by Aaron Oster
“Well, I can’t exactly go telling you that, now can I?” Gold replied. “Let’s just say that she’s found herself in Faeland and leave it at that.”
“Is this supposed to be a warning?” Morgan asked, wondering if Loquin had joined these mysterious gods of Chaos.
Gold shrugged.
“It is whatever you think it is.”
“You’re a real asshole,” Morgan said, then turned to head out of the alley.
Gold didn’t follow.
Morgan spent the remainder of his time strolling around the shopping area. It looked mostly the same as it had when he and Sarah had been here all those years ago. The people were obviously different students, teachers, and civilians from the surrounding towns, but it was all the same layout and system. It was oddly nostalgic to be here, though the fact that he was walking these streets without Sarah left a sour taste in his mouth.
“Morgan! Look what I got!”
Morgan turned as Grace’s familiar voice called out to him from the throngs of people moving about. It didn’t take him long to spot her, her slight body forcing its way through the crowd as she made her way over. Checking the time, Morgan could see that she still had about twenty minutes left to shop, so he wondered why she was coming back to him.
“Finished shopping already?” he asked as the girl bobbed up to him, a large box propped beneath one of her arms.
“Yup!” she said, beaming up at him. “I found this amazing hair-styling kit, along with a catalog of styles from all Five Kingdoms. There’s also a special enchanted length of metal that will heat up to help curl my hair better!”
Hair was an area in which Grace and Sarah differed greatly. While Sarah had always placed her hair in a braid, Grace took the time to style and care for hers in a way that almost seemed obsessive. But everyone had their things, and Grace’s thing seemed to be her hair.
“…It also comes with a whole bunch of dyes!”
Morgan realized that Grace had been talking while he’d been lost in thought and brought his mind back to the conversation.
“Apparently, it’s a popular practice in the South, but I’d never heard of it!”
“That sounds nice,” Morgan replied, not really sure of what else to say.
“I didn’t just get it for myself, you know,” Grace continued.
“Oh?”
“Yeah! I’ve noticed your hair is seriously overgrown and could use some care,” Grace said, matter-of-factly. “I have plenty of practice, so when the day’s training is over, I thought I’d offer you a haircut.”
Morgan had to admit that he could use one. He hadn’t had a proper haircut in all his time away, and Grace did seem to know a lot about hair. It also reminded him of Sarah and how she used to do this for him. Grace’s approach was nothing like Sarah’s, though. Sarah had basically pulled a pair of scissors and ordered him to sit down.
The fact that Grace had thought of someone other than herself in this purchase, even if only a little, meant that she had a good heart, and that if he was careful, he could maintain that goodness in her.
“That sounds nice,” Morgan said. “I think I might just take you up on that offer.”
Grace’s smile grew even wider, and a happy flush came to her cheeks.
“Now, is there anything else you’d like to see, or would you like to head back now?”
“We still have fifteen minutes!” Grace exclaimed. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to waste that!”
20
Grace stood back on the training grounds once again. Although she’d been dying to try out some of the new brushes and read up on foreign styles in her new book, she’d been forced to leave the package in her room and come back out here. The day was mostly gone, and it was now just past five. She’d been secretly afraid that Morgan would be bringing her back to the Beast Zone, but when he’d brought her here, that fear had been dashed.
Instead, she now found herself facing a tall wooden post wrapped in rough blankets. Grace had never seen anything like this before, nor had she even seen the style of outfit in which she was now clothed. She was wearing wide baggy pants and a thick robe that ended at the waist. The sleeves were long and baggy as well, leaving her with an ease of movement that normally wasn’t possible in armor. Still, she found the absence of shoes to be odd.
“So, what exactly are we doing here?” she asked as Morgan appeared next to her.
He’d dropped her here with the new set of clothes and told her he’d be back in fifteen minutes. She was happy he’d give her so long to change, as the knots on the robe had been a little tricky.
“You,” Morgan said, getting down on a knee next to her and fixing a few of her sloppier knots, “are going to learn how to fight properly.”
Grace did her best not to fidget as Morgan’s deft fingers undid her poor excuses of knots, retying them correctly and pulling on them hard. The reason she felt so self-conscious was because she normally wore at least two layers in addition to her underwear. This robe was the only thing between Morgan’s hand and her skin.
Though she’d started to notice boys as more than annoying pests a bit over a year ago, this was the first time Grace was experiencing an actual crush. She was sure that when Morgan stepped back, he’d see that her cheeks were flushed a dark crimson.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” Morgan said, misunderstanding her embarrassment. “The knots are a bit complicated, so I thought it’d be easier to just do them right myself and show you how later.”
“It’s not a problem,” Grace replied, fighting to keep her voice from cracking. “What kind of robes are these anyway? I’ve never seen them before.”
“They’re from the South Kingdom,” he replied, making Grace let out an inward sigh of relief that he’d gone with the change of subject. “I came across these on a visit there and discovered that they offered the best ease of movement. They’re not practical for actual fighting, as the material is loose and can be easily snagged, but for the purposes of training, they should serve us just fine.”
