It was hard for me to measure the time we spent with the Skreethi, primarily because we spent long periods traversing underground. Sure, we returned to the surface several times through the rocky foothills, but it all got somewhat confusing with how the sun seemed to shift around every time we saw it. We just ended up proceeding slowly and sleeping when it seemed appropriate.

Along the way, I realized there were many more Skreethi than I could have imagined, or maybe we saw the same ones repeatedly as we traveled. Whole families appeared and disappeared from view in the caves, some watching us nervously while others ran up close as if they had been dared to do so. A few snarked at our backs, but the Matriarch only had to stop and turn before they dashed off. Here and there, though, some Skreethi would exchange some cuter-sounding wordless banter with us, then shake their heads as we didn’t seem to get their meaning.

Aleph took time during our frequent breaks to give sword lessons. It was the lightest of taps, but during one such training bout within a large stone chamber, I finally managed to hit his shoulder with the longsword.

“I’m done now, right? Can we stop with the sword lessons?” I gave him my very best ‘reward me’ smile.

“Of course,” he agreed, just a little too quickly.

“O-oh! Then, why don’t we–”

“Get your targe.” Although his voice was as gentle as always, I found myself unable to argue, even though I really, really wanted to. The ‘dad effect’ was strong with him.

I fiddled with my rucksack strap and freed the leather-covered shield from it. As I started to slip my left arm through the double straps, Aleph cleared his throat.

“Give it to me,” he said as he held out his hand, and I did so willingly. Maybe this lesson would be all talk and no work!

“Try hitting my shoulder again,” he instructed as he equipped the targe himself. Oh, for the love of…

I had no words, and neither did he. Instead of explaining anything about the history, composition, or general usefulness of the targe, he simply showed me how effective it was to deflect everything I had just learned with the longsword. After I stubbornly learned that lesson, he started on the next topic without any introduction. After he rerouted my latest sword thrust, he immediately drew the targe back and bashed me, sending me flying back.

“Hey!” I shouted as I stood up with an angry start. “That’s cheating! You didn’t tell me you were going to do that!”

“Oh? So I should tell you I’m going to strike back? As your opponent, you should take that as a given.”

“Just give it back!” I demanded, wiping my wet, muddy hands. “I’m gonna show you!”

“Of course.” He held out the targe, and I snatched it away carefully, half afraid he’d try something else on me in the interim. “You’re not… going to tell me about this thing?”

Aleph picked up my previously discarded staff and started wrapping some padding around one of the ends. “The targe you’re holding is constructed of thin wooden boards held together by wooden pegs. The rim is made of iron, and its front is made from cowhide that has been riveted in place. The back of the targe has been padded with straw and cloth to absorb impact. The straps have been replaced at least once, possibly twice. And while I don’t have a specific tool of measure, it appears its diameter is about 19 and a half inches. The most fascinating thing about this particular targe, however…” he paused as he looked directly at me.

“Yes? What?” I waited expectantly. Could he tell who owned it? Did it have some epic backstory? The rivets had an intricate design on the front; maybe it was a famous maker’s mark?

“... Is it finally captured your attention as a necessary tool for offense and defense!”

I scowled at him intensely as the rest of them burst out laughing. Even the Skreethi Matriarch, who had been lounging on her side, chittered enthusiastically. She definitely understood more than she could say.

“What is this, ‘Gang up on Rae Day?’” I snarked as I equipped the targe.

Aleph blissfully ignored my grumpiness. “Now, I want you just to practice deflecting my attacks with the shield. I will go slowly at first, and we will pretend this is a spear.” Aleph brandished my padded staff. “Are you ready?”

“I suppose…” I started to re-sheath the sword.

“No. You’ll be using that, too.”

“But… I’m clumsy! I should learn the shield by itself, then put them together later.”

“No,” he insisted. “Focus on the shield for now, but keep the longsword in your right hand and use it when you feel it’s appropriate.”

He didn’t strike with the makeshift spear all that quickly, but I still had trouble deflecting it at first. Trying to meet each thrust dead on with the center of my targe was my first mistake; directly opposing forces don’t like to try to turn suddenly after crashing into each other. I also noticed I felt like I had to push a little. He wasn’t just tapping anymore but putting weight behind the shaft. However, when I caught the hit just right, it didn’t take all that much more effort to turn aside the strike successfully, and it even seemed to add something to my counters.

Sometimes, he struck at my sword arm, and I deflected blows there as well. If I got fortunate, I could also get the shield in the offensive mix, but overall, it was still weird trying to manage the sword and shield together. When I finally established the rhythm of blocking with the shield and then attacking with my sword, Aleph destroyed my entire worldview.

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“If you keep that up, you’ll surely lose.”

“What do you mean I’ll lose?”

“The shield is not merely a counterbalance to your sword. You are leaving yourself way too open. The shield should protect even as you attack. Not just before and after.”

“But…” That’s how it works in video games!

“Well… I did warn you this time. Remember that.”

