Chapter 10: The Art of Lightning
The sun's beginning to dip behind the distant hills as I step onto the training ground. The place smells of sweat, dirt, and iron—a scent I've come to associate with hard work and even harder lessons. Rune's already here, standing still, arms crossed, looking at me with that same unbothered expression. He's a man of few words, but when he speaks, it's like the world has just handed you a challenge. I'm ready for it.
I crack my neck and flex my hands. The anticipation feels good. Today's the day. Today, Rune teaches me his martial art.
"You know," I say casually, adjusting the grip on my sword, "if you're expecting me to beg for this, you're gonna be disappointed."
Rune shoots me a sideways glance, and I can see that small, rare smile tugging at his lips. It's more of a smirk, really—like he's enjoying the fact that I'm always willing to speak my mind. I can tell he respects that, even if he doesn't say it.
"Your mouth might get you in trouble one day," Rune mutters, then shrugs. "Or maybe it'll keep you alive. Hard to say with you."
I snort. "Maybe both."
"Let's see if you can back it up."
Before I can even blink, Rune's in front of me. His body's like a coil, ready to snap, and the air around us shifts. Lightning crackles just under the surface of his skin, but it's controlled. Calculated. He's done this a thousand times, probably more. I'm still figuring out how not to trip over my feet, but that doesn't matter now.
He throws a punch, fast and sharp. I don't even think—I just move.
I'm quick enough to duck, but his fist grazes my cheek, and the sting of it almost throws me off balance. Almost. But I'm not stupid. I don't react with fear. I react with my own kind of calm, the kind that doesn't let anything get to me.
I pivot, swinging my sword toward his side. Rune sidesteps like it's nothing, moving with a fluidity that I can't even begin to copy. Damn, he's good.
"Not bad," he says, his voice almost like a taunt. "You've got the basics down. But this isn't just about speed. It's about timing. Precision."
"Then you'll be waiting a while," I reply with a grin, shaking my head. "Because I'm all about the speed."
Rune's eyes narrow slightly, then he's on me again, faster than I can react. His movements are a blur, his strikes not just about power, but about reading me, predicting my every move before I even make it. It's like he knows what I'll do before I even think about it.
And that's when I realize something.
He's not just trying to hit me. He's trying to make me react the way he wants me to.
My hands grip the hilt of the sword tighter. I can't let him control the fight.
He throws a kick toward my stomach. I catch it with my sword. The impact sends a shockwave through my body, but I don't flinch. I'm in control now.
I take a step forward, pushing myself closer to him, forcing him to deal with me at my range. His eyes flicker with surprise—didn't expect that, huh?
I use my sword to deflect another punch, then twist, letting my body flow with the movement. Rune's face is unreadable, but there's something in the way his posture shifts, like he's interested. He expected me to fall apart. Instead, I'm standing here, matching him.
"You've got guts," Rune says after a few more exchanges, his voice still calm, but with a note of approval in it. "I'll give you that."
"Yeah," I reply, a smile tugging at my lips. "I don't do fear."
Rune stops, stepping back. He doesn't seem tired, but I know he's been testing me, seeing how far I'll push myself. He's looking for something in me—something more than just strength.
"You move like you've been fighting your whole life," he says. "But what about your mind? You're quick, sure. But can you think on your feet?"
I tilt my head, stepping back. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're too impulsive," Rune replies. "And impulsive gets you killed. Control isn't just about being fast or strong. It's about making the right decision at the right time. Not letting your emotions control your movements."
I almost laugh. "Is that why you don't ever smile?"
Rune's smirk reappears, but it's gone just as quickly as it came. "Something like that."
There's a brief silence. The sun's almost set now, the orange light reflecting off the sweat on my skin. Rune eyes me, waiting.
"Think about it," he says finally. "I'll see if you can actually learn something. Next time we fight, I want you to control yourself. Don't let me decide what you do."
I nod, even though I know he's right. I've been acting on instinct this whole time, but if I really want to survive, I'll have to learn to control that. Control my mind.
I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. "I can handle it. Just wait and see."
Rune turns, heading toward the edge of the field. "That's what I'm waiting for."
As I stand there, catching my breath, I realize that he's not just teaching me how to fight. He's teaching me how to think. To be more than just a street kid with a sword. To become someone who can face anything—and win.
I'm not quite there yet. But I will be.
And that thought, more than anything, keeps me going.