38. Ahmina
AHMINA
Even though it had left a twisted, unusual feeling in her gut, Ahmina agreed when Barrow offered to give her private Combat lessons.
She was desperate for the extra help.
The lessons began with reviewing the basics: how to position her body, bracing for a hit, balance, and stamina.
She should have been far past such a rudimentary level, but she still didn’t have the basic skills down.
She frequently fumbled her weapons and lost her balance.
Barrow suggested that they move to attack methods, which Ahmina struggled to remember, even with Barrow’s instruction.
Even after weeks of one-on-one time, she still performed poorly. She tried to remember everything Barrow said, she really did, but it was like every time she understood how to block, attack, and anticipate her opponent’s next move, it became foggy in her mind—lost in some mental abyss.
Today was no different. As Combat class finished, she waited patiently for the students to clear. Peering up at the clouds that had been creeping in all afternoon, she waited for her weekly session with Barrow to begin.
“We don’t have much time,” Barrow said, following her gaze to the sky. Rainy season in Jarrah had begun and the sky drained itself daily, flooding the ground before the thirsty earth drank it up.
“You asked for me, Professor?” Lennox jogged over to them, breaking away from the crowd of Slayers sparring across the field.
“Lennox.” Barrow slapped Lennox on the back, guiding him forward. “I need your help in training Ahmina here—you know, give her a real challenge. Show her how it’s done. Help motivate her.”
Lennox raised an eyebrow and looked at Ahmina. “Sure thing, Professor.”
Ahmina scoffed. As if she needed more motivation.
The only thing sparring with Lennox would accomplish was embarrassing her further.
She didn’t have time to argue because Barrow stepped forward and placed his hand on her waist, pulling her closer.
The contact unsettled her, and she swallowed down the lump in her throat.
“Ahmina, we’ve gone over this; your center of gravity still needs work.
” He pulled her hip, forcing her backwards against his body and she stiffened.
“If you hold it too far forward, you’re already starting your fight unbalanced.
You should have picked this up already.” He wrapped his arms around her torso, grabbing her sparring stick.
Each hand settled over hers. “Lennox, you’re up. ”
The relaxed man she had smoked with in the courtyard was nowhere to be found today.
Lennox frowned at her, disgusted, and her mind went to the worst-case scenario.
What had changed since she’d last seen him?
Maybe he realized how pathetic she was. She heard what people said about her.
She wasn’t ignorant. Gone were the days where students admired her for facing a Venom Viper; now all she heard was judgement and rumors of her failing.
Of course he wouldn’t want to be around her. Of course he would be disappointed.
His eyes traced the outline of their bodies and their hand placements, assessing the threat. Ahmina’s chest tightened.
“Now, Ahmina, when you’re facing your opponent, you want to immediately scout out their weaknesses, like we’ve talked about during our private lessons. Tell me, what are Lennox’s weaknesses?”
She could feel Barrow’s breath on her neck, his hips flush with her back, and a chill ran up her spine.
She fought the urge to squirm out of his grasp and turned instead to Lennox.
Thunder rumbled overhead and a light rain started to sprinkle, drops collecting just above his lip and on the bridge of his nose.
His usual bored expression was gone; instead, contempt dripped off him, slick black oil, settling into her lungs, suffocating her.
Goddess of the moon, he really didn’t want to be here.
She couldn’t blame him; she would have given anything not to be there herself.
His fingers flexed on his sparring stick, and he shifted on his feet slightly, strong legs steadying him.
“I don’t see any weak spots in his stance,” she said, feeling defeated. How was she honestly going to beat out the best Slayer in second year?
“And,” Barrow said, urging her to keep searching. His arms tightened just slightly, and she felt adrenaline course through her veins.
“And…” You can do this. Think. “He has no physical weaknesses, which means his are… mental?”
“Exactly.” Barrow's voice was a low rumble in her ear. Lennox’s eyes narrowed like he was about to attack at any second.
And they stood for a moment, assessing each other.
Waiting for the other to make their move.
If she didn’t infiltrate his mind with a mental weakness, and do it quickly, he would have her pinned to the ground in seconds.
“Does it bother you, Lennox?” she said quickly, trying to sound more confident than she felt.
“Does what bother me?” He looked like they were playing a game he’s won a thousand times. Like he already knew the ending.
She shouldn’t bring up the confession he told her in confidence. But her desire to win pushed her forward, and she drew her verbal weapon.
“That you’ll always be second place to—” before she finished, he attacked, and her arms moved in response under Barrow’s control.
