Sweat dripped down my brow as I hunched over, hands on my knees, catching my breath. The sun beat down on us and I’d stripped down to a sleeveless undershirt and loose pants while Preston stood in front of me, about 15 yards off, shirtless, sweat trickling down his toned and scarred body. I pushed back the pieces of hair that clung to my forehead.
“You need to focus,” Preston sternly ordered, “You moved the rocks and the branches, now you need to move the scarecrow.”
I took a deep breath and turned, focusing on the large scarecrow that had been to my left, also about 15 yards off. Preston had weighted it down with rocks, making the scarecrow about the weight of a grown woman. I focused on it and focused on the idea of it flying backwards. “Charanga!” I yelled at it. It moved back a bit, a few pieces of hay flying from it, but swayed back, it’s post still firmly planted in the ground. I screamed in frustration.
“You’re not focusing,” Preston scolded.
“I am focusing!” I yelled at him, once again moving my hair out of my face.
“If you were focusing, that scarecrow wouldn’t still be standing,” Preston harshly informed. “If that scarecrow were a Darak, you would be dead right now! Again!”
I huffed and turned to the scarecrow. “Charanga!” I yelled, focusing on it. This time it barely moved, as if a gentle breeze had picked up.
“And you’re dead!” He yelled at me, “You’re not focusing Alex! Focus!”
“It’s hard to focus when someone keeps yelling at you!” I yelled back at him.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Preston started, “Do you want quiet to practice?”
“Yes!” I yelled at him.
“Well a battlefield isn’t quiet and there’s going to be distractions!” Preston yelled.
“But in a battlefield it won’t be my first day of training!” I was getting angry.
“You don’t know that, what if they attack tonight?!” Preston yelled, “You can’t knock over a scarecrow! How do you expect to knock over a man when you can’t knock over,” he walked towards it, “This scarecrow. Again!”
The anger was building in me, “Charanga!” I yelled. It bent back but it didn’t bounce back this time.
Preston pushed it back up. “You’re dead! Again!” He yelled.
I took a deep breath, the anger and frustration building up in me, “Charanga!” I yelled, but I couldn’t think of the scarecrow, all I could think of was Preston yelling at me. Suddenly, Preston’s feet left the ground and he flew backwards across the field like he’d been hit square in the gut. My eyes widened and he jumped to his feet.
I expected anger, but instead saw the grin on his face. “Good!” he praised me, “You react to anger. You were focused on me and wanting me to stop and guess what, you knocked me back. Now learn to place that focus on whatever you want to place it on. This time, the scarecrow.”
“You made me angry on purpose?” I yelled.
“Yes,” he asserted, “Now focus that to the scarecrow.”
YOU ARE READING
The Anaki Prophecy
FantasyBook One of the Anaki Series. Alex of Gloriana is a Knight of Marida who has spent her life in search of the hooded man from her past. But while in search of him, Alex will discover her destiny and what she was always meant to find.
