“What? Now?”

He nodded then scoured around for his clothing. Better he got dressed before he got sunburnt in all the wrong places.

“But I don’t have a sword and I don’t think I can lift yours, not unless you have strongarm magic in one of those little bottles?”

He pulled his shirt over his head then shook his hair. Sand went flying everywhere. “I’ll find us some sticks. Safer to learn with.”

“Alright.” There was some hesitance in her voice, but no outright objection.

He peered at her before he went off in search of some suitable substitutes. She looked happy enough about this turn of events. A small smiled tugged at the edge of one corner of her mouth. Satisfied, he left her on the beach while he made his way inland a short distance.

He relieved himself against one tree and then ripped some suitable branches off another.

“Fresh branches?” she asked when he returned.

He nodded. “Less likely to break.” He’d made them approximately sword sized and then with a dagger he’d cut some notches to represent where the handle would end. He handed her one branch. “Alright, hold that like you are about to fight.”

She took her stick between two hands, her right one slightly higher up than the left but close together. She stood with her left foot forward, and sword pointing out and up in an almost standard plough guard.

“Hmm.” He frowned.

“What? Am I doing something wrong already?” she asked with a gentle laugh.

“Are you left handed or right handed?”

“Right.”

“Put your other foot forward. You want your dominant hand just under the guard and your dominant foot forward.”

She adjusted her position then glanced down at her hands questioningly.

He walked around each side of her then stood alongside her. “And you’d generally hold it one handed, like this.” He showed her on his own stick. “Right hand up and under the guard or a little lower is fine too, and left hand in close to your body to start with. You want your feet shoulder width apart and bend your knees slightly. When you want to move, always lead with the foot closest to that direction. So if you want to go forward, you move the right foot first. To go back you move the left. To go right you move the right, and left is left, got it?”

She nodded.

He put his own stick down and then he stepped behind her, right up close. He covered her sword hand with his own and gently shifted her arm in to be more centered.

She turned her face in toward him so he could feel her breath on his cheek.

“Pay attention,” he said, as much a reminder to himself as it was to her.

She was so close he could feel her smile as she turned her head to look forward again.

“This is called the plough guard. You want the tip of the blade pointed at your opponent’s throat, not higher, not lower. At their throat.”

She nodded then she asked, “Why’s it called the plough guard?”

“Because the way you strike with it and cut through your opponent’s defense mimics the movement of a plough cutting though the earth. You thrust forward and up like this while moving forward.” He moved her arms in a demonstration.

“Right.”

“It’s also easy to parry most attacks from there, although since most of your opponents will be taller than you, perhaps we should start with a high guard.” He stepped away so he could better judge from a distance.

She was more focused on the swordplay now. He watched as she practiced a few forward thrusts with her stick.

“Keep your right foot forward,” he reminded her.

“Oh, right”

“Maybe it would be better with a real sword so you could get used to the weight, but I guess this will have to do.” He’d tried to pick a relatively heavy branch but it was nothing like a real sword.

After a few more thrusts she stopped. “So what’s the high guard. Show me?” She flashed him a smile that almost made him forget what they were supposed to be doing.

He got behind her again and shifted her sword arm up so her wrist was open to the sky and the blade pointed down toward right. Once she was in position he stepped away again and demonstrated the same with his own stick.

“This feels awkward,” she complained.

“It’s good for defence, easy to parry from for a beginner, especially against taller opponents.”

She shot him a look out of the corner of her eyes. “Like you?” she asked slyly.

He could guess what she had in mind and really there was no better way to learn than real world practice, even if it was just with sticks.

He turned to face her and she did the same to him, a determined look on her face.

She switched back to plough guard, obviously more comfortable with it and then she came at him from the side.

He parried easily and gently. He gave her a moment to recover and then he went on the attack. He tapped her shoulder, her belly, and her leg.

She tucked herself in behind her ‘sword’ and barely even managed a single parry. She moved back and he followed. He gave her a brief rest and then he followed up with more.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she yelped as she kept backing up.

He pulled back and gave her an expectant look.

“You’re too fast,” she complained.

“Sword fighting is fast, especially with the kinds of swords we use. That was slow, not even half as fast as I can go.” It was important she understood what a real fight was like. He didn’t want to teach her the sword and then have her run headlong into battle with only the basic skills. Because knowing her, that’s exactly what she would do. Even if she did have her fire magic, a good swordsman might swing at her before she even got the chance to think. The best defence wasn’t always the best offense. Reacting to a sword being thrust at you by incinerating one’s opponent might save a life in a moment but it would very quickly mark you as the prime target for every other enemy in range and many of them would have their own magic were a battle to escalate.

