1. Macabre Marmalade (COMPLETED; EDITING)

XXIX(13.2)

"Well, I am your squire, which means apprentice knight, right? So if you are teaching me how to fight, you are my master," Mab explained his reasoning.

"Don't want to be pedantic but the correct form of address is Sir Knight or just Sir. But to get a title of the Sir your reigning monarch must bestow it upon you."

"Done, you are Bloodbeaks Knight. So I will call you Sir from now on until I get my own title," Mab concluded. Todor couldn't hold his mirth any longer and laughed out loud.

"I am going to be Bloodbeaks constable which, well yeah which isn't that different from being a Knight. I stand corrected, squire. You are right. So let's start training," he said opening the chest where he kept his wooden practice swords. He had to endure bellow of dust that attacked his nostrils before he could take two of them. Todor threw one at Mab and he caught it skillfully.

"A wooden sword?" Mab said in disbelief.

"These are called wasters. They are weighted to be a bit heavier than usual swords so that when you use the real weapon it will be even easier to use," Todor explained. "Let's go to the backyard.

Todor and Mab got outside on the fresh air behind his house.

"First, tell me what do you know about sword fighting?" Todor asked the boy.

"I watched my cousins training but they used the elven style of swordsmanship."

"Elven is it? Not Anadori?" Todor grinned.

"I like it more than Anadori, and it is a human word," Mab said grinning back.

"Look at you, human patriotism and all. But, back to swords."

"Back to swords," Mab agreed.

"I guess we will start with stances. There are many different styles and I will try to go through most of them. I have to get back into it as well, haven't picked up a sword in years." Todor took a wooden sword in his hand, letting the muscle memory guide him in a stance he practice for so long. He grabbed the hilt with both palms and leveled the waster parallel to the ground with the handle being next to his head, point towards imaginary enemies throat or head.

"This is called ox or a window, depending if you asked a German or Italian," he smiled. "I will defult with German names from now since I am used to them more."

Mab looked at Todor than repeated the stance.

"Depending if you hold your sword on the left or right side of your head, it can be the defensive or offensive stance," Todor explained. "It looks flashy and you will not just stand in this stance but it is very important to practice it. It builds muscle memory which lets you react faster."

Todor changed his stance rising his sword over his head.

"This one is called from the roof by Germans or guard of the hawk by more poetic Italians."

Mab imitated the stance perfectly.

"The third high guard is this," Todor switched position of his sword by resting the blade on his shoulder. "This is called wrath for some reason."

Mab mimicked the posture and nodded.

"I like it," he said.

"Glad you do, just don't use one stance like a dunce. Switching your guard depending on the situation and your opponent is the key. It's ok to have preferences though." He let the tip of wooden sword fall down to the ground as he loosely held to.

"Now practice those three stances and switching between them. Once you are confident that you can assume that position we can move to low guards. And don't forget that ox position can double as two different guards."

They both stood side by side and changed stances as Todor yelled their name. It was awkward at first but soon they synchronized. Both of them assuming correct posture with wooden blades moving in unison. The door to the backyard open and Cassandra walked out.

"Wow, I didn't know what to think when you two mentioned human swordsmanship. But those stances have the brutality of Morg fighting styles and elegance of knife-ears."

Mab turned and grinned at Cassandra.

"It's amazing, I didn't know I will ever learn this stuff," half-elf said happily.

"Well keep going. I am going to make that dinner I been promising. Hope I don't poison you, I am not very good at cooking," she said before ducking back inside.

They went on for half an hour or so more before Todor stopped yelling out stances.

"Alright, let's move to low guards," he proclaimed wiping the sweat from his brow. Doing this made his mental focus and his body got work out it needed. He felt better than ever before. Even better than before all this business of being transported to a future in a new world happened.

"This one they call a plow," Todor said leaning on the one leg with other being slightly bent. The sword held in front of himself with a hilt being on the level of his stomach. "This is most instinctive sword stance. Give a sword to anyone and the first thing they will do is assume something similar to this stance. And there is a reason for it, after all, it is how our bodies are built. Switch your body a bit and you got a long point guard," he demonstrated by taking different feet position and with a sword in outstretched hands instead close to his body.

"If you drop the point down like this," he moved to next stance as he made his sword swing forward, tipping towards the ground in front of himself. "You got a fool's guard. I don't know if they called it like that because only a fool would take this stance or only a fool would underestimate this stance."

Mab chuckled as he gleefully imitated Todor's movements.

"And last for today is this," he said moving the waster by his side, point of the fake sword pointing back behind his body. -"This is called near ward, or always fancifully Italians would call it, guard of the long tail."

They started practicing low guard the same way they did high guards earlier. Todor yelling the name and both of them assuming the posture that he has shown before. They went on like that for the next forty minutes before Todor stopped and turned to Mab.

"You ready to switch it up?" he asked with a smile.

"Sure thing, Sir," he ejected as fast as he could.

"Alright, now let's go with both high and low guards."

They practiced the stances until they lost track of time. Slight tiredness of muscle started to slow them down but they went on. Sweat turning their skin wet and slippery. The wooden sword with the lead core inside became heavier and heavier. Until they heard Cassandra's yell.

"Hey, noble warriors. Dinner is ready. And Irry came like half an hour ago," she said opening the glass door.

"Dinner? What happened to lunch?" Todor asked in surprise.

"You missed it by fighting air, hon," she replied with a grin.

Todor turned to Mab who was smiling as well. The duo joined Cassandra and Irry at the table, now quite aware of how ravenous they became. They joked and laughed and ate together. Everything felt stronger, tasted better, smelled finer. Todor didn't want anything to change anymore. This was the life he wanted. Surrounded by friends and with a girlfriend who can grow into something more one day. For now, everything was just fine.