I did not exactly listen. Or maybe I just didn’t understand. In any case, he spent the next several minutes showing me my mistakes by hitting me with the padded end of the staff almost every time I attacked, even when I parried him with the shield first. Frustration overwhelmed me. I couldn’t keep everything in my head and lost my stances. There were just too many things to consider at once. However, there was one way I knew of to show him what I could do. Just imagine yourself as a superhero again.

“I forfeit,” Aleph held up his hand.

“Already? But I didn’t even–”

“Even with the worst technique imaginable, you will surely win without gaining any benefit from the exercise. Therefore, it is not appropriate to continue until you stop using amity.” He resolutely turned away from me.

“But… it’s too hard otherwise!”

“It is very likely that you will come across opponents for whom amity alone will not be enough, but I am not one of them. There may also be times when using amity to its fullest extent is simply not a wise choice. You cannot just train on what you are good at. You must train on various skills to appropriately respond to different threats.”

I sighed, finding my glow already dissipating. “It’s all just too much…” I still couldn’t get it right. I took a few hits from the padding, and while they did little more than sting, it was just a constant, crushing reminder that I was just a fake with no natural talent of my own.

“Rae!” Tetora finally snapped.

“What! What now! I get it, I’m stupid, okay?!” I could feel tears forming in my eyes. My arms and feet just couldn’t coordinate themselves.

“You’re not stupid. Just stop thinking so hard!”

“What do you mean, just stop–”

“You’re getting in the way of yourself.”

I took a moment to kick at the stony floor in frustration before righting myself and trying again.

Tetora yawned, slapping his tail on the ground. “Just do better. Don’t think about anything else.” I hoped his students didn’t have to pay him for his teachings! Git gud. Gee, why the hell didn’t I think of that?!

…

Except it worked.

As long as I focused on other things, moves went well, feeling like a choreographed dance triggered by my opponent's actions. If my mind got in the way, though, it just kept short-circuiting on the idea that this should take me much longer to learn. Once my brain and I finally agreed not to think about the whole situation too hard, we were happier with what we needed to do: getting this embarrassing show over with!

“Much better,” Tetora approved, scratching at his ear.

“This is a good place to stop,” Aleph agreed. “Let’s not get too tired and pick up bad habits.”

A weltering of various emotions filled me, but ultimately, exhaustion won out. “Okay. Thank you, Grandmasters,” I bowed to them both, maybe even a little sincerely. The Matriarch, interestingly enough, stood up, turned to them, and also bowed. Was she making fun of me?

Time passed as we continued our underground and aboveground journey through Skreethi territory. We ate several small, cold meals interspersed between four long rests before daylight again poured in from around the corner of another cracked cavern wall.

The Matriarch thumped her tail, and two scrawny-looking Skreethi darted through the opening on all fours. It was a few minutes before they returned with a casual stride on their hind legs.

“Seras,” one of them reported to the Matriarch.

She turned then and glared at Vernie. “Krreshat!”

“Uh, right then?” she responded with little conviction.

Her response must have been satisfactory because they all suddenly ran off back the way we came. Vernie also peered out the exit carefully after letting her eyes adjust to the daylight.

“Well, I’ll be… it’s Lake Potiri! Looks like we took a smelly shortcut! But this is the perfect place to clean up.”

I didn’t notice their smell anymore. Had I gotten used to it, or had I just stopped associating it with something bad? We started to head towards the lake, but I just couldn’t get over the abrupt abandonment.

“I feel like we should have at least said thank you…” I murmured, adjusting the rucksack on my back. An apple, which I had saved as it was fresher than the others, fell out from the poorly secured top and bounced several times, taking on a few dents. I could have eaten it before it developed a bruise, but I was just so sick of apples. “Ah…, I’ll just roll this back in the cavern. I’m sure some lucky Skreethi will find it.”

“Don’t dawdle,” Vernie warned as the others approached the inviting lake.

As I returned, I found the same two Skreethi lookouts swinging sticks at each other. When we locked eyes, they gasped and darted around the corner as if I had caught them red-handed.

“You know… I think you were on to something earlier with those rocks as ranged weapons,” I called after them as I rolled the apple farther in. “Your arms are a little too short for close combat, and your enemy rides horses, right? But if I were you, I’d sharpen some sticks and learn to throw them. Then you wouldn’t have to get in so close.”

The two slowly returned around the corner with flattened ears and low tails, chewing on the apple's last bits.

“You guys… understand every word out of my mouth, don’t you?” I finally asked.

They made a show of looking at each other awkwardly for a few moments but avoided making any noises in response. On the off chance that they didn’t, I took one stick and gestured at its end. “Sharp. Like teeth.” I pointed to one of my canines. “Then throw.” I hurled it at the wall, wondering if it would work for me, too. But then that would mean even more training for yet a different weapon proficiency.

The one on the left bowed, while the other turned with a startled jump before smacking them several times. The first one reciprocated in kind, and they both devolved into a dust devil of teeth and claws.

“Uh,” I started, and they both paused, breaking off from each other.

“No, it must have been my imagination. Too bad… But thanks for everything.” I waved and left them to practice in private. I wouldn’t rat them out to anyone. It wasn’t any of my business, anyway.