Rescued: A Nyssara Story

Chapter 6

NYSSA: After a week of feeding Sara special healing herbs, her arm and leg are healed (for the most part) and the cut on her abdomen is a mere reddened scar. I, until yesterday, verbally and demonstratively taught Sara about basic techniques of combat. I trained her underdeveloped reflexes and coordination to an exponentially better level than what she started with.

It was yesterday when I decided she was ready to start training with a weapon. I started her off with a weapon that would be the least strenuous on her still-healing appendages: the bo staff. Its light weight, the use of two hands instead of one, and the easy push motion to block makes it arguably the best choice for her first weapon.

I have belief that within the next few days, she will be strong enough to advance into some more vigorous training. I do have high hopes for her. Whether they are out of pity or not is unbeknown to me, but I truly believe that she will be well-enough learned for my father to accept her into the League. It is not often he lets women into the League but hopefully with her hard work and dedication, she will prove her worth.

Today, my father actually pays us a visit during our training. It is completely unexpected so upon his arrival, Sara did not bow, for I have not taught her the proper League etiquette. Protectively, I step in front of Sara and bow only slightly, a gesture I pray he doesn't become offended by, for I do fear his wrath.

He raises his hand to gesture me to become eased, for I believe he recognized my fear. "Do not fret, daughter. I am here merely as an observer. So, how is your protégé coming along?"

"Very well, father. You needn't worry."

"I have yet to see her in action. In fact, she has not been formally introduced to me. Nyssa, step aside so I can meet your rescued little bird."

I do as he asks and I step to the side. He walks towards us and circles around Sara, examining her. "Ah, the bo staff. Not a common choice of weaponry around here. The lot of us prefer blades," he comments.

I speak for Sara, "I chose it as it would be the best choice to not further strain her healing arm."

"Ah, indeed. Good logic, my daughter," he says looking at Sara. "What is your name child?"

I think it odd that he would ask that ,for he should already know her name from my conversations with him.

She responds, "Sara Lance."

"Well, if you wish to join us, Sara Lance it shall be no longer. You must live under a new name. It must reflect your likeness and it shall be in our language. Nyssa will help you choose one," he turns and walks to the exit, "that is, if you pass my examination and prove that you are worthy of my time," he says then walks out of the room.

I turn to Sara, "do not let him frighten you. You are doing very well. We still have three weeks."

"I'm not frightened," she says blankly as she raises her bo staff to a fighting stance. "Let's keep working," she says with fire in her eyes.

As we lightly strike and dodge one another, I ask, "so, any thoughts as to what your League name shall be?"

"I don't know," she says more focused on the training.

"Hm," I think. "How about Al-Nnaji? 'The Survivor'?" I ask.

She seems unenthused. "Nah," she says still focused.

"Alright, what about 'Hutam Safina'?"

"That's pretty. What does it mean?"

I step back and smirk at her. "Shipwreck." 

"Oh hardy har," she says sarcastically. She puts her arms down and stops in contemplation. "What's 'Canary' in Arabic?"

"The Canary? Why would you want that for a name?"

She smiles softly. "My dad. He got me a pet canary when I was ten. I loved that thing more than anything, even though it drove the rest of my family crazy," she says smiling as she remembers. "And when I was marooned on the island for the first time, a canary landed right in front of me. It gave me a sense of hope. A sense of ease. A sense that everything would be okay," she says looking to her hands. 

I smile at her story. "Ta-er al-Sahfer. The yellow bird." I walk to her and stroke her hair once. "I suppose it does suit you with your golden hair. It would be an absolute perfect fit, however, if you were a vocalist. Do you sing?"

She chuckles. "No. I wish. My voice isn't good at all. How did you say it? The name?"

"Ta-er al-Sahfer," I say articulately.

She attempts to repeat it. "Ta-er al-Sahfer."

"Yes, very close. I must teach you Arabic. That is our primary tongue and we only speak outsider languages when we have visitors or new members."

She sighs. "Oh, great," she says slightly sarcastic.

"You will do fine," I try to assure her. "Not every member had Arabic as a language. Most had to learn it just like you."

"Do I have to learn how to write it, too? Arabic is a bunch of squiggly lines, right?"

I chuckle a bit. "I will teach you to write your name and some basic things but otherwise, no, you do not need to write. We will mostly be working on your League training."

We are then interrupted by her stomach growling for nourishment. 

She looks at me. "So when's dinner?" she asks smiling.

"I suppose we can take a break now," I say.

She and I put our weapons away and walk back to my room.

"So is it nice that you don't have to carry me around anymore?" She asks as we walk together.

"It gladdens me that you are able to walk, yes."

She chuckles. "I was starting to get used to it."

"As was I," I say as we approach the door. "So what would you like for dinner tonight?"

We walk in and she plops onto my bed, which has actually been hers for the past week. "Anything that isn't those nasty herbs you keep feeding me."

"You need those herbs to heal. You will only need them for another day or so. Do you like chicken?"

"Yes!" she exclaims excitedly.

"Then I shall make chicken!" I say, attempting to match her enthusiasm. 

As I prepare the chicken in the pot over the flame, I can feel Sara's eyes on me, but I choose to ignore them.

She breaks the silence. "So tonight, am I going to convince you to sleep in the bed instead of the floor?" she asks me jokingly. 

I smile a bit and then turn to her. "Not a chance, Ms. Lance."