What the hell just happened?
Skye follows after her charge, thoroughly puzzled as to why the bug wants to participate in combat training. Is Day assessing their strength for whomever sent her? Should she even let the woman train at all? As long as Shella allows it, she supposes it'll be alright. The small woman enjoys teaching new recruits, has done so since long before Skye came to light. Between the two of them, it should be safe enough. Besides, it'll allow her to assess Day's skills and strength.
Skye will never admit out loud, but the seeds of curiosity have sprout within. The woman's speed, along with her attitude and the ease at which she absorbs new information, would make a great addition to her specially trained unit. Yet this Daystorm isn't a rookie soldier. No, the hybrid's a stranger, one whose intentions aren't yet clear.
A group waits for their teacher's arrival in an area kept free of growth. The whispers start as soon as they spot the bug. A few grow visibly upset upon learning Daystorm will be training with them. Shella's gaze burns fiercely and she scathingly states they are welcome to leave if there are any issues.
Of course, none leave. No recruit dares slink away under Commander Skye's watch. After all, there are plenty of training partners available, Day doesn't have to be one of them. The bug settles at the edge of the group, jaw clenched tight. Several soldiers take a wide step away from her, giving Skye a glimmer of understanding as to the origins of the hybrid's attitude.
Shella warms them up through a series of drills, which Day navigates with ease. This display of athleticism leaves Sky with a growing sense of unease. The warm-ups complete, everyone pairs up to spar. Day, possibly not wishing to impose, waits for someone to approach her. A nearby group of three play a children's game to determine which one will face the bug first. The loser stands before Day with a smug expression of self-confidence.
I wouldn't underestimate this new opponent if I were you.
The haughty expression dissolves with the start of the round. Skye struggles with her dignity as her mouth visits her feet. The woman transforms into a fierce warrior, hands and feet finding their marks time and time again. Before long, Day's opponent backs away, unable to defend against her devastating flurries. Relief floods his sweat soaked features when Shella announces the end of the round. Day holds out a fist in a sign of respect, a gesture the man refuses to return.
Skye senses a shift in attitude as few brave souls cast the bug curious glances, re-analyzing the situation. Someone steps forward and touches Day's outstretched fist, actually volunteering to be her next partner. The whispers continue and Skye overhears some nasty comments. A few of the gathered trainees hush their companions.
Day has no difficulties finding partners for the next few rounds, the experienced fighters testing their mettle against her unique style. An audience gathers at the edge of the training ground, enhancing Skye's inner feelings of doom. Between the startling skills on display and the gawking onlookers, anything is possible. Yet, the worst thing to happen is Day's current partner earns a concussion after making the mistake of dropping his hands.
The man topples to the ground in a daze before pulling himself to his feet with a staggering sway. Day supports him, apologizing profusely, while Shella waves a couple of fingers in his face.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to drop those hands Mitch? Anybody with experience will take advantage of the opening." Shella searches the group of onlookers and nods to a frantic woman in pale armor. "Misty, get your mate to the healers. And skies above woman, wipe that horrified expression off your face! He'll be fine. Takes more than a hit to his hard head to keep Mitch down."
YOU ARE READING
The Paths of GreythornFantasy
The dream paths, accessed by a chosen few, reveal the most likely future following any given choice. Unfortunately for the human dreamwalker Daystorm, the decisions made by the fairies of Greythorn make her long for the simpler days of sweat-induced...