Chapter Twenty-Six: Morning Practice
Morning song filtered through closed shutters and window panes to alight upon the ears of a deeply dreaming young woman. A tattered old hat hung upon the bed frame cast in the golden light. Sounds of an awakening city and smells of a morning breakfast crept into the resting witch’s dreams.
Fleeting things of fire and smoke that slipped between her fingers like quicksilver.
Autumn had stayed up little after her massage, almost falling asleep on the table. She had taken a dip in the pool alongside the others, but not for long. Now she awoke alongside the tired revelers. She now counted among those who would need to work during the day.
Her first attempt to venture forth from her bundle of furs was thwarted by the freeze in the air. Duskfields being so far up were subject to severely cold mornings, even with the towering walls that ringed the plateau shielding them. As she drifted back off, surrounded by warmth, a loud knocking came on her door alongside the calls from Nethlia.
“Rise and shine, Autumn! We’ve got training to do!”
Several more knocks landed upon her door, rattling the frame. Worried that either her door would buckle in or that Nethlia would awaken the other girls who presumably had been working all night, Autumn emerged from her bed and headed towards the door.
As the door opened, Nethlia was greeted by the glare of an irate witch cocooned in blankets. Silken raven hair spilled across her shoulders and around her eyes. The magical hair shampoos had kept them from tangling in her nighttime tossing and turning.
“Wuh?” was her elegant reply.
Nethlia just laughed in the face of the evil witch before her.
“Come on, get dressed. We got a lot of work to do, starting with a morning exercise.”
“But I’m a caster.”
“Yes, and you’ll be a fit caster when I’m done with you.”
Miraculously, Nethlia was able to prod the zombie-like witch into her adventuring attire without being hexed or cursed in the slightest.
The hallway outside her room was quiet and cold. The smells of meats, eggs, and baked bread from where Autumn knew the dining hall to be. Before she could make her way through to a morning breakfast, Nethlia stopped her.
Seeing her look of betrayal, Nethlia chuckled.
“If you eat now, you’ll just puke. We’ll eat after we exercise and shower.”
With one last longing look at the dining hall door, Autumn followed behind Nethlia till they ended up behind the building in a small walled courtyard. The northern half of the yard consisted of diverse flower gardens that bordered a small building that housed the latrines. The southern section where they found themselves now was dominated by a large meditative sand garden.
Autumn felt sorry for whoever’s pretty lines they were messing up.
Turning to face her, Nethlia stood firmly in place, clad in her leathers and furs.
“All right, first things first, warm-ups. Do you know proper stretches?”
Autumn nodded as a yawn cracked her jaw.
“Yeah, I know. Do I need to wear all this gear? It’s just going to get sweaty.”
Since she had joined the track and field club, they had relentlessly drilled her on the proper forms for stretching and warming up. So much so that she could probably do them in her sleep, which was handy, as she was only half awake. However, she’d never had to train in a heavy robe and armored boots before.
Nethlia nodded.
“You need to get used to wearing your full gear while training, as it’ll be what you’re wearing in a fight. If your clothes are too tight or get in the way, it’s best to find that out now, not when your life’s on the line. For now, we’ll just train without packs. We’ll work up to that later.”
Autumn supposed that made sense, so she just nodded and began her stretches. Her mind awoke slowly as her limbs worked out their kinks. Autumn winced as she bent to touch her toes, while better thanks to the massage and magical healing her body was still recovering.
Following Nethlia’s example, she began jogging around the small sand garden. As she neared her tenth lap, her breath came out in pants as her body sweated beneath her robe. It was indeed much harder than what she was used to.
“Alright, that’s enough. Walk off the next lap.”
Nethlia took a spot across from Autumn in the sandy arena as the pair recovered.
“We’ll do some mock combat to see how well you fight.”
Autumn stared dumbly at the seven-foot-tall behemoth of pure muscle. Nethlia must have outweighed Autumn’s double or even triple over. She was rather lightweight, after all.
Seeing Autumn’s hesitation, Nethlia gave her a reassuring grin. A sharp canine glinted in the morning sun.
“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. Hold up your weapons like you would in a fight.”
With Nethlia’s encouragement, Autumn raised her hands. In her prosthetic-clad right hand, she clutched her old gnarled wand pointed outward towards her imagined enemy. In her left hand, she held onto the iron knife and tucked it close to her body like a viper ready to strike.
While she had no formal martial arts training, she had a general idea of what to do.
Twisting to the side, she led with her right foot while firmly planting her left behind at a ninety-degree angle. The side profile would present a smaller target to her enemies, or at least that’s what she hoped.
Nethlia walked around Autumn’s form, taking in her stance and positioning.
“Not bad, not bad. You are leaning too far forward and you need to bend your knees and elbow slightly.”
Firm red hands guided Autumn’s body into a more comfortable position. Over a few minutes, Nethlia had Autumn shift from side to side, walking forward and backward, even jumping in random directions until she was satisfied.
“Alright, now attack me.”
Autumn paused as the words registered in her mind. An incredulous look flashed across her face.
“Excuse me?”
“I want to see how you fight. That way, we can work on your moves.”
Autumn continued to stare before glancing down at her wickedly sharp knife.
“Shouldn’t we use wooden training weapons or something?”
Nethlia smirked.
“First, I don’t want you to get used to something with the wrong weight and second, it’s cute that you think you’ll hurt me.”
