Page 36 of House of Ydril

“Sure, I can’t,” I say as I throw my hands up in the air, feeling helpless for being stuck in the same conversation for the millionth time. “But is this really the time not to keep all options in mind? I mean, there are so many loose ends. We still can’t figure out why Moswen is even here, there’s a chance that my parents were involved in something potentially dangerous and I think that something potentially dangerous is happening again.”

Nuala stops for a second, making me almost topple over. She pats me on the shoulder, the look in her eyes warm and comforting.

I let out a bitter laugh and I lower my head, my eyes darting to the flier I’m gripping in my hand. The image on it sends shivers down my spine every time I see it. It’s not because it’s necessarily so gruesome. It just shows three people, one from each bloodline, fighting each other with deadly looks on their faces. But I don’t feel any more prepared for something like that than I was a month ago. There’s a chance I’ll actually die, I think to myself.

“Sorry, Nuala, I’m just under a lot of stress,” I finally say.

When I look up, she’s looking at me as if she’d like me to vent some more, but I decide I’ve already had more of that shit than the situation allows.

“Would you look at those gloomy skies?” I say, choosing to pat her on the shoulder and change the subject until we arrive at our own private training ground. “It could start raining any minute now.”

“Alright, let’s get going then.”

As soon as we get there, I pull the diary out of my bag. When I open it, Moswen appears in front of us, looking rested as usual. I know she’s not even an actual person, so I shouldn’t be jealous of her. But ever since she showed me her memory, my dreams have been plagued by nightmares involving my mother’s eyes. So yes, I’m jealous of her.

But Moswen is looking at me with visible tension in her eyes. She’s given us a quick nod and now she’s getting straight to the point. Just like she’s been doing lately. “Today we’re going to be working on your control. You’re still quite terrible at that, if I may say so.”

“Even if I told you you may not, you still would,” I reply, making a lame attempt at a joke.

She presses her lips tight and quirks an eyebrow at me. “I’m sorry,” she drawls, “would you mind refreshing my memory? When exactly is the First Round.”

“Tomorrow,” I squeeze out as I pull a face at her.

“Well then? What are you waiting for?” she asks, her arms folded and the look on her face scolding.

She’s acting as if I’m a child, which instantly makes my blood start pumping. Moswen and I, we haven’t known each other long. But she already understands me enough to appreciate exactly how determined sheer spite can make me.

I shake my head and I work on getting into the Meditative stance. I plant my feet firmly on the ground, leaving a bit of space between them. I lower my hands to my sides and I pull my head a bit downward, so I’m looking at the straw target in front of me from an angle. I have rocks laid out before me and my goal is to use them to hit the center of the target.

As Nuala takes her usual seat on one of the moss-covered graves and Moswen stands just a bit closer to where I am, I already start feeling the effects of the pose. It’s used specifically to prepare the body for channeling the flow so you’re more at one with your environment.

“Moswen,” I ask, making sure not to break the stance, “shouldn’t I be more concerned about speed than control?”

I can’t see her, but I know she’s smirking. “You’re actually wondering?”

“Yeah,” I drawl, my lips curling into a mocking smile. “Like, for when I’m actually fighting.”

“Like, I understand you.” Moswen has gotten into the habit of mocking my ‘likes’, despite the fact that they rarely even occur. “But haven’t I taught you anything?”

“Haveyouseen Sarya using her runes? How fast she is? I highly doubt that any of my opponents at the Trials will do me the favor of waiting around while I get into the right stance. That’s all I’m saying.”

“So you’d tell a child still learning to walk toconcernthemselves more with speed than control?”

I let out a sigh. “Fine. Point taken,” I say as I focus on the target before me and try to feel the rock before my feet already taking flight.

And I do manage to lift it off the ground and propel it through the air. I even manage to slam it straight into the target. But it’s way off center.

“God damn it,” I snap at myself.

“It’s okay,” I hear Moswen say. “You’re doing it.”

I just wave at the target. “That thing is huge. If I was aiming at an actual someone, the rock would end up missing them by a whole other person.”

“Maybe you’re focusing on the wrong thing,” Nuala says. “That’s what my mother used to say.”

I throw Nuala a grateful smile, but I turn to Moswen for her input.

“Try it the other way,” she says.

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