THE IMMORTAL: Dance with the Dragon

4: Chores and Training

Apparently "let me sleep on it"  didn't mean just overnight. The next day was like any other ordinary  Saturday. Kalahari woke the girls up shortly after sunrise and the three  of them started on the chores for the day. Samara cleaned the floors,  Leela cleaned the bathrooms, and Kalahari did the dusting. The three of  them then cleaned all the windows, each taking a separate part of the  house. Kalahari didn't mention Danteous and the girls didn't bring him  up either, though Leela scowled most of the day and seemed to be  scrubbing the window panes a little harder than usual.

Once the house was clean, they ate a quick lunch before starting their training for the day.

Leela and Samara sparred  for half an hour. They trained in what Kalahari called "The Blue Room"  because almost everything in the room was blue from the light colored  walls, to the dark curtains, and most importantly, the huge sparring mat  that took up almost the entire floor. This room was where they did most  of their training. The girls had been sparring since Samara came to  live with Kalahari as a pre-teen; if Samara was to be honest, she found  it to be pretty boring now. She could fight Leela with her eyes closed  and she knew Leela could do the same.

She ducked a kick from  her partner and then a punch. With the next punch Leela threw, Samara  grabbed her wrist and threw her to the floor. Leela tripped Samara and  made her fall too.  They continued their fight on the floor until  finally Leela got the upper hand and pinned Samara with her arms behind  her back.

After hand-to-hand, they  trained with dull swords. Normally they only trained with blades and  magic once per week. But since the dragon attack, Kalahari had insisted  they increase their training in all areas.

"I have a feeling something big is coming," she admitted that morning.

Samara didn't say it,  but she figured Kalahari was thinking it wasn't a coincidence that  Danteous had returned so soon after an attack.

Now outside (the Blue  Room was too small for a sword fight), Leela faced Samara with her blade  raised. They stood with the heels of their boots firm in the grass and  stared at one another until Kalahari said, "GO."

Leela struck first, fast  as a viper. Samara parried, then passed back. They danced around the  yard until sweat beaded their foreheads. Kalahari watched with delight  as her two girls battled.

Samara circled Leela.  Leela matched her footsteps. Their swords were held at a long point  position. It was Samara's turn to strike. She leaped forward. Leela  pivoted, then swung back around. Samara's sword was knocked out of her  hands. She dropped to the ground and rolled to retrieve it. Rising on  one knee, she barely had enough time to bring the weapon back up in time  to clash with Leela's with a loud CLANG!

Using two hands, Samara lunged forward, using the power of her hit to help bring her back to her feet.

Leela retreated.

Samara advanced.

Their blades clashed  again. Samara made an empty fade move. Leela dodged. She was edging  closer and closer to the forest. Samara continued to strike.

Suddenly a tree was up against Leela's back and Samara had her, the tip of her sword pointed at Leela's throat.

Leela grinned. "You're getting better."

"So are you." Samara wiped her sweaty brow, then dropped her sword.

Leela put an arm around Samara's shoulder as they walked back to the house where Kalahari was watching from the wooden deck.

"You know I let you win," Leela teased.

"Sure you did." Samara laughed.

"Nicely done, girls." Kalahari smiled.

This is how it had been  for as long as Samara could remember: housework and training, since the  day she had come to live with her mother's good friend, Kalahari.

When Samara was only  three years old her mother, Marianna, had been killed by Cyril the  Black, master of the Bear Cliff Dragon Clan and high ruler of all the  dragons. Samara's mother had been part of a small group of magic users  that had gone to confront and kill Cyril—instead of killing him, they  had been led into a trap by him.

After Marianna's death  Samara's father, Samuel, had been so stricken with grief that he felt he  couldn't take care of or protect Samara. He left, leaving Samara with  her maternal grandparents, which is where she lived until she was twelve  years old.

Samara's grandfather  passed of illness when she was ten, followed by her grandmother of  natural causes not even two years later. With no other family around,  Kalahari took Samara in. No one had heard from Samuel since he left;  they didn't know where he was or if he was even still alive.

Samara had suffered many  losses already in her life, but she had always tried to keep a positive  outlook thanks to the way her grandmother and then Kalahari had raised  her.

Knowing how important  Kalahari had been to their daughter, Samara's grandparents had taken her  for weekly visits with her until they died. Samara found out later that  Kalahari had tried to talk her grandparents into letting her start  training as a young child, but her grandparents wouldn't have it; they  wanted to protect Samara from the life that had killed their daughter,  Marianna.

So she didn't begin her  training until she was almost twelve years old. She had come a long way  in those six and a half years. She could fight, she could control her  magic, and she was more mature than most her age thanks to Kalahari's  strict rules. Kalahari was a kind, caring woman, but she was also  militant with her routines. Samara knew she would thank her one day, but  she sometimes (okay, a lot of times) wished she could just live a  normal life.

After sword-training,  Kalahari told the girls to take a break to catch their breath and have a  snack. Freshly made sweet tea and apple slices were waiting for them on  the outdoor table when they made it to the deck.

Once they finished their  snack, it was time for their final task for the day: meditation.  Kalahari thought meditating after a hard round of training was the best  way to unwind.

They each went to their own spot alone to clear their minds and focus.

Leela went into the  forest as usual, Kalahari went to her bedroom, and Samara went out into  the front yard, beneath the willow tree. The tree always made her feel  calm, as if the sweeping vines cleared out the negative energy when she  sat at its roots.

The ground was still wet  from the rain so Samara brought out her yoga mat to sit on. She  unrolled it and then leaned with her back against her favorite tree.

It was unseasonably chilly in the shade. That cold front had been a strong one for so late in the spring.

Samara had barely closed  her eyes when she heard someone walking up the pathway to the front  door, the sound of boots softly hitting the stepping stones, barely  making any noise. If she hadn't been so quiet trying to concentrate, she  probably wouldn't have heard them at all.

Opening her hazel eyes,  she saw a figure in a brown hood and dark green hair sticking out from  beneath it. He stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder. A thin,  but handsome face peered cautiously around him; he hadn't seen Samara  yet.

Before he could knock on the door, Samara jumped to her feet. "Blaine!"

He jumped when she called his name, but then breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was her.

"Samara," he breathed. Then the worry returned to his face and he hissed, "Don't say my name so loudly."

"Sorry." Samara ran to  him and before he could protest, she grabbed him into a hug. He  awkwardly hugged her back, patting her shoulder. He searched the front  yard one more time and then asked where Kalahari was.

"Follow me," Samara said opening the door for them both.

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Image: Leela (if she had long hair). Credit: Enrique_Meseguer on Pixabay

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