Autumn clearly needed to work on her witch’s glare as it simply bounced off of Nethlia’s thick skin.
Taking a calming breath, Autumn centered herself. Violet magic pooled forth from her hat in an instant to gather within her bent wand. With and held aloft in Nethlia’s direction, Autumn approached, keeping her profile slim.
Just before Autumn entered striking distance, she unleashed her jinx.
Like a lightning bolt, the streak of terror jumped across the distance, impacting the red-skinned berserker. Her eyes dilated and her chest seized as the raw fear washed over her body and mind.
Even expecting it, Nethlia couldn’t help but flinch ever so slightly.
A grip like iron held Autumn’s hand inches away from a taut abdomen, the knife barely kissing the skin. Experience proved the victor, as despite Autumn’s magic threatening to freeze her in place, the seasoned warrior could react instinctively.
“Woo, that was a rush.” Nethlia grinned. “But you held back, you pulled your strike at the end.”
Autumn huffed.
“Well, I didn’t want to stab you.”
“And that’s a problem we’ll have to fix.”
An incredulous expression stole across Autumn’s face.
Nethlia took her place across from Autumn whilst shaking out the remnant of fear from her limbs.
“Again!”
Over the next hour, the sounds of magic and fighting filled the yard. Again and again, Autumn’s body met the sandy floor as she was worked over by Nethlia. Everything from her footwork to where she was looking was critiqued and then improved.
Autumn was primarily a ranged caster. With her ability to stun opponents for a second, she could give a frontline fighter a window of opportunity to freely devastate.
All it took to win or lose a fight was a single second of fortune.
By the time Nethlia had decided they were done for the morning, Autumn felt she had earned a fair number of new bruises. Yet the soreness and the pain felt good thanks in kind to the knowledge she had gained.
Sweat dripped down her brow amongst her plastered-down hair. As she slumped to the sandy ground, utterly exhausted, Nethlia towered above her, blocking the light. The demoness was barely breathing heavier and hadn’t even broken a sweat yet.
“Come on. By the time you take a quick shower, breakfast will be ready.”
A pained growl of a ravenous beast ripped into the calm quiet. Autumn clutched her complaining belly in embarrassment, to which Nethlia only chuckled.
After a quick shower, the pair tramped their way back through the empty halls of the bordello up to the warmth of the dining hall. Alongside the wall that divided the space from the kitchen, several tables had been arrayed and upon them lay a buffet. Autumn spied in her hunger: spiced scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, buttered and toasted slices of bread alongside grains and porridges filled with fruits.
The only other occupants in the early hours were a bright and cheerful Saphielle and an almost asleep Floriris, her head bobbing as her eyes blinked languidly.
Soon Autumn and Nethlia joined the pair with multiple plates brimming with food. Initially, Autumn had only grabbed the amount she would ordinarily eat, but Nethlia had practically doubled her portion.
She had carb-loaded for training before, but not to this extent.
“Good morning! If I knew you two were going to put on a show, I’d have woken up earlier.” Saphielle said.
Autumn gazed up at the smiling elf with a mouth half full of eggs. After swallowing, she responded.
“Gee, you’re welcome.” Autumn deadpanned, “What are you two even doing up this early? Don’t you two work in the evenings and at night?”
“We’ll, elves don’t need as much sleep as the rest of you lot and Floriris is an early bird.”
Autumn stared at the half-asleep Noctua. As she watched, Floriris tilted forwards and her face hit the table amongst a plate of cubed meat with a dull thud. A loud chirping snore issued forth as she lay there.
Saphielle laughed at the sight.
“Haha, Don’t worry about her, she’s usually drowsy when she wakes up. Plus, we both do more of the singing, poetry, and art side of the business, so we have more flexible work hours.”
“Right.”
The hall quieted down as the now three of them ate only interrupted by a snore or a chirp.
As she ate, Autumn cast her mind to her magic. Her hat felt lighter as the early morning workout had drained a fair portion of her stores. It was slowly recovering, just based upon her own stress and existential dread, but she’d need another source if she wanted to cast larger magic spells.
With one hand, she shoveled more bacon into her maw while the other unlatched the heavy Tome of Witchcraft from her new belt on her hip. Bound in iron and faded leather, it rested heavily upon the table. Whatever had once been on its cover had been worn away by time. Now that Autumn had a better grasp on the fabric of magic, she could tell that it was no mundane book. It was steeped in black magic and time.
“What’s that?” Saphielle asked as she peered at the tome.
Nethlia too peeked over at Autumn in curiosity. Although she had seen the book before, she hadn’t gotten much of a glimpse, preferring to allow the witch her privacy.
“It’s my Tome of Witchcraft. It contains spells, jinxes, and curses of the blackest craft.”
“Ooooh!”
Autumn shrugged. “I haven’t had much time to go over it. I’ve only had it a few days.”
“Oh, oh! Did you find it in that witch’s hut you were telling us about?” Saphielle exclaimed.
Nethlia to the side cocked an eyebrow in interest. Autumn had forgotten that she hadn’t told Nethlia the whole story yet. In all honesty, she simply hadn’t found the time with all the running about they had done yesterday.
Nervously, Autumn turned to her muscle-bound companion.
“I was going to tell you later, but I may as well now. Anyway, here’s an abridged version. It all started when I was abducted by the fae—”