No One

Chapter Eleven

The beauty had vanished, replaced by an elegant, soft darkness that erupted. She could barely see anything, just hints of grey skin, illuminated as they lit the torches, passing a lit one around. Their skin did not look so dark in the light, it was a lighter grey, easily mistaken for white, silver perhaps. She stayed still as the others eyed her up and down, circling around her. They all looked so different, beautiful in a way, some of them looked a little older than her, some matched Bowen's age, some looked older, some a little younger but there was one that looked much older, she would not have been surprised if he used a cane to walk but he walked up straight, without a problem with long silvery hair, cascading down his back. It was so grey, it almost matched his skin but still it looked beautiful, it brought out the colour of his big blue eyes.

"Who are you?", he asked her with a serious look on his face.

"No One," she replied quickly, her hand trembling.

"Her new identity is Merewina, to the outside she shall be my illegitimate daughter, here she shall be my apprentice."

The older man nodded, his grey hair waving. "You do realise that she shall be our first in years, the first female apprentice since we started?", he questioned.

"I am."

"Are you?", he asked her.

"Yes, I want help to take my revenge."

The man nodded once at Bowen, they exchanged a quick look and nod before the man looked back at her with an almost sympathetic look on his face. He just turned around and left, taking everyone but Bowen with him, she was not sure what that meant, if she had been accepted or rejected, if she was supposed to follow or stay behind, she could not be too sure, everything confused her. Bowen stood in front of her, she expected him to lead her out, but he just stood there, waiting until everyone had gone before he offered his signature smile.

"What?", she asked.

He did not offer an answer, he just led her into a small room. He pulled two wooden blades off the rack, chucking one to her. It slipped from her fingers, onto the ground, she quickly picked it up, quickly parrying a strong, fast blow, before she could strike back, she was parrying another and another, struggling at Bowen's strength. He offered a pleased, smug smile. In anger, she lashed back, trying to strike but he parried instantly, as if he had already worked out where she would strike and how to parry effectively, covering every part of his body, keeping his balance easily. She could not keep up, she found herself panting, sweating and eventually struggling, admitting defeat with shame and a heavy heart.

"Do not fall victim to shame, it will not help you. Everyone who comes here, fails the first time, unless their teacher is also a pupil here."

"I am your pupil?", she asked.

"Yes," he replied as he struck out at her, she parried it quickly, spinning around, only to meet his wooden sword, touching her neck. "If that were real, you would be dead. Do not waste time, allow your instincts to guide you."

She waited until he moved the wooden sword before she swung at him, hitting him across the face, it felt like a victory, but she soon paid for it for she was so delighted with herself, she had left her body open. She felt the air being bashed out of her lungs as his wooden blade rammed into them. She coughed, catching her breath as she fell forward, weakly gripping her weapon. He was too strong, far too strong, she had no hope of winning against such a man, they were not on an even playing field, he had strength she did not, yet he did not even appear to be struggling.

"Is this why you do not allow women in?", she asked seriously.

"No," he replied as he struck out at her. She parried it quickly, quicker than she had. "Good," he commented. "Again," he added.

She struck out at him, he parried easily but she just struck quicker, with some strength, enough to crack his blade and her own. She swung one last time, smashing both of them, watching them splinter as she instinctively covered her eyes. He had not, he stood completely still, his skin healing rapidly, pushing the splinters out of his skin, letting them drop onto the ground. He pulled another two off the rack, dropping the splintered mess as he chucked her another.

"Again," he ordered.