Grace nodded, feeling the blood in her cheeks retreating now that Morgan had backed away.
“What kind of fighting am I learning?” she asked, eyeing the pole once again.
“The same kind I did,” Morgan said. “And we’re going to start with the first lesson: the proper stance.”
Morgan shifted his feet, placing his left forward and sweeping his right out wide at a sixty-degree angle. He then flexed his knees, straightened his back, and raised his arms. He hunched his shoulders, tucking his chin down and pulled his elbows in. All in all, Grace thought it looked a bit funny, but didn’t voice her opinion out loud.
“This is called a T-Stance. It’s the proper stance in many fighting styles, and promotes speed, accuracy, and balance. As a supermage, you must learn to become a weapon. Your strength, speed, and endurance will be many times greater than that of a normal super or mage of the same rank, so long as you put in the proper amount of work.
“Additionally, learning to fight without the use of a weapon means that no one can ever disarm you, short of killing you outright. Learning to fight this way will also sharpen your reflexes, keep you in shape, and prepare you for any situation where violence is necessary. There are a myriad of other benefits as well, but for now, we’ll focus on the ones that matter most. Now, face the pole, and take up the stance.”
Grace nodded, looking at Morgan once again to make sure she got it right. She still felt a bit ridiculous doing so, but if this was what he’d told her to do, she would do it.
“How’s this?” she asked, turning to give him a questioning look.
Morgan walked over and gave her a light shove on her shoulder. She let out a cry of surprise as she felt herself losing her balance. Her leg shot out, catching her before she could fall. She was about to pull it back, already preparing an angry retort when Morgan shoved her from the other side.
She flailed once more, her leg extending to compensate for the
loss in balance. Before she could say anything, Morgan was in front of her, his hand flashing out to tap her shoulder. Grace prepared herself to be knocked clean off her feet, but that didn’t happen.
Her shoulder swayed to one side, her upper body twisting away. Her legs remained rooted firmly in place. Morgan tapped her other shoulder, and the same thing happened.
“Good,” he said, stepping back and looking her up and down. “You may be wondering why I shoved you.”
“Um…yeah,” Grace replied, confusion overriding her annoyance.
“When someone is pushed, their body automatically responds, positioning itself into the best center of balance. After I shoved you a couple of times, your body adjusted, and you are now perfectly balanced.”
Grace looked down at the placement of her feet and how they were positioned.
“Is that why I didn’t stumble when you pushed my shoulders?”
“Yes,” Morgan answered. “Now, raise your arms like I showed you.”
Grace did as she was told this time, and Morgan circled her once again. He tapped at her ribs, which she responded to by tucking her elbows in tighter. He tapped her forehead, motioning for her to raise her arms a bit more. He then stood back once again, giving her a once-over and nodding in satisfaction.
“Good, you can relax now.”
Grace let out a long breath, relaxing and allowing her arms to drop.
“Now, get into the stance again,” Morgan commanded.
She knew better than to ask questions when he gave an order by now, so she did as she was told. Morgan moved around her once again, pushing and prodding until she’d gotten it right, then told her to relax again. This continued for the next thirty minutes, by the end of which, she felt ready to scream.
This was so boring! Still, she didn’t dare voice her complaints out loud, for fear of having Morgan make her do some terrible and painful exercise.
“I think that’s enough of that for today,” Morgan said once she relaxed again.
Before Grace could sigh in relief, Morgan barked out another order.
“T-Stance!”
“But I thought you said we were done!” Grace whined.
Morgan’s eyes narrowed just a hair, and she quickly snapped to it, getting into the T-Stance without another word.
“Now that you know how to stand, sort of, you’re going to learn how to move,” Morgan said, standing before her and mirroring her stance.
“When moving in this stance, you always want to ensure you maintain your balance. So, when stepping forward, lead with the front, allowing the back foot to slide into position, only after your foot is planted.”
He showed the same step several more times, before gesturing for her to do it. Hiding her annoyance, Grace did as she was told, stepping forward and sliding her back leg into place. Morgan then walked over and gave her a shove. She stumbled and had to compensate.
“The trick to this is to maintain your balance when re-setting,” Morgan instructed. “Again!”
This was how the rest of the day was spent, with Morgan barking orders, telling her to move forward, backward, to the sides, at angles. It was all very confusing and not the least bit interesting. Grace continued to do as she was told, saving her questions for when their training was over.
She was surprised to find it physically draining, despite the fact she wasn’t running or doing any hard exercise. By the time Morgan called a halt, she was covered in a sheen of sweat, and her hair felt like it could use another wash.
“What’s… the point of all this?” she asked, leaning against the pole as she caught her breath.
“Learning the correct way to move is one of the most important aspects of fighting,” Morgan replied. “When I first started learning, my teacher began with me being stationary, then adding movement. That is a waste of time. While easier to learn, it is far less practical.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to learn the easier version first?” Grace asked.
“I see that you still don’t grasp the difference, so I’ll demonstrate. If you’d be so kind as to move.”