“Good Ahmina, now block,” Barrow said, as if she had any choice in the matter.
She tried to memorize his movements, as they took shape around her body.
The way he tensed when Lennox attacked and how he shifted behind her.
But it felt useless—there were too many moves for her to keep straight in her mind.
They sparred like that for a minute, Barrow blocking all of Lennox’s advances until Lennox stepped back and dropped his stick, forcing a pause.
The rain pounded, increasing its wrath, soaking his hair and shirt.
Ahmina watched his muscles shift as he walked in a circle, hands running through his hair in frustration.
Behind her, the moisture had suctioned Barrow’s body to hers, and although the rain was cool on her bare arms, she felt like she was on fire. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the fact that she could feel Barrow’s bulge against her spine.
When she pulled her body away from him, his grip on their sparring stick tightened, caging her.
“This is what you do to me, Ahmina,” he said, his voice gravely in her ear.
Ahmina froze. The shock of his behaviour made her immobile.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to run.
She wanted to do anything. But she couldn’t get her body to move.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he peeled himself away from her. Relieved, she watched as he jogged over to the other side of the Battlegrounds, to shake of his arousal and round up a few more sticks that had been left out by students.
As her Trivium professor, Barrow held her fate in his hands.
It had been so generous of him to offer her private lessons.
It was clear to her now that he had ulterior motives.
Some sort of attraction to her—a fantasy to fulfill.
One that she did not share, not in the slightest. They were both adults.
It was fine, she told herself. But it didn’t feel fine. It felt wrong.
What choice did she have? If she rejected him, if she set a boundary, would he punish her for it? It was too risky. And she did need the extra practice. She had to keep going. At least for now.
Lennox’s hands were on the back of his head, his arms stretching out wide as he glared at her. It was similar to the odd expression he’d given her when they were in the courtyard. She still couldn’t place it, but today, the same expression was completely devoid of warmth.
“Let’s see how you do without your mentor.” He glowered as he picked up his stick.
She held hers like her life depended on it, mentally rehearsing Barrow’s previous instructions. It was useless; Lennox knocked her stick out of her hands in one swift movement. She didn’t even have time to react. But really, what did she expect?
Lennox threw his sparring stick to the ground, and stepped closer, taunting her. “Like he said, Ahmina. Find a mental weakness.”
His intense, fevered stare cut her heart open, confirming everything she feared: Lennox despised her, thought her a failure, just like everyone else.
She had been vulnerable with him and now he thought worse of her for it.
It triggered a primal urge in her to fight, to make him feel as low as she did.
The rain was in her eyelashes now, blurring her vision, and she blinked to try and clear them. Ready to fight, she unsheathed the dagger from her thigh. Lennox watched her, hands remaining at his sides, weaponless.
Grab your dagger! She screamed into the void of her mind. Was she really so easy to beat that he didn’t even need a weapon? The desire to win, to prove herself, surged through her. She dared him with her eyes to fight.
Does it bother you? That you’ll always be in Ren’s shadow?
That’s what she had tried to say, what she had barely choked out before Lennox attacked.
She had been ready to turn his confession into a weapon.
It was cruel, but Ahmina was furious, betrayed, and desperate to win—to show she deserved to be here.
But the back blow of her stifled attack had cut her too.
Lennox’s eyes searched hers, waiting for her to continue what she started, to deliver the hit. He knew where this was going.
“Grab your dagger, you idiot,” she yelled through the pouring rain, giving life to her thoughts.
“Say it!” he challenged back.
“No!” she screamed, reaching a breaking point, her heart breaking.
She couldn’t do it. “I won’t,” she whispered, mostly to herself.
She wanted to make Lennox feel as worthless as she did.
To prove to Barrow, and maybe even more importantly to herself, that she had what it took to be a Defender.
But she couldn’t bring herself to attack Lennox.
Not again. Not after he helped her when she was at her lowest. And not after he saved her life.
Most of all, even through her blinding anger, it broke her heart.
Barrow returned, his composure regained. “We’re rained out; let’s end it here,” he said, picking up the sparring sticks and jogging back toward the school. The rest of the students had already gone inside to escape the downpour, and Lennox and Ahmina were left alone on the Battlegrounds.
Leaning in close, Lennox’s deep voice was soft in her ear. “You can do better than that, no?” His eyes locked on hers. Then he turned and walked back toward the castle, abandoning her under the crying sky.
You can do better than that.
She couldn’t tell if he was referring to their fight or whatever had just happened with Barrow, so she just stood there and let the tears fall with the rain.