At the look on her face he worried that maybe he’d gone too far though. Guilt fell upon him. She looked terrified. He didn’t want to scare her off from trying. But a moment later she jutted her chin out and the look of fear was replaced by steely determination. Only for a moment though, then doubt returned.

She shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to block. There was a mix of doubt and determination there now and a look that said ‘show me.’

He swallowed down his feelings of guilt. “Alright, first I’ll show you the different strikes. Then I’ll show you how to defend against them.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

He showed her in slow motion a few times, then at a much faster pace. Each one they went over several times. By early evening she was at least able to parry some gentle blows and dodge the more common attacks. It was when he realised that she was starting to slow that he suggested they stop for food.

“But, I’ve almost got it,” she panted. She was certainly determined.

He shook his head. “If you practice lazily because you’re tired you’ll get used to a lazy guard. Plus, we still have to climb up to that little cave later if you want to wake up to the sunrise in the morning,” he reminded her. “And we should probably cook before it gets too dark.”

She glanced at the sky. “Oh, right, I guess that’s a good idea.”

----------------------------------------

They walked back up the hill along the sandy path, which Amanda had run down earlier. She attacked the odd tree on the way, trying to put into practice the strikes that Sirius had shown her but he was right, she was tired and as the path tilted up, she gave the work a rest. She’d seen some of the crew practicing back on the ship but it was nothing compared to having someone come come at you directly and she was under no illusions that if she got into a sword fight with someone like Sirius she would be skewered faster than you could say barbecue.

She’d noticed that each time her parrying had improved, he’d put a little extra force into the next blow. He certainly hadn’t gone easy on her that was for sure. But that was fine. She didn’t need to be babied. She did wonder how much he had held back though. Those hadn’t been the full-force strikes of a strongarm. She knew that. In a way that made it even more impressive. He’d known exactly how much force he’d needed to put into each strike and he’d managed to execute each move with speed and precision, neither overwhelming her nor making it easy.

Sirius had said that it was more about speed and precision than it was about strength and Amanda could see that. If the blade was sharp, it didn’t need to hit that hard, but strength obviously helped a lot too. So did reach, and that she just didn’t have. He’d said the trick for her was to look for an opening, to wait for her opponent to make a mistake, but most importantly, to always make sure she knew where her opponent’s sword was.

They reached the cave in no time. Amanda glanced around, trying to figure out how he’d gotten down to the beach earlier but she couldn’t see any obvious path, just lots of bush and reasonably thick bush at that. If he’d gone through that way earlier then he’d been awful careful about not leaving a trail. She was sure if she looked more closely later she’d find the spot but for now they had more sticks to gather and dinner to prepare.

Before they started on dinner, Sirius led her around the eastern side of the hill, where there was a little waterfall which they could wash the sand off under and collect drinking water from. There was just enough space for two of them under the weak flow. They both stripped down to nothing again and huddled under it, their bodies as close together as they had been on the beach, but it was too cold for much of anything steamy, and neither wanted to stay there too long.

They returned to camp soon, sun still high enough to warm and dry them, although she could tell it would probably get nippy later. She got a fire going while Sirius prepped some potatoes. They chatted while they worked, and while they ate too. Sirius told her tales about the island and other places far from here. Tales that made her home town feel very small by comparison. Tales that she wasn’t sure were all entirely true. But the way he told them made her wonder if there wasn’t an element of truth in each of them, truth that if she looked really carefully for, she’d be able to find.

“… and so the rabbit-boy stayed where he was and he swore to defend the Skeleton Islands and all that lay beyond her from any more beasts that emerged from whirlpool, while his sister sailed for home to tell his tale and to warn of that which lies at the bottom of the world.”

As Sirius’s voice tapered off like whisper into the night, the land around them felt silent. Amanda could almost swear that there was a ghost rabbit, jumping away out of sight, just as she turned her head and eyed the shadowy trees with suspicion. She wasn’t afraid though. Sirius was here. His large frame hidden under that dark black coat. His face lit by the flickering light of the flames. She was also now more than a couple of sips into the bottle of rum and feeling quite content. It was good rum she decided.

She offered the bottle to Sirius.

He glanced at it and then shook his head.

“Not much cargo to defend here,” she remarked, although she was already bringing it back to her own lips.

“Mmm.”

She caught a small smile on his lips but decided not to push him. It might be more fun when two were drinking but she also kind of admired him for his self-restraint, with both the sword and the bottle. She was trying to think of another topic when he spoke.

“I don’t really like drinking so much because it makes me feel not like myself. Not in control.”

“Well, you don’t have to. I’ll drink for you,” she slurred with a smile.

He gave her another smile then, but she could see from his eyes that he had more to say.

“I like you perfectly fine as you are,” she admitted, the alcohol emboldening her.

“It’s also not good for you you know.” But his smile had deepened and his tone was teasing.

