beckoning her. Wasting no time in stripping off her cloak, scarf, and tunic before unceremoniously kicking off her boots and pants with a few clumsy hops. She dove into the shallow body of water, feeling it bite and claw through the dirt and grime. Her head broke the surface, setting to work scrubbing her skin and hair with a sigh of content, the chilling embrace of the water welcoming on her tired pastel greyish, lilac skin. The forest that hid her watched in silence, save the whispers of the breeze through the canopy of leaves.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
She laid back, letting the water cradle her, as she stared up at the fluffy clouds peering through the leaves overhead in the pinkish sky, arms stretched out from her sides. They were only a days ride from the next town, hopefully they could earn some coin especially with their supplies running low. Watching the lengthening dappled shadows, that skittered and played on the riverbank, her imagination running wild with thoughts of them partaking in a game of chase. The world, muted by the water in her ears continued to spin by, last light settling in as the sun tussled with the horizon.
After a moment of internal persuasion, she reluctantly rose to her feet, wading back to the shore line and pulling her clothes back on. Had she been away for too long? Hesitating as she poked her thumb through a tear in her cloak, her clothes had certainly seen better days, and her sewing skills weren't the best. Shrugging, Delilah pulled it back around her shoulders, making her way back to their camp site. By now Mavrik had started a fire, preparing some rations over the flames. She settled across from him, absently prodding at the embers, the heat from the flames kissed her damp cheeks. Taking a moment to admire Mavrik's features in the golden fire light, admittedly he wasn't bad on the eyes, in the rugged adventurer way. Strong jawline prickled with stubble, dark ashen blonde hair hacked by his own hands into a short mop, framing his face and possessing a natural wave through it. A few scars lined his cheek and hands reflecting his hard life style.
Realising she'd been staring when she found his stormy light grey eyes watching her in amusement "Hungry?" his level tone hung in the air.
Delilah almost choked, looking away quickly, until she felt a plate of food pushed into her hands. "Very. Thank you" she tried to salvage her embarrassment, stuffing a mouthful of food and keeping her gaze anywhere but on his, investing herself in her meal stubbornly.
He tilted his head up to the sky, a small smile still present, seeming to take mercy on her as they continued to eat.
"Do you know about constellations?"
Despite herself, the devil-kin couldn't contain her interest "Would you teach me?"
Mavrik nodded finishing his meal, before laying back as he lazily pointed out one of the brighter stars.
"Many use the stars for navigation at night. That star is the North star, always at the tail of that cluster of stars next to it."
"It looks like a bear!"
"I suppose it could? So long as you know how to find it, you can find your way."
Delilah listened intently to his deep rumbling voice, eventually settling into her bed roll by the fire. She continued to trace images with her imagination, until the stars began to turn hazy under her heavy eyelids. Hearing the rustle of Mavrik getting up, knowing he would do what he did every night when he thought she was asleep. He would retrieve the huge, wide sword, wrapped in cloth that he carried on his back and sit with it over his folded legs, as he whispered a prayer in a foreign tongue. Some nights Delilah had caught him doing this strange ritual, but she didn't dare ask, it was clearly something the man wasn't prepared to share with her. Delilah tucked her nose further into her bed roll, head filled with new names, stories, and pin pricked patterns of wonky shaped animals. Perhaps one day he would share his own story, she would make sure she was there for him when he was ready. Just as the man had always been there for her.
*********
Fire.
Blazing hungry flames waited for her in the darkness. Surrounding her, as jarring whispers of several voices speaking at the same time filled her ears. Delilah was unable to make sense of it as she looked at her hands, feeling a strange weight on them, realising shackles hung from her slender wrists.
She tried to scream, to call for.. who was she calling for?
Her thoughts were thick, like they were made of coagulated blood. Unable to form a coherent thought, as the fire raced closer, she struggled against her constraints. A hand grabbed her shoulder, pulling her back into the safety of nothingness, her surroundings turning black.
'You're not ready. Little one.'
The voice was feminine, soft and melodic.
Ready for what?
Delilah frowned, squinting open her eyes at the watery sunlight of day break greeted her. Confused by her own lingering question, as any memory of the strange dream was swallowed into the darkness that snuffed the flames.