XI | TRAINING LESSON
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"IT'S RIDICULOUS, Khamisi. A queen?
Me?" Celvene threw her hands up with a dramatic flourish, a sharp whoosh following her words as her sword cut through the air.
The wood was unfamiliar beneath her gloves, and she found it unnerving how heavy the sword was compared to her two daggers, but it still wasn't as heavy as the Blightbearer sword.
"I can hardly remember to sweep under my wardrobe when it's dusty. Leading a kingdom would be ridiculous."
"You seem to be excited, though. Being queen could be sweet," Khamisi said, his jet black gaze following Celvene's fervent motions.
Unlike Celvene's own skin, slick with sweat, Khamisi's dark brown skin, dotted with patches of light brown, was completely dry.
He was unfazed, and Celvene was already panting like a dog ten minutes into their lesson.
It was a little embarrassing, but if she was going to become queen, she needed to be able to defend herself with something more reliable than sad excuses for daggers.
That, paired with the way Melantha had made her look like a child holding their first weapon whilst simultaneously taking their first steps, meant she needed training—and fast. If Melantha were to return to Aizasea, Celvene couldn't be caught off guard again.
"Wouldn't you be?" she asked, breathless.
Khamisi's wide shoulders dipped in a shrug.
Smile lines were etched next to his eyes from the countless times his eyes had crinkled when laughing.
A pewter flat cap, tip upwards, flattened his dark wavy hair as he shoved one hand into the pockets of his waxed cotton jacket.
"I don't think so. Leading isn't my forte.
But if you don't want to be queen, I don't think it's worth it to stress yourself out so much.
Don't pursue something you don't want. You'll be unhappy that way. "
It had taken a lot of begging on Celvene's part to convince Khamisi to help her train.
He'd said in passing that he used to be a colonel for Khezzintis, one of the other kingdoms that Oriel and Korvin also hailed from.
The kingdom had never seen the battlefield, seeing as they avoided combat.
In Celvene's short lifespan, she'd learned that the rest of Fellstride had given up fighting back against the tirade, because they knew they'd never win against a god, even if they had their own gods leading their kingdoms.
Khamisi knew how to fight, even if his typical approach to combat wasn't with swords and daggers, and Celvene needed to learn how to wield a sword.
She didn't trust Aleksandr to let her roam the castle alive.
Noriya attacking the castle was also a possibility, and when Celvene moved in, she'd be at constant threat of being ambushed.
The least she could do was learn the basics of fighting methods.
She'd sent Khamisi a letter asking for as much training as he could provide and nothing more.
He'd told her, as a precaution, he was a planner and not a fighter.
But judging by his ability to strike and dodge with ease, he did know—unless Celvene was that bad.
She breathed out an aggrieved sigh, newfound vigor guiding her sword thrusts.
And yet, even though she was confident at least one shove of her sword would strike Khamisi, he dodged each swipe with ease.
He'd demonstrated how to hold the sword, but Ilari was beginning to think she wasn't holding it right.
"You're not putting enough power into your strikes, love," he said, his unique, heavy blend of Khezzintian and Aizasean accents thick and rich.
When they'd first met, they'd bonded over the fact that they'd both moved to Aizasea against their will at a young age.
Celvene from Vosalon, and Khamisi from Khezzintis.
But she scarcely saw Khamisi, as she was forced to attend circus practices and performances every day to ensure she had enough pocket change to get her through the day.
If she wasn't going to be performing in the circus anymore, she'd be able to see a lot more of Khamisi.
Perhaps she'd be able to employ him at the castle as a colonel for their army once she managed to get the crown.
A sharp jab of pain in Celvene's abdomen snapped her out of her daze. She looked up, and Khamisi's wooden sword was resting against her stomach.
"I thought you wanted to train. Daydreaming isn't effective on the battlefield," Khamisi said, a small smile crossing his face. His bright teeth contrasted his skin like a star in the night's sky.
"I do. But it's tough when I don't know what I'm doing. Did you even use swords in the army?" she asked, readjusting her hold on her sword. No matter how she held it, it didn't feel right.
"I used them on rare occasions. But I know how to use a dagger, and a sword is essentially a giant dagger."
"That doesn't..."
"It works for me," Khamisi said. He went in for another strike, and to Celvene's surprise, she moved swiftly enough to block it—sort of.
