Hail White

Chapter 8

“Go take a shower and rest a while then we will get ready for dinner” Talión tells me and gives Erindor a frown. I just nod and head in, I don’t know if my body can take me to my room, I try anyways.

I fall asleep for a while and then I go downstairs to get dinner ready, we all have a nice quiet dinner, no one makes comments or talk about work, after I clean up and head to my room again.

It’s been 6 months now, It’s morning and I already know the drill, wake up have breakfast train help out in some of the cases, dinner, sleep repeat. We’ve had breakfast and now I’m heading to the training grounds, I fall less but it still takes me too much time to get through the course. I’m in the starting line, I step onto the training field with a mix of nerves and determination swirling in my chest. The sun was up, casting a golden haze over the obstacle course ahead. My boots hit the gravel with purpose, shoulders squared, jaw set. I jump into each post with arms wide spread managing to complete them with out falling. I wasn’t here just to prove something to others—this was for me.

Then she crawled beneath the vines not getting tangled or scraped, and she launched into action. Sprinting toward the rope, her breath quickened, heart pounding with adrenaline. Each station tested a new limit—strength, agility, focus. There were moments she stumbled: a mistimed jump, a shaky climb. But she got back up, every time. When she finished climbing the rope she was ready for the target, she aimed and fired, missed the center by a few inches.

“When you shoot do not breath” she hears grumpy Erindor say, during training, the elves pushed hard, voices sharp, but never cruel. They saw something in her—potential, fire. I trained through sweat, sore muscles, and late-night study sessions. I learned discipline, resilience, teamwork. I learned to trust herself. I did as I was told, held my breath and fired, ¡bullseye! Aimed again and fired, again right in the center, I could feel the pride in his eyes even though he never said anything. Turned around and headed to the sparring circle, held my short sword, one that now I was accustomed to, the weight did nothing to my sore arms now, I waited for the attack, the clash of steel echoed through the glade as I tightened my grip on the sword, sweat dripping from my brow despite the cool forest air, I was stubborn, and determined. Across from me stood Talion, tall and impossibly graceful, his silver hair pulled back, eyes calm and ancient. His blade moved like water, effortless and precise. He circled me with the serene confidence of someone who had fought for centuries. I sparred all ways a different team member, they said that I should learn to fight every stile. I lunged, my boots skidded slightly on the mossy earth as I aimed for his side, but he deflected my strike with a flick of his wrist, stepping aside in a motion that made it seem like he was dancing instead of fighting. But that didn’t stop me, I spun, swung again—faster this time—using every ounce of speed I’ve gained through weeks of training.

“Good,” Talion said, parrying once more. “You’re learning to listen to your instincts.”

She hated how calm he sounded. “I’d rather you be worried.”

That made him smile.

Then he attacked—swift, elegant, and unrelenting. I barely kept up, blocking one strike, dodging another. My arms ached, breath came in short gasps, but my feet held steady. This was no friendly sparring match—it was a lesson written in bruises and near-misses. They never hooded back now, even when they injured me they knew I could heal and Aeloria the healer was always around to heal what ever would take to long, but they were careful with fatal blows.

At last, I saw it. A flicker in his stance. An opening.

With a cry, I feinted left and pivoted right, blade flashing upward. Talion’s eyes widened slightly as her sword stopped an inch from his ribs.

Silence.

Then, a nod. “Very good,” he said, lowering his blade. “You may yet become more than just a student.”

I grinned, chest heaving. “Told you I’d make you work for it.”

I turned around and went for the last part of the trail the climb, when I reached the top I was heaving and grumpy Erindor is waiting there, “great now lets meditate,” he said and took a meditation position, legs crossed and arms relaxed at his sides.

“I… can’t… even… breathe… properly…” I manage to say between pants

“The most important part is to keep your emotions at bay in a battle or they will get the best of you” he tells me “now sit”

I do as I’m told and sit in the same position he is in

“Now, take a deep breath in through your nose, and slowly exhale through your mouth. Do this a few times to settle your mind and body.” He does as he is saying and I mimic him, “Focus on Your Breath, let your breathing return to its natural rhythm. Now, bring your attention to the sensation of your breath, the cool air entering your nostrils, the rise and fall of your chest or belly, the warmth of the air as you exhale” we do this a few times and I can feel my breathing starting to even out.

“Now, stay With It, when thoughts arise (and they will), don’t get frustrated. Simply notice them, then gently bring your focus back to your breath. Every time you return, you strengthen your awareness, use a Mental Anchor, something that keeps you calm, this helps keep the mind from wandering.” I immediately think of the ocean back home, and focuse on that image how the waves crash at the beach.

Its been like 10 minutes. “As you get more comfortable, you can increase it to 20 minutes or more, every time you feel you lose control, cuz in the heat of the battle you will lose it remember to breath and find your anchor.” He tells me “When you’re ready to end, slowly bring your awareness back to the body, wiggle your fingers and toes. Open your eyes softly.”

And I can see a smile on his face wich is weird on him.

Some days were harder than others. There were tears—frustration, exhaustion—but also laughter, quiet victories, and a growing confidence. By now, I’m not the same girl who had walked in, I stand taller, faster, sharper, and more confident of what I can do, of what I became, I became someone stronger.

Florians POV

I’m going crazy 6 months now, I’ve searched almost everywhere, I know she was under age that’s why she didn’t felt the bond, I didn’t want to scare her, that’s why I didn’t approach, I should have approached and said something, I even wrote a letter to the elves, but I couldn’t tell them who I was, they wouldn’t accept the job, either way they responded my letter was to vague and needed more information. I’ve got no more information! I throw a glass of fresh blood across the studio and it shattered against the wall, one of the maids immediately comes in to clean up the mess and leaves in a hurry, everyone is afraid of my father and they think I’m the same, its fine, I like to keep to my self, I’m 20 I’ve been 20 for 10 years now, since my father/sire transformed me and I hate him so much, but for now I have to play nice, my revenge will come soon, I’m the bad guy for now. I seat down at the sofa and put my hand on the bridge of my nose and close my eyes, I drift of to that image of her sitting by the lake washing her clothes, she most have been a maid at the castle, all those torn clothes and thin you could almost see slim figure under the dress she wore, but there was no black haired maid in the castle, I’ve checked, and she never came back, I went there almost everyday for over a month.