12. Danica

Danica

12

A fter destroying yet another tree, I'm ready to collapse. Sweat drips down my back as I glare at Erik.

"Again," he repeats firmly, unmoved by my snarling.

"Give me a break!" I snap, wiping grimy strands of hair off my face. "We've been at this all day. I'm drained, Erik. We should just burn the forest down," I mutter, staring at the fallen tree. It was the fourth one in less than three hours. I am sweating, exhausted, and fucking sick of blowing up trees.

"You need to get a handle on your magic, or it will continue to control you," Erik states as if I didn't already know that. I glare at him and Faderyn before focusing back on the tree.

"Concentrate, Dani," Faderyn says.

Okay, Yoda, I am trying.

I focus, feeling the magic run through my veins, then unleash a single blast of power. The tree explodes, shards of wood flying in all directions, and Erik lets out a low sigh.

"Again," He demands. I growl and turn to look at him, but he is staring at the destroyed tree before it begins to grow another in its place.

"Maybe she needs a break?" I offer, hopeful that he will say yes.

Faderyn smirks, and Erik shakes his head. His eyes soften slightly in understanding, but resolve remains etched on his stern face. "You must persist until you harness control. Otherwise, your power owns you."

I kick a charred fragment of wood bitterly. He's right, as much as I hate admitting it. One careless outburst could kill innocents if I don't master this chaotic force.

Swallowing useless pride, I walk over to the nearby tree. Faderyn offers a sympathetic smile and the waterskin. The cool liquid soothes my raw throat.

"Perhaps a brief rest is warranted," he suggests gently, giving Erik a meaningful look.

Erik presses his mouth in a thin line before nodding. "Half an hour at most. We cannot satisfy weakness."

I stare dismally at the smoking cedar, my clumsy magic having shattered it to splinters yet again.

Before despair can sink its claws in, Erik steps forward. "Magic flows from the inner force of will and body," he says thoughtfully. "Trying to wield it through mental strain alone weakens your core strength." He gestures to the debris-strewn grove. "Clearly, a new approach is needed. I propose focusing instead on cultivating physical power and discipline."

I eye Erik dubiously, sweat still trickling down my back. "What, you saying I should hit the gym or something?"

Amusement glints in Erik's silver eyes. "Not exactly. I will teach you to harness strength already within you—speed, reflexes, intuition." He circles behind me, grasping my shoulders. "Magic is not the only weapon available in battle. And you, Little One, have fine instincts buried underneath civilized restraint."

I stiffen, my pulse quickening, as his words spark realization. "Wait—you want to train me to fight? Like, kick and punch and stuff?"

Erik smiles, a ghost of a fang showing. "Indeed. We shall transform fear into ferocity, chaos into control." His voice drops seductively. "Let the warrior awaken..."

A shiver races down my spine at Erik's sudden proximity. He's awakened something in me, alright, but it has little to do with combat.

Get it together, Dani! This is Rhyland's brother.

Clearing my throat harshly, I nod. "Right, sign me up for Fight Club 101. Maybe cool it on the whole 'tapping into my wild side' dirty talk there."

Erik looks vaguely confused by my flustered reaction, oblivious to the unintended innuendo. Faderyn pointedly examines tree branches overhead.

"Very well, let us begin lesson one—evasion," Erik says neutrally.

In a blur, his arm slices toward my skull. I jerk back instinctively, heart lurching. His palm halts inches from my nose, hung in grim promise. Message received, loud and clear.

Laughing without mirth, I force bravado to smother unease. "Geez, I guess chivalry really is dead. What happened to buying a girl dinner first before getting violent?"

Erik remains unmoved by my quips, circling with a predatory focus. "A true battle does not wait upon courtesies. Now, evade me."

He lunges again without warning. I skip left, startled by his suddenness. His fist grazes my shoulder on the second swing, making me hiss. Maybe taunting an elite vampire warrior isn't my most brilliant idea.

"Faster, Dani!" He orders, allowing me no time to breathe between strikes. I'm functioning on pure adrenaline now, ducking and dodging each narrow blow.

Shit! He's fast.

"Remember, you are smaller and quicker," Erik instructs, not winded in the least by our deadly dance. "Use precision and cunning to defeat strength."

As his palm nearly clips my ear, panic wars with determination. Adrenaline courses wildly as I avoid another of Erik's strikes. Suddenly, everything shifts—Erik's movements turn sluggish, his fist crawling through the air as if suspended in honey. A hum resonates from the top of my head. Without thinking, I slide right, watching his strained reactions lagging.

What the hell?

Time is stretching and yawning like it just rolled out of bed, and poor Erik is stuck in slow-mo. I'm spotting gaps before he's even thinking about moving, my reflexes zapping to life faster than my brain can keep up. Talk about hitting the fast-forward button—I'm suddenly in cheetah mode!

The tingling from my scalp continues as a quick side-eye, and I catch Faderyn. His eyes nearly bug out as I sidestep Erik's punches like I'm in fast-forward. Well, isn't that a 'stop and stare' moment? Apparently, I'm not your average dance partner.

File that away for later, Dani...

The world remains slowed; my motions are fluid and whip-fast. I'm landing three hits in the time it takes Erik to throw one. Out of nowhere, a barrage of combat techniques starts streaming into my mind at lightning-fast speed, downloading faster than I can grasp them. It's like my brain has suddenly become a sponge for martial prowess, soaking up every punch, kick, and parry in a rapid-fire montage of warrior wisdom. An experimental swipe sends Erik sprawling, surprise painted across his features.

As he climbs to his feet, I can't resist a cocky barb. "What's wrong, old man? Napoleon wear you out back in the day?"

Erik bares his fangs in a fearsome grin. "The cub has claws yet! Now, the true lesson begins."