She smacked Khamisi's sword with her own, but it didn't make much of a dent in his attack.
His sword thrust forward again, but focusing on the training didn't seem to be on his mind as he conversationally said, "You think you can give me a tour of the castle? Once you're ready to go, of course."
"I can try, but we're going to both be clueless. I haven't stepped foot in the castle yet."
Khamisi looked off into the distance. Celvene threw her sword forward, the blunt blade sliding across Khamisi's jacket. He glanced down, brows knitting. "Hey, don't play dirty!"
"Sorry." Celvene smirked, her voice shaking with laughter. "Shouldn't have been distracted. I can take you to the castle now, if you're not busy tonight. I've put off visiting for long enough. I've been sulking since the ceremony."
Truth betold, she wasn't sulking; between Korvin's "termination"—which she was beginning to think was a lax version of what he truly wanted to do to her, given what she'd seen in the past—and meeting Melantha again, Celvene had enough to satiate a lifetime of dramatics.
Adding Aleksandr to that list would just give her a headache.
Right now, the only person in the entire castle Celvene wanted to see was Oriel, and she had a feeling the sentiment probably wasn't mutual.
But Celvene needed a job now. She had to go to the castle at some point.
The night had risen, and with it, a cold nip to the still air.
The silver moon above them cast ample light onto the lands, mixing with the golden flames licking at the towering street lights lining the streets, fueled with magical fire.
The shimmer of magic above them was dull, the purple ripples barely visible in the night's frigid air.
It was the dome that protected the city from the more destructive weathers—and she supposed it also kept them safe from Noriya and its soldiers most of the time.
As part of gaining citizenship, you were branded with a small crest of the city that allowed you to move in and out of the city.
The dome was efficient in keeping outsiders out for a few minutes—but if they wanted to get in, they would have no issue figuring out a way to slip inside.
That much was obvious from Melantha's ability to sneak into Aizasea.
Such a stupid yet smart girl.
Khamisi had them train outside, as it was a rare day where the overbearing wind of Aizasea had subsided, even with a rainstorm in the forecast. Celvene didn't understand his sentiment; it was far more dangerous to be out during impending storms. Not just because of the weather, but because no one would be outside to hear a scuffle or danger if they needed help.
"I can find time in my busy schedule," Khamisi said. "You know, I have five other people lining up to have an afternoon with me. I'm a popular man."
"Popular with the ladies, too?"
"You know it," he replied, clicking his tongue and winking. He thrust his sword forward again, and when Celvene once again failed to dodge, she frowned, shoulders sagging. Khamisi was slow to remove the sword, tilting his head. "You good?"
"Yeah. Just... discouraging to not be able to do this. I'm not used to being amazing at things, but I can pick them up quicker than..." she gestured to the sword, "this. I can use my daggers. Why can I not use a sword?"
"Well, I was lying when I said a sword is a giant dagger.
They're different, and you need to treat them like they're different.
They're both weapons, but I think of swords as an extension of your arm.
You hold your daggers angled, facing away from you but following the length of your arm.
You want a sword to face the opponent, away from your arm.
Place your hands at opposite ends of the hilt and keep them open, letting your lower hand lead the blade.
" Khamisi watched as Celvene adjusted her grip, and to her surprise, it felt far more comfortable.
He nodded. "If you want more power, you close your hands.
Also, you're not going to be amazing at this immediately.
In all honesty, you probably won't be good at it at all unless you're constantly training. "
"I thought you didn't have a lot of experience with swords."
"I was lying about that too. I have a fair amount of experience. Just not as much as the other soldiers did."
"Of course you were," Celvene said, pushing the blade of the sword forward. To make me feel better. While Khamisi still dodged, it was a much closer call than she'd managed before. She refused to allow her spirits to be dampened, tightening her grip on the sword.
Khamisi went to strike her with his sword, but she stepped to the side. A small smile crossed Khamisi's face.
She steadied her hold on the sword before swiping it at Khamisi.
He stepped back, but she didn't hesitate to meet him in tandem, taking another shot at his abdomen.
While the sword was still heavy in her hands, she imagined it as an extra long extension to her arm—a part of her.
When she swung at Khamisi again, she sank the edge of the wooden blade into his side.
She felt a smile grow on her face. "You were right."
"When am I not?"
