The King

1

A punch thrown in an overhand, arching motion that twists on impact and is intended to cause a cut, that was what Xenaia Firman was teaching me. She called it a 'corkscrew punch'.

"Come on, Haidee, you need to be faster," she told me, "look, you have to twist it a millisecond before impact."

I groaned in frustration, "I'm not that fast." My body was beaded with sweat and my shirt was sweaty. I breathed heavily due to the workout session that Xenaia's been putting me through.

It's been a while since we accepted her allegiance. Tony practiced with another guy who was friends with Xenaia. They told me he was doing well, but we haven't seen each other lately that I can't help but feel worried.

"You have to focus, Haidee," she said, "you want to land at least one punch at him right?"

"Yes, I do," I agreed, "but it doesn't have to be this complicated. I'm not a fighter, Xenaia, I've told you a thousand times."

She frowned, "You can't rule over a country with a mindset like that," she pulled a spare gun from her belt and tossed it to me. I caught it and stared at her in annoyance. "You have to at least know a little self-defense."

"But you already taught me basic punches!" I complained and ignored her first statement, "besides, I didn't make his eyes bruised by using my fists. I used my heels."

She looked at me exasperatedly, and sighed, "Come on, let's practice shooting."

With no room to object, I followed her to the place where she set up targets. As we walked, the people in our camp greeted us and went on their way to train. We've spent a month recruiting new members to our rebellion. We've gained more followers than I'd ever imagine. Xenaia had some connections. She got us a place to say, some food, a place to train, and clothes to wear. How she managed that, I didn't know, but one thing was for sure. She'd lead us to victory.

"Alright, Haidee," she said and pointed to a target, "that's the target."

"I can see that," I muttered and rolled my eyes.

She glared at me and pinched me, causing me to let out a short scream of pain, "Because of that, your dinner will depend on your performance. If you hit bullseye, you'll get any dish you want. But if you hit elsewhere, the quality of your food decreases. Deal?"

"What? No!" I disagreed and shook my head furiously. I wasn't confident at my skills. What if I didn't even hit the target? Will that also equal to no food at all?

"It's a deal then," she concluded with no such considerations.

I grumbled and tightened my grip on the gun. I focused my senses on the task ahead because if I didn't I might eat only stale bread. And if I eat only that, how will I get energy for this night's task?

I took a deep breath and raised my arms to point at the target. Carefully, I made sure that I'd hit bullseye. I can't tell you that I waited until the wind stopped and I positioned my wrist and hand in a certain angle because that would be a big fat lie. However, I did close one of my eyes like how I saw people in the television do. With my breathing stopped, I pulled the trigger.

My eyes closed when the bullet left the gun, a little surprised at the force. When I slowly opened my eyes, I faced the target, seeing that the bullet hit the line before the center. This brought a smile to my face. I beamed as I looked at Xenaia's expression.

Her face had turned unbelieving. Her right brow raised and her arms crossed as she stared at where I hit. She examined the thing and looked back at me still with the same impression, "Impressive, but work on your aim."