Grace looked at the wrapped pole, shrugged, and moved out of the way. In truth, she was interested to see what he could do. She’d yet to see him throw so much as a single punch in all their time together. Being knocked out hardly counted, as she hadn’t even seen it coming. This was a rare learning opportunity.
Morgan planted his feet before the pole, raising his arms in the same way he’d been showing her all day.
“When throwing a proper cross punch, it’s important to twist your hips on the extension,” Morgan said, demonstrating the punch in slow motion. “I’ll only show it once so you can understand the concept behind what I’m doing. The lesson on punching will come later in the week.”
Grace watched him slowly extend his arm, twisting his hips and shoulder on the extension, as well as pivoting his back foot on the ball before coming back to his stance.
“Now, if I punch from here, the blow will be solid,” Morgan said.
Grace watched him perform the punch much faster this time. She was still able to follow the movement and figured that he was still slowing it down so she could learn. That guess was cemented into fact when Morgan’s closed fist connected with the pole with a muffled whump. The fact that the pole didn’t shatter under the attack meant that he really wasn’t using a lot of power.
“A punch like that would be enough to cause some damage with your level of Strength,” Morgan continued. “Your opponent’s head would be thrown back, their nose would be broken, and they’d likely suffer a concussion.”
“That punch didn’t look like it hit all that hard,” she said, brows wrinkling in confusion.
“That is one of the secrets of hand to hand fighting,” Morgan replied with a smile. “While it may not look that dangerous, I can assure you it is. Now, allow me to demonstrate what would happen if you were to take just a single step forward before throwing that exact same punch.”
Grace watched Morgan take a single fluid step back, his form flawless and even. It made her envious, as her performance all day had been shaky at best. When Morgan stepped forward and delivered the punch, Grace expected the pole to shake a bit, maybe sway back. What she hadn’t expected was for the punch to shatter the post, cracking it clean down its center and sending it flying a couple of feet before hitting the ground.
“Come on!” she exclaimed. “There’s no way I could do that with a single punch!”
Morgan stood back and, to her surprise, nodded in agreement.
“That much is true, but not for the reasons you might think. Now, I know girls don’t like people guessing their weight, but you’re quite slim, so judging by the way you move and your body proportions, I’d place you at around ninety pounds.”
Grace felt her cheeks immediately flush, whether in anger, embarrassment, or a mixture of the two, she couldn’t be sure. Morgan was dead-on about her weight. Not that she was going to tell him that, but he had also called her slim, which was a compliment. She was conflicted, so she decided that the best course of action was to play it cool.
“What does weight have to do with anything?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Weight is the reason I was able to shatter that pole, while you would likely just make it shift a bit,” Morgan replied. “I’ll tell you what. Since I guessed your weight, why don’t you take a crack at mine? How much do you think I weigh?”
Grace was still very confused about this line of questioning, but the excuse to openly stare at Morgan under the guise of guessing his weight was too good an opportunity to pass up. Her eyes roamed over his body, taking in his muscular, lean frame. He was tall, just about six feet, and the amount of muscle he had packed on was impressive. Still, his body was too lean for him to weigh more than two-hundred pounds.
“I’m going to guess that you weigh just under two-hundred pounds,” Grace finally said.
Morgan grinned, as though he were expecting her to say j
ust that.
“Try four,” he said.
“You’re telling me that you weigh four-hundred pounds?” Grace asked with a raised eyebrow. “There’s no way in hell you can weigh that much.”
Morgan spread his arms.
“Why don’t you try lifting me? With your Strength, it should be doable. If I’m two-hundred pounds, that is.”
Grace immediately shook her head. Staring at him was one thing, grabbing him and trying to lift him would be too much for her to handle.
“I’ll take your word for it, though you still haven’t explained what this has to do with you shattering the pole, while I couldn’t.”
“Ah, that’s right. When it comes to fighting, the amount of weight you can put behind a punch determines how much power there is at the point of impact. So, from a standstill, whose punch would be stronger? A punch from someone weighing ninety pounds, or someone weighing four hundred?”
“When you put it that way, it makes a lot more sense,” Grace replied sheepishly.
She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t seen it before.
“And the reason why the punch was stronger when I stepped in…?” Morgan continued.
“Was because of the momentum behind it,” Grace finished with a grin.
“Exactly,” Morgan said with a smile of his own. “I’m glad to see you using your brain. Now, come on. It’s late, and you still owe me that haircut.”
Despite the oncoming nausea that Grace knew she’d be experiencing, she felt a huge sense of pride and accomplishment. She’d done so much, worked so hard, and most importantly, had pushed on, despite her fears. She was sure she’d be facing another beast before long, but the next time she did, it would be with the knowledge accrued from Morgan’s teachings.
21
“So, I take it she’s done well?” Katherine asked.
“Despite my misgivings at the beginning of the week, I must admit that I’m impressed,” Morgan said.
He resisted the urge to reach up and smooth back hair that was no longer there. Grace had done a very good job in cutting it, shearing the sides down short while leaving the hair on top a little longer. She’d also cut his hair close to his neck in the back so that it no longer swayed when he moved his head.
