Page 46 of Monsters of Air

I tried to imagine a little Philit going around fighting, but it was hard to imagine seeing as the coils of his very adult muscles were pressing against me. His forearms flexed against mine as he led me into punch after punch.

“You are doing well, both of you,” Philit said as we both looked up to Landers who was fuming, the Fae who was chuckling, and Zilon who stood still only a few feet in front of us, his face pale.

“Thank you,” Zilon said with a bit too much snarl. “Although I could use some extra instruction. If you want to come put your cock against my ass–”

Philit stepped back before Zilon could finish.

“That was great practice,” any softness in Philit’s voice had been replaced with that low grumble of his again. “But now we must refine it. It’d be a shame if you break your hand the next time you try to punch a Fae.”

That got some chuckles, even out of me. Philit came over and quickly showed me how to make a fist. It only took a moment, but it was enough to let me know where I had gone wrong when I tried to rearrange the Fae’s face. I should have used my middle and index finger knuckles, and kept my thumb over not under.

“Throw a couple at me,” Philit said, holding his hands out like he was going to block me.

“You want me to punch you?” That was not going to happen. Well, unless he actually tried to leave me on the mountain, then there were no guarantees.

“I want you to hit my palms. Use the thrust I showed you, and wrap your hand properly.” He showed me again before holding his palms up.

“Alright, if you say so…” I did what he said, throwing a punch slowly, making sure to hit his palm, but not hard enough that my fingers would snap. I was pretty sure I only tapped him.

Philit’s eyebrow raised. “You won’t hurt me. Throw everything you have in it.” Philit was serious but Landers and Zilon were chuckling, I shot them a look before turning back to Philit.

I had never been violent, but standing there in a fighting position, fists up, staring at the palm, a rush of red roamed over me. The red of Da’s blood, of the smile of the Fae as he killed him, of Landers and his reddish eyes as he mocked me. Blinding anger boiled through my veins and I threw my punch as hard as I could, connecting with his palm with a soft thud. He wrapped his hand around my fist and brought his arm back with the impact, absorbing the hit. I didn’t even feel a bit of pain in my fist.

“Fuck yeah!” It was one punch, but I was still celebrating.

“Not bad. You have strength in you.” Philit grinned, looking at his palm as if he was inspecting it for dents or something. “Not bad at all.”

He almost sounded impressed.

“Perfect. Now I can punch things.” I turned from him, punching toward Zilon who was smiling as big as Philit.

“Not yet, firecracker, one punch does not a warrior make.” Philit was back into commander mode, and I was already rounding on him. No way was I going to let him take this win from me.

“Alright, let’s punch more.” I went back into my warrior position.

“It’s not just that. If you want to throw a punch, you need to be able to dodge one too.” I didn’t like where this was going, and I really didn’t like how Philit was smiling. “Okay, Zilon. This is where you come in. I want you to try to punch her.”

“You can’t be serious.” Zilon took a step back.

Philit shrugged. “Best way to learn is to gain combat experience. The more experience the better. I was in the ring from the day I turned five.”

“And I was baling hay. Why don’t you show me more before we try to throw punches at each other's faces?” It seemed a simple enough idea, Philit looked appalled.

Neither of us moved.

“Fine,” he conceded after a minute. “Let me go through a few more moves to teach you guys, then we can get you started.”

I should have assumed that part of fight training would include fighting. But fighting the Fae, not my dragons.

Wait. No.

The dragons.

My heart thundered at the slip, my stomach twisting as I pushed it out of my mind and focused on Philit showing us more punches and now kicks. He gave us tips on how to get power behind our hits, how to make use of speed, everything he could.

After a few minutes I had to face the harsh reality that I was going to get hit. There was no escaping it. I straightened my back, mentally preparing myself. I was going to do this. I was going to fight. No matter what it took.

I followed every movement, putting as much of my strength behind it as I could, which was actually more than I expected.

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