Untangling Aella

Chapter Nine

Here is the latest chapter – because a Freddo told me that I should. Go figure.

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Well, all I can say is that I began with the best intentions.

It has been over a month before my epiphany in the shower.

My, how the best laid plans can go awry!

After my renewed confidence, I had head down stairs to train. The dining area opened up to a courtyard. While the first few yards were grassed, beyond it was a clay court meant for armoured fighting. Further pass the field was an athletics track. Even though the hedges boxed my current home in, I suspected that all Amazon divisions had direct access to these facilities.

I wondered over to the small crowd of Amazons practising their hand to hand combat. Without second guessing myself I joined in. Surprisingly, Phoebe was quite spry in her manoeuvring and was easily able to restrain her sparring partner.

I partnered off with someone, but being at college and practising less often left me a little rusty.

That and my greatest fear was realised.

As the Amazon charged at me I defended myself but going up against an expert was too much for someone so out of touch. Within minutes, she had me pinned. Wrapped in an arm bar, I was forced to either tap out or break my arm.

I was like a deer in headlights. I was in so much fear for the babies that I lost all consideration for practice and thumped her.

Really hard. There’s no way was she going to injury my babies!

Forgetting the fact that I had super strength and fractured her leg.

“Hey,” Phoebe yelled out, finally taking note of the fact that I had committed a sparring faux pas. “We don’t cat fight, we practice and we restrict. We don’t flat out hit people.”

Argh! Already I was failing at becoming a competitor.

The following week, after continuously failing to fight successfully (and fairly), Androdemeia decided I would be better suited to weaponry.

Boy, was she wrong.

The strength I had gained from the twins meant that many a sword and spear I could wield, would bend lopsidedly. Like a sad banana. Or dying plan.

And so with Android Droda’s sigh, I was shuffled onto a different activity.

Perhaps athletics they thought?

Well, they thought wrong.

I had this innate aversion to spinning around in discus and shot put. Hella dizzy right there. With my strength I could throw quite far…just not in the right direction.

I was then moved on to running. Despite my small belly, I had every desire to pee while I ran so I was effectively hopeless

There was no way I was swift enough to jump over the bar on the high jump … I effectively threw myself over 10 metres from the soft landing pads and became too horrified to try it again.

I tried pole vault but every time I pegged the pole in the ground I wound up snapping it from my force or spearing it too deep into the ground.

And we all know how javelin would have went. It was like throwing a horseshoe after I had bend the javelin.

Super strength and parental fears were keeping me from being the best.

After many a dramatic sigh from Androdemeia and despite not being suited for any of the events for the upcoming tournament I had to attend a meeting.