Celvene chuckled, turning the sword over in her hands. They weren't planning to train for long, so they'd be able to head to the castle soon. "Would you ever join Aizasea's military? If I become queen."
Khamisi tensed, puffing his cheeks out. "I don't know."
"I could make it so you don't have to fight, if that's what you're worried about."
"I-It's not you. Or the fighting. I just... want to leave that in the past. I didn't join the military by choice, and even if I was decent at it, it's not something I want to return to."
"Okay," Celvene said, and Khamisi's shoulders relaxed. Was he used to people pushing further than that? "You still want to go to the castle? If you don't, that's fine. I'm sure these newfound sword skills will protect me on my journey."
"You'd die, Celvene. You still need to practice. Having one training session with me where you learn how to hold a sword isn't going to do anything for you."
"Thanks for the confidence booster, Kham," Celvene replied, handing him her wooden sword.
"You're welcome. And... I'll still go to the castle. To support you, and to gawk at how huge it is. I've always dreamed of going inside."
"I've heard Virion was definitely a partier," Celvene said. "It's quite obvious from the few rooms I've seen. And it's insensitive. He put so much money into making the palace a luxury, and he said that same money didn't exist when it came to protecting the city from a war he started."
"I wonder how he was able to attract any citizens in the first place," Khamisi hummed. "Let's go. The moon is at its peak, so we'll have the most light."
"The war didn't start as soon as he founded Aizasea," said Celvene, and the two started their journey to the castle. "He probably took in the refugees that wanted to escape Noriya. I can't imagine their life is all that great."
"I mean..."
"I know someone from there. She seems miserable," Celvene said. "In terms of personality, at least. Not someone you'd want to be around for long."
"You know someone from Noriya?" Khamisi asked, the shock palpable in his voice. Celvene could detect a hint of disgust as well.
And she couldn't blame him. Most people in Aizasea had lost something, or someone, in the war.
Whether it was an estate, family member, or something as small as a beloved weapon, Celvene knew most people hated Noriya with a burning passion.
Before she'd arrived, the war had been even worse; it had improved over the three years she'd been in the city, with Noriya finally being barred from entering the city and protecting everything inside Aizasea's stone walls.
If Celvene had seen anyone but Melantha, she either would have tried to jam her dagger into their throat or shout for help.
She didn't know why she'd been so careless with Melantha, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.
And there was a glaringly obvious downside to becoming queen: while she inherited the city, she inherited all its problems, too.
She'd be tackling a war that had been raging for years.
She'd have to figure out how to solve the more minor issues that plagued the streets, like the widespread famine and the criminals running rampant.
She'd be cleaning up all the sloppy messes Virion had left for her with next to no guidance, save for Oriel, because Virion had conveniently disbanded the Royal Council a few years prior.
It would be strenuous work, but based on Virion's tenure as king, it was going to be difficult for Celvene to perform any worse than the former king had.
Celvene sighed. "I don't know when she went there, but she's there now. I actually, uh, found her yesterday. She's the reason my nose is busted up."
"Found her where?"
"In the city," Celvene said. Why had she even brought Melantha up?
"How did she get into Aizasea? Isn't the dome supposed to keep outsiders out?"
"Kham, that force field is rubbish. You know it. I know it. The entire city knows it. I'm sure Noriya knows it too, and that's how she was able to get in. I can't imagine it's too hard to bypass," she said.
"Is she a friend? If she's living in Noriya, I can't imagine she is," Khamisi said, rubbing the nape of his neck. His gaze was fixated forward, like he didn't want Celvene to see his face.
"I... I don't know," admitted Celvene. "We used to be friends, but we drifted apart, to put it kindly."
"Well, maybe she isn't there by choice. Maybe she needs help getting out of there, or she needs a push to realize she needs to leave.
And maybe that push should come from you.
You should see if you can find her again.
Maybe she'll be in the city again next week, and you'll be able to convince her to leave. "
"Yeah..." she said, and now the gears in her head were turning. "Yeah, maybe I can."
If she found Melantha again, then she could find out if Melantha was an enemy, or if she was misguided.
She'd never been evil, and Celvene doubted she'd had a drastic change of heart in the years they hadn't seen each other.
Either she'd find out that Melantha didn't want to be saved, or she could help her leave.
And either way, Celvene could put her mind to ease—it had been a raging tempest that didn't want to calm ever since she'd run into Melantha.
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