The early morning sun rose, casting shadows through the thick trees. I had been up for hours, unable to stop thinking about what would have happened if he hadn’t woken up.
What I would have done.
I stood outside of our tent, watching as the sun rose. Silence filled the forest, leaves rustling in the breeze.
The bond pulled tight as Oliver walked up behind me. Gently pulling me into his arms, he held me as I breathed in the morning air, taking in the large trees that still surrounded us.
The towering trees I had strangely come accustomed to were beginning to thin slightly, and soon we would leave them behind. The Forest of the Forgotten seemed to yawn in a way that told me it wasn’t done with us yet.
I turned in Oliver’s arms to face him, pulling my arms out to rest against his chest. “What is Paesuna supposed to be like?” I rested my chin on my hands and looked up at him.
He looked down at me for a moment, and through the bond I could feel how much he wanted to close the distance. Instead, he shrugged. “I am not sure, I’ve only heard stories. It’s a desert. I know they normally worship the Goddess Canthia, so Ami would be better to ask.”
I nodded, wishing I could stay in his arms, already missing their warmth. But we had a shard waiting, and my heart pinched tight at the thought of him being alone in a fight.
“We had better start your training,” I told him as I shifted out of his embrace.
He looked at me for a moment, the bond betraying his longing to have the moment linger. Slowly, he nodded. “Alright, let’s go train.”
We made our way to an empty clearing, and I immediately began to stretch. I had Oliver get into the four-corners stance, then grabbed a thick stick lying near a tree.
I met his eyes. “This is going to hurt, but this is how I learned to keep a solid core. Master Fynar taught me this way. You need to stay in your stance and keep your stomach tight.”
He looked at the stick warily, but nodded. “Do it.”
He took the first few hits to the stomach well. I didn’t swing as hard as Fynar did, yet through the bond, his pain from every swing radiated in my own bones.
I kept swinging. He stumbled slightly each time, but remained upright.
“I think we can take a break now,” I said breathlessly, his pain seeping through the bond.
He shook his head. “How long did Master Fynar make you do it for?”
The wind around us picked up speed, whipping at my heels. I paused, unable to meet his gaze.
“How long, Sahora?” His voice was firm.
“Until the sun went down. Then we would do it again until the next day, for weeks. Until I didn’t fall out of my stance when he hit my stomach. I wanted to learn, so I asked him to do it,” I rushed to say.
“Then do the same with me.” Oliver got back into his stance.
I shook my head. “No, that’s too much.”
“How old were you when this happened?” Oliver asked, holding his stance.
“Ten,” I breathed.
“Then let me do it now. I know what I am signing up for,” he stated stubbornly.
I hesitated, wondering why he was pushing so hard.
Gently, he put his hand on top of mine. “Because I don’t want you to carry it alone.”
Through the bond, I could feel his steadiness. He moved his hand from mine and reset into his four-corners stance, holding his core tight.
I nodded and began swinging again, still trying not to put full force behind it.
He wasn’t going to give up.