Seven

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Song: You Can Run - Adam Jones

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The world was spinning around me. Despite laying myself down on the floor, the world eventually wouldn't stop and go back to normal. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. It would pass eventually, I just needed to keep my stomach contents down until it did.

I should have known better than to push myself so hard. Maybe Julian was right. Maybe I did need to meditate and slow down.

I hadn't pushed my body that hard in so long. It wasn't used to it.

Faerie or not, maybe I didn't heal as fast as I thought.

Even at the Keep, my food portions were smaller than they used to be. 'Work up to normal portions,' I was told.

Once the nausea subsided, I sat up again and took in my surroundings. I spent most of the morning in the gym running as fast as I could on the treadmill. I started while it was still dark outside and didn't stop until long after sunrise. I wanted to build my stamina somehow so I went back to basics.

But going back to basics wasn't really going back to basics.

And I was sure I set myself back on any little progress I could have made.

Pushing myself off the floor, I left the gym, shutting off the light of the room as I did.

I paused at the entrance hall. The doors of the study were wide open. When I had seen that man, I was sure I shut them. I tried feeling for the same energy I sensed before when I first met him but found nothing. I peaked my head inside the study and found the room was empty.

Maybe he did leave then.

I didn't question it and made my way to the kitchen instead.

The kitchen was modern with an electric stove and top of the line, brand name pots, and pans. I fished my breakfast out of the cabinets, having helped Julian put it all away before. My breakfast was small since I was unable to stomach much more, but I made sure to make a bigger portion for Julian. Judging from what he ate the day before, he probably ate like a quarterback.

And judging from his physique, he probably trained like one too.

The kitchen was in the back of Julian's home with large bay windows that bathed the entire kitchen and breakfast nook in sunlight. The windows were large. They were tall, going as high as the vaulted ceilings and down my hips. The windows encompassed my favorite part of the home, it held the entire back of the estate in its frame like a master painting.

I passed the windows and made my way to the back door to the patio where we had been training the day before. Upon opening, I froze.

Julian was training, delivering blow after blow to a still, wooden mannequin in front of him.

Training or fighting...I couldn't be sure.

Julian moved fast. His hands and arms moved quickly over the mannequin like he was practicing drills he had one time memorized. He changed. He began to put even more strength into the attacks. Suddenly, a staff appeared in his hands and what was once simple movements, escalated to full-on attacks. The mannequin didn't stand a chance. He repeated his attacks with more force every time.

I bit my lip as I watched him, worried.

Something was wrong. There was too much aggression in his attacks. He wasn't training. He was releasing his anger on the poor mannequin.

His staff broke in half in his hands but he didn't stop. Instead, he stepped forward and pressed his hand against it. As soon as he did, it exploded.

The deafening sound and force rattled the windows and doors of the patio. The foundations of the house shook beneath my feet as splintered wood rained around me.

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