Defense

Arawn was certain that this lesson was going to take the longest, but since she was likely completely defensive, it was better to start as early as possible. A few bandits would be good opponents for her in the long run.
He led her into the forest to a small clearing before severing a branch from a tree and fashioning it into the shape of a sword. It was lighter than a real sword naturally, but he added a bit of stone to it as the core of the sword to simulate the weight of a sword that she would likely be wielding.
“Here,” he said offering it to her, “We’ll start with sword work.”
Sirona looked down at the training blade with an odd sense of nostalgia. It was of a different shape than a Conna blade, but the weight and length were comparable. Her father had gifted her a training sword when she was younger after she pleaded with him to teach her swordsmanship.
A devout lady was not barred from learning to defend herself, though so much of the rest of her life was limited.
Arawn waved his hand through the air and created another sword that was a wooden replica of the sword he’d used to kill the lizard. He smiled at her.
“You’ll be practicing how to defend yourself against sword attacks. The sword I’ve given you will serve as a focus.”
“A focus?”
Arawn lifted his knee and snapped his sword in half, “Wood will do nothing against a grown man with half of the strength I used but give him bruises. Bandits have plenty of bruises. The goal is for you to learn to channel your power through it so that you can use it as a real weapon.”
Sirona swallowed as he reformed the sword and lifted his sword in a stance she didn’t recognize.
“For now, we will simply work on your ability to defend yourself.”
Sirona nodded, setting her stance and facing him.
Arawn looked at her curiously. He didn’t recognize her stance as much of anything, though he could tell that it was balanced enough to serve some purpose.
He lunged forward and gasped as she lifted her sword just enough to send his thrust off course. She slipped away from his blade and took another stance, looking at him with fierce, determined eyes.
It seemed she had some martial training. That was good. He chuckled.
“So full of surprises,” he teased, attacking again and watching the way she moved.
She was untried in battle, but her movements were smooth and steady. Even as he started to attack faster, she kept pace with him seemingly easily. He watched her power surging through her body making it easy for her to move and meet his blows.
Then, she started to attack and Arawn felt the thrum of battle in his blood. She was faster than he anticipated, narrowly striking him with her attacks and never letting up. She was a lot more aggressive of a fighter than he thought she would be.
Sirona didn’t shy away from following him across the clearing as he retreated, and she had good instincts about when to dodge a blow and when to take it on the shoulder. For a while, he lost himself in their swordplay. Laughing with her as they fought.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sparred with anyone with a sword.
Had it been Fedelm? It must have been, but so much of their sparring was done in the bedroom these days.
In terms of a purely physical battle, a completely mortal battle, she was well-equipped to defend herself.
He sent a burst of his power through the blade and turned viciously. He expected the blow to be too hard and she would be forced to let the blade go, but she met the blow, turning into the blow to meet his strike. He watched her power trying to fill the blade, but the blade snapped as he cut through it.
She stumbled from the force of it but regained her balance as he lifted the end of his blade to her throat. A flash of light filled the air where a bit of her power had taken the form of the missing sword’s end to block his blade.
“Full of surprises,” he said with a smile, lowering his blade.
The light fizzled out and she collapsed, panting.
She caught on faster than he thought she would. He waved the broken piece of her sword over to her and forced it to reattach itself to the end of her sword.
“How about a break?” Arawn asked, “And you can tell me how you came to be so skilled with a blade.”
Sirona drew her legs up against her, staring down at the wooden blade.
“My father.”
Arawn frowned, intrigued. He hadn’t expected that answer, “The duke is truly a surprising man. I would have thought you would have been raised as a princess, not a warrior.”
She chuckled, “My mother would have preferred it that way, but I asked my father to teach me.”
Sirona sighed, thinking back. Her father had been hard on her, just as hard as he was on any of his knights. She trained with them as if she was part of the fighting force despite her age. He had treated her as she’d asked.
“I wanted to prove that I could be his heir and not just his heir in name only.”
Arawn nodded, “I think your father was quite proud of you.”
Her lips twitched and her eyes turned watery, “I… hope so.”
Arawn slid closer, “Aside from swordplay, what else did he teach you?”
She laughed, “How to read and write. My mother and I never had the closest relationship. I spent a lot more time with my father.”
They went into town together to manage merchants and settle disputes of the territory. She spent all the time she didn’t have to dedicate to the cult of Anu and lessons more befitting of a lady learning everything that any heir should know.
“I was happy,” she said. “I wish… those memories didn’t have to hurt as much as they do now.”
She swallowed and wiped her eyes, “It seems like every time I even think about Gunning, I see his face.”
“His face?”
She nodded, “The Herald of Anu brought my father’s head to the estate the day he tried to arrest me and my mother for heresy.”
Arawn’s eyes widened. He was a bit skeptical, but there was nothing in her words or her aura that spoke of deceit.
She wasn’t in Anu’s back pocket.
“Blodeu and Haron killed him for heresy charges and sent the Herald to collect us, and I refused.”
She thought of her escape and smiled wryly, “I cut him with his sword and ran.”
“A rebel.”
She chuckled, “I suppose… But a Daran does not bow to tyrants, nor do we run from our fates.”
She smiled at him, “I wish that I could be calm and let it go. To move on and be grateful that I survived somehow, but I can’t.”
Her anger bubbled up as she clenched her fists, “Just the thought of them makes me want to scream. I’m so angry. I feel as though it might explode. I try not to think of them often for that reason, but it is nearly impossible not to.”
Arawn nodded, holding back a smirk. He had never imagined that Anu had created an enemy out of Sirona. He would hold on to knowledge of her mother until he absolutely needed to. He needed her anger focused on Anu and her husband.
“I am sorry about your father, Sirona,” Arawn said. “I wish there was something else to say.”
She shook her head, “Do you think wanting revenge is wrong?”
“Why do you ask?”
“It just seems like you would think so,” Sirona said, gesturing vaguely, “With the whole Arawn’s will thing.”
He chuckled, “Would I advise pining away for revenge that is far beyond your reach? Of course not. There are many other pleasures of life to enjoy, but your revenge is not out of your reach, Sirona.”
“What about peace?” Sirona asked. “I worry that maybe my revenge won’t help me. That maybe I’m just not thinking it through or I should simply be pursuing justice.”
He could hear Druid’s words in her worries. It irked him that the man had managed to have such an effect on her. She was a demigod. Why should she listen to a mortal man?
If she wanted revenge against another deity, then she should take it, but he could not tell her that. He didn’t need her to know what she truly was yet.
“Sometimes revenge is the only way to find peace.”
She looked at Arawn with wide eyes, but he saw in her gaze understanding and knew that he had set her on the course.