“Neither is jumping overboard to attack a kraken,” Amanda replied without missing a beat.

It prompted a chuckle from him. “We all have our vices.” He was silent a moment then he added, “It's not all the time I feel like that. Sometimes it's okay, nice even. It depends on what I've eaten, where I am, the company." He paused to look at her with a smile, then he glanced toward the flames, a serious expression returning. “But sometimes I worry, what if I lose myself? What if…” He trailed off and was silent for some time.

She nodded as she studied the flames before her. "Alcohol's like that. It'll sweep you off your feet, make you fall in love, and then shatter your heart and leave you with a splitting headache... Love's like that too I suppose."

"What? It makes you speak nonsense?" He said it with a straight face but when she laughed his smile finally cracked.

She leaned her head against him and they both watched the fire burn. Sparks drifted off like little fireflies into the starry sky.

His voice broke through the night, a whisper loud against the quiet background.

“What if I’m not who I think I am? What if I’m more like...”

She tilted her head to look up as his face. He was staring straight ahead but as she spoke he turned his face toward her, just briefly.

“What if... you’re like your dad?” she asked, understanding now what it was he was worried about.

He nodded and stared into the flames again. He looked so serious she wanted to wrap him up in a hug but she got the sense he wanted a logical argument, well maybe a hug too.

Her fingers found his and she intertwined their hands together but she pulled herself upright so she could better gauge his reaction. Speaking in a voice as serious as he looked she replied, “Well, I’ve never met your dad but from what I’ve heard you seem about as different from him as two people can get.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, but that’s because I put a lot of effort into not being like him. What if it’s all just pretend?”

“When I was a kid and I was scared of something, my dad always told me that all you had to do was pretend you weren’t scared, and that if you pretended at something long enough then that’s what you become.”

His smile returned for a moment and then it fell away again. “Somehow, I don’t think if you pretended to be a jellyfish you’d ever become a jellyfish though.”

“Maybe with some shapeshifting magic.”

“Or a star in the sky?” he challenged.

She bit her lip and glanced up at the pretty lights that lay spread across the sky like dots on a black cloak. “Mmm, that one might be hard,’ she agreed. “Although, perhaps it depends on your definition of a star. And rockets kind of look like stars you know, when they go up. And humans ride in those, or so I hear.”

She could hear him laughing but she remained looking up. The stars were pretty tonight. She kept looking up until he took her chin gently with his fingers and guided her face down so he could kiss her.

“How do you know what a rocket looks like?” he asked her once they broke apart.

“Are you kidding? That’s half the fun of chemistry, that and making alcohol, although they didn’t explicitly teach us that but…”She trailed off as she remembered he hadn’t finished high school. “But I guess you never would have done any of that since you left school early…”

He’d been watching her with a smile on his face. He shook his head.

She continued quickly. “But they’re real easy to make… just controlled explosives really. A friend of mine used to make little ones and I got to test my firestarting range. He built it with separate compartments and I’d set them off at different altitudes.”

“While it’s up in the air?”

“Yeah. It took a bit of practice and even the last one I don’t know if it ever made it to space. We lost sight of it. But it was a lot of fun. Last I heard he was off to study rockets or computers and other nerdy stuff like that.”

“You don’t keep in contact?”

“Nah, everyone sort of drifted apart when school ended. I mean, there’s a few people who I still hang out with but it’s not quite the same. Most of the group’s left town and I’ve been focusing on helping dad with the ranch.” She shrugged and took another sip of rum.

“You miss school?” he asked.

His question surprised her and she immediately brushed it off without thinking about it. “What? No way.”

But the look he was giving her said that he thought she was bluffing.

She paused and thought about it. “I mean… I guess there are aspects I miss about it. Like I miss all the people.”

“They all went to uni?”

She shook her head. “Or traveling. One went to sorcery school.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think she’ll make it in.”

“What about you? Why didn’t you go to sorcery school or uni or traveling?” he asked.

She shook her head again. “Because those first two require being smart, and as for traveling… I dunno… I’ve kinda done a little bit with dad, but everywhere’s kinda the same you know, it just looks different. People are people no matter where they are. I guess I didn’t really get the point of going really far away to get the same experience.”

“Hmm.” He leaned himself back thoughtfully until he was lying on the ground staring up at the sky.

She took a few more sips of rum and followed his eye line skyward. She found his star in the sky, the one with the same name as him.

“Your star’s pretty bright tonight,” she commented.

“It’s actually two.”

“What?”

He propped himself up on one elbow to look at her and with a slowly growing smile replied, “Sirius, the brightest star in the sky, it’s actually two stars, continually orbiting one another, their paths intertwined, their bodies pulled together by gravity, each one completely unable to resist the other.”