Chapter 18: Finding Strength in Training.

The morning sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled light across grounds outside Talon and Ava’s cabin. The crisp air carried the sounds of rustling leaves and distant bird calls, but Callie’s focus was entirely on the task ahead. She stood in the middle of the makeshift ring, shifting her weight nervously as she waited for Ava.

The cabin door creaked open, and Ava strolled out, tying her hair back in a loose braid. She carried her usual air of confidence, her boots crunching softly against the dirt. “Ready to get your ass kicked again?” she teased, though her tone was warm.

Callie managed a weak smile, her nerves betraying her. “I’m ready... I think. But I still don’t get how you and Talon make this look so easy.”

Ava chuckled as she rolled her shoulders, loosening up. “Trust me, ‘easy’ doesn’t enter into it. We’ve both been at this for years. What makes it work is that we don’t fight the same way. No two fighters do.”

Callie tilted her head, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

Ava stepped into the ring, motioning for Callie to follow. “Take Talon, for example. He’s a scout, trained for speed and stealth, but his fighting style? That’s all his own. He combines brute force with precision—he’s like a wrecking ball with a scalpel. Me? I don’t have his size or strength, so I rely on agility, misdirection, and adaptability. When we spar, I don’t try to beat him at his game. I make him play mine.”

Callie hesitated, stepping in opposite Ava. “So, what does that mean for me?”

“It means you don’t need to be like me or Talon,” Ava replied, crouching into a ready stance. “You need to figure out what works for *you*. That’s what we’re doing today.”

Ava started with a demonstration, moving through a fluid series of steps, pivots, and quick strikes, her movements almost hypnotic in their precision. Her footwork was light and deliberate, her balance unshakable. She closed the distance toward Callie, stopping just short of making contact, then darted back with the same grace.

Callie blinked, trying to process the speed and coordination. “How do you even move like that?”

“It’s a mix of everything I’ve learned,” Ava said, standing upright again. “The basics from Sentinel training gave me a strong foundation. Then there were the groups I worked with outside the Sentinels—each one had their own techniques. Some taught me how to fight in close quarters, others how to disarm an opponent. And then there’s Talon.”

Callie perked up at the mention of Talon. “His style is different, isn’t it? More... aggressive?”

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Ava smirked, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “That’s putting it lightly. His training as a scout was intense, but his personal style? Let’s just say it’s unique. Why don’t you ask him about it sometime?” She stepped closer, throwing an arm around Callie’s shoulder with a playful grin. “I’m sure he’d love to tell you all about it.”

Callie laughed nervously, her tension easing a bit. “Maybe I will.”

“Good. But for now, let’s focus on you. Show me what you’ve got.”

Callie nodded, taking up a stance. She moved cautiously at first, mimicking what she’d seen Ava do. Her steps were clunky, her weight uneven, and her strikes lacked the speed and precision needed to land a hit. She stumbled during a pivot, her face flushing with frustration.

Ava paused, stepping back to give her space. “Stop overthinking it,” she said. “You’re trying too hard to copy me. Don’t. This isn’t about being perfect—it’s about finding what feels right for you. Loosen up, let your instincts take over.”

Callie took a deep breath, resetting herself. This time, she moved slower, paying attention to her balance and rhythm. Her steps became more deliberate, her movements smoother. Her attempts to feint and dodge began to feel more natural.

To illustrate her point, Ava dropped effortlessly into a perfect split, her movements smooth and precise. She stayed there for a moment, adjusting her position with ease. “Flexibility,” Ava said, gesturing to her pose, “is one of the things I’ve worked on the most. It gives me a huge advantage in fights, especially when someone tries to pin me.”

Callie stared, wide-eyed. “Whoa... I didn’t even know people could do that.”

Ava grinned, rising back up in one fluid motion. “Becoming nimble makes you a problem for any opponent, especially if they’re bigger and slower. But it’s not about doing exactly this—it’s about figuring out what *your* advantage is.”

Callie absorbed this, her brow furrowing as she thought it through. “So... I don’t have to be like you? I just need to find what I’m good at?”

“Exactly,” Ava replied, nodding. “This isn’t about you becoming me or Talon. This is about finding your own strengths and using them.”

The spark in Callie’s eyes returned as she began to understand. “I... I think I get it,” Callie murmured, her voice filled with a mix of relief and determination.

“Good,” Ava said, smiling. “Now let’s put it into practice.”

At first, Callie struggled to find the right flow, her movements clunky and hesitant. She stumbled a few times, her face burning with frustration. But Ava was patient, offering small pointers and encouraging her to focus on what felt natural.

After several tries, Callie began to find her rhythm. She weaved lightly, pivoted smoothly, and began to counter Ava’s moves with increasing confidence. When she managed to land a light tap on Ava’s shoulder during a feint, she stopped, staring at her own hands in disbelief.

“See?” Ava said, beaming. “You’ve got it in you.”

The session continued, with Callie growing more comfortable in her movements and less afraid of making mistakes. When they finally paused for a break, Ava tossed a towel at Callie with a smirk. “You can do this, kid. You’ve got heart—and that’s half the battle.”

As they made their way back toward the cabin, Ava slung an arm around Callie’s shoulders. “Stick with it. I see potential in you. We’ll get you there.”

Callie looked up, her face flushed but smiling. “Thanks, Ava. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” Ava replied, her grin returning. “Now let’s see what Talon’s managed to cook us up for dinner.”

Callie laughed, the doubts she’d carried for so long beginning to fade. With each lesson, she was finding her own path—and her own strength.