[Viskyia Crow]

She found herself back at the little clearing in the City Gardens again. Viskyia wondered again how someone like her could have developed such an acute need to improve her ability to defend herself. Would a dagger even be enough? She pulled the item in question from its sheath without looking, and practiced drawing the weapon, switching hands with it, and resheathing it once more. She’d done this routine over and over again in the last few brightening. She didn’t even have to look at the dagger anymore to do this. Viskyia looked around the little clearing. Someday she wouldn’t have to go loose herself in the city park to practice these things. Someday she’d have a house of her own, something modest, and a small little sheltered yard to practice in. The thought made her smile. She sighed, and after drawing and sheathing the dagger multiple times with both hands, she settled in to tap into her memory.

She ached all over. It was the morning after one of Master’s midnight sessions and her mind was fuzzy, her stomach twisting, and her body felt like some giant hand had stretched and snapped it like a piece of taffy. There were gruff voices outside the window, but she was having trouble focusing on them. She couldn’t remember what had happened in the middle of the darkening, but she was cold all over, and couldn’t lay there in her cot any longer without being ill. They wouldn’t expect her to work today. They never did after nights the Master did his ‘work’. She picked up her blanket, and wrapped it around her with trembling hands. Then she moved over to her work desk and slipped up on top of it so she could press her forehead against the leaded glass inlays which made up her tiny window. The cold of the glass was a relief. Grintil was down in his courtyard drilling the new recruits again. His words were muffled, but she could make them out. It was the second section of his dagger training. Viskyia closed her eyes for a moment, and then when she opened them, her vision was a bit clearer and she could actually see the men in the courtyard below. They were talking about body stance. She listened and watch them place their feet. It distracted her from her own pain, so she paid careful attention.

The garden was alive around her as Viskyia placed her feet shoulder length apart and practiced standing in a balanced collected manner. This wasn’t wholly unfamiliar to her. She had to run collected, and her body slipped into position. What was unfamiliar was
The next step. She brought her left foot forward, and leaned into it while she brought the dagger up in her right hand and stabbed forward and upwards. She looked around, blushing. This was the right way. This was what Grintil had said. Step forward, upthrust, step forward, upthrust. She brought her left hand upwards, hovering behind the pommel of the dagger, preparing to push the blade into an unseen enemy if necessary.

She was in the gardens, but in her mind, she was standing in the middle of Grintil’s guards recruits, learning dagger alongside them. It was easier for her to visualize this way. The ghostly figures her mind drew around her gave her comfort and the embarrassment disappeared. She kept repeating this movement until her ghostly tutor gave another lesson. How to step back, how to take a back stance, and how to align your feet and bend your left leg. She looked over her right shoulder, and practiced thrusting that way. It was awkward and unfamiliar. She kept switching sides, using her left hand, stepping forward with her right foot, pushing with her right hand… looking over her left shoulder, body twisted to the left, leg bent, back standing that direction. She didn’t want to be dependent upon just being right handed and using her dagger with that hand only. She wanted two hands free to use it. Possibly two hands free to use two daggers. She wanted to be as formidable as possible

She worked until she was sore, and the darkening was almost upon her. Then she slipped her dagger back into her sheath, stretched, and started a slow jog towards home. When she got home, she had a little moment of humor practicing on the stoic katta outside the shop. She thrust a make-believe dagger at him repeatedly. He never blinked, but did pause and adjust an angle of her forward step with the toe of his foot in a split second move that had her laughing in delight. She went inside and repeated it on the katta there with the corrected foot angle. It never flinched either. She grinned, and skipped back into the workroom, pleased that she'd picked up a bit more of the technique.