The Curse of the Gift

Part 16

Tayana

"Another round," Izaya repeats in a calm, even bored voice.

This is the seventh time I've heard that phrase. And if you thought I was running in circles, you'd be dead wrong. This fiend made me run and climb a small hill, which is only what it looks like when you walk up it at a steady pace. But when you climb it for the seventh time, it feels like the biggest mountain that can exist on this earth.

As it turned out, the place where they were hiding me was on a small hill. However, the entire area is semi-circularly surrounded by forest. Which creates a nice living fence against prying eyes. Because if you just pass by, you can not even notice a few lonely houses, because even the road does not lead to them. It ends as soon as the forest begins.

When I, with God's help, almost crawled to where Izaya was standing, leaning relaxed against a tree, I bent in half with a loud groan and leaned my hands on my knees. I'd been out of training for a long time, though. He pats me on the shoulder and hands me the water.

"That's good. Warm-up's over."

"Warm up?!" I almost yell, to which Izaya just smiles slyly.

I just let out another moan, and from somewhere in the bushes he pulled out two wooden swords, the same ones I used in training with Allan at the palace.

For a second I was back to the days when I didn't have to hide and fear every rustle, didn't have to worry about my friends every day. When I could, for the first time in a very long time, allow myself to be happy. My thoughts are interrupted by my friend's ringing voice.

"You seem to be much better at hand-to-hand combat than you are with knives. So today we're going to focus on handling something other than your fists," Izaya's voice was harsh and stern, and now I understood why all those young recruits, despite their fatigue, were still completing his every task. That tone made all my courage disappear.

Izaya threw me one of the swords, and I barely twisted, so that the thing wouldn't fly at my head, and caught it with my hands. To be honest, I've always found it easier to handle a small dagger, or even without one. Long swords were more of a hindrance to me. I'm not short, so I don't have much speed for short blades, but long two-handed swords aren't comfortable for me, either.

I twirled the sword in my hands a couple of times, warming my wrists. Izaya looks serious, not even a hint of the relaxed or carefree look in his eyes when I was running like a madman from the mountain and back. On the contrary, he seemed more serious, even a little thoughtful. Was he really taking me seriously? This is ridiculous.

But no sooner had I opened my mouth to make a joke in my friend's direction than he sprang from his seat, cutting the distance between us in a split second and thrusting his sword. I barely have time to block his blow, but there's a sharp pain all over my body. I pull back and make a few quick attacks, but the man deftly fends them off, and I don't even think he makes any effort to do so. But I try not to block any more of his punches, only to dodge them. After twenty minutes of this kind of catching up, I feel that my strength is running out. And now I realize that this is probably what the guy wanted. My eyes are already covered with sweat, which pours from me like a waterfall. But I keep my posture confident. I'm not going to back down.

"What is it, wormwood?" My friend's lip trembles slightly at how much he wants to laugh. And now I'm starting to get angry at him for being able to talk to me so calmly during the fight. "Are you getting tired? If you want, we can take a break."

Except that his offer is definitely not a concern for my well-being. He's doing it on purpose to make me angry.

After a brief pause of a few seconds, Izaya is the first to attack again. Only this time, instead of retreating to my left, I drop down and give him a takedown. The guy clearly wasn't expecting this, so he loses his balance for a second, but immediately puts his arm up and gets back on his feet. But the punch was strong enough to make Izaya wince a little. A little.