He launches himself forward. I pivot right but misjudge his more extended reach. Erik's foot entangles my leg and then yanks hard. The ground rushes to meet me in a bone-jarring thud. All air explodes from my lungs.

Gasping like a beached fish, I glare up at a smirking Erik. "Dirty...move...jerkface," I wheeze.

He crosses his arms, unrepentant. "And the enemy will fight clean and fair?"

Grimacing, I stagger upright. Erik has a point—no one out there will play nice just cause I'm a girl. You can't expect gentlemanly conduct from those Shadow freaks. Setting my feet again, I give a 'come at me' gesture. "Alright, big guy, let's dance."

With a grin widening, Erik moves in a silver blur...

He strikes with blistering speed, abandoning all restraint now that my supernatural quickness stands revealed. I duck and spin desperately to avoid the barrage.

Seeing an opening, I aim a roundhouse kick at his ribs. Erik catches my leg contemptuously and uses the grip to flip me onto my back again. The air explodes from my lungs a second time.

"Predictable," Erik says. "Vary your attacks."

With a burst of agility, I execute a reverse somersault, propelling myself off the ground with my hands and gathering momentum as I flip upright, my fists at the ready. "Yeah? How's this for unpredictable?"

I charge straight at him again. Erik braces for impact, surprise flickering as I abruptly launch into a handspring over his head. My foot lashes out on the way over, catching him square in the back.

I stick the landing in time to see Erik stagger briefly. He twists to face me, chuckling. "A worthy gambit. You learn quickly."

We close the distance again, exchanging a flurry of strikes and blocks. Erik adapts to my enhanced speed and, suddenly, matrix-style fighting, his preternatural reflexes rising to meet my challenge. Though I strain furiously to land blows, few penetrate his guard.

Faderyn watches our deadly dance intently, wincing when Erik evades my crescent kick and responds with a scything sweep that drops me hard onto my back for the third time.

"She perseveres despite lacking a warrior's honed skill," he remarks. "Her spirit shows great promise with training."

I flip hastily back to my feet, sweat dripping freely into my eyes. My arms burn fiercely as I raise them again. Erik beckons, barely winded.

"Once more, Little Warrior. Your enemies will grant no respite."

Jaw clenched, I nod and step back into the fight, ignoring my body's screaming protests. The savage dance continues as the sunlight wanes...

The session ended only when I finally collapsed, too battered and exhausted to stand again.

Erik nods approvingly despite my sorry state. "Well fought. We will make a true warrior of you in time."

I stare at Erik incredulously as he declares I'm a natural fighter despite no training. "How...what...are you seeing the same fight here?" I gesture at my messy, battered state. "I just had my ass handed to me six ways to Sunday!"

Erik smiles, shaking his head. "For one utterly unfamiliar with combat, you moved extraordinarily well. Your reflexes adapt at an unnatural pace. I speak truthfully—few could match your raw potential after just one brief session."

I rake a trembling hand through my locks, my brain doing somersaults, trying to piece it all together. "So, that whole 'I turned into a human lightning bolt with ninja moves' and the wonky clock thing... do you have any genius ideas on what's up with that?"

Erik considers thoughtfully. "I believe it is your ancestral power manifesting. Magic awakening reflexes and senses that have been dormant to you."

"Huh..." I reply. "Here I thought poppin' fairy dust and glowing like Vegas was the extent of my weirdness. But I guess Chosen One DNA also chose to toss in Matrix-style bullet-dodging."

I quickly describe the odd time dilation sensation to Erik and Faderyn. Erik rubs his chin, intrigued.

"Your celestial blood perhaps blends curiously with vampiric traits gained from mating Rhyland. An unprecedented hybrid, perhaps." He says with a shrug

I throw my hands up dramatically. "Well, isn't that just peachy? So not only am I supernaturally caffeinated, but somehow the vamp juice acts like Miracle-Gro now, too?"

Erik blinks at my colorful analogies. Faderyn's mouth twitches with suppressed mirth.

"In crude terms, your assessment could hold truth," Erik allows diplomatically.

I snort, letting my aching body sink to the mossy ground again. "It's like some cheat-code plug-in modding me up lately. Next thing you know, I'll spontaneously sprout adamantium claws or start slinging force lightning..."

Erik cocks his head, frowning. "Claws would offer little tactical advantage for one of your stature... however, daggers would be promising."

Despite everything, I burst into slightly hysterical laughter at literal-minded Erik, utterly missing the comic book reference. Oh yeah—training with this guy will prove entertaining if nothing else!

As I hold my aching sides, the exhilaration of the fight fades, leaving me stunned and thoughtful. How could my untrained body move like some freakin' badass assassin all of a sudden? I glance down at my hands, shaking like I've downed a gallon of coffee, and what do I see? Not failure, not frustration—potential. It's zipping through my veins, a live wire looking for a place to ground.

Yeah, today was pretty much just a tease, a sneak peek at this snoozing powerhouse I've been lugging around without a clue. But give me a hot minute to get my hands on the reins, and I'll be slinging grade-A whoop-ass magic like it's going out of style.

Fatigue swiftly replaces adrenalized confidence, and the taxed training session catches up fast. Famished and bone-weary, I gather my things, preparing to depart the grove.

Faderyn places a steadying hand under my elbow, noticing my exhaustion. "When we return, you must eat and rest well. Even the hardiest warrior knows her limits."

Gratefully, I lean into his support, legs unsteady as we walk back toward distant campfires. Erik effortlessly shoulders the gear we brought.

"Does the mess hall have anything decent on the menu tonight?" I ask, hoping. My stomach gives an audible growl at the thought of food. Maybe mystery meat stew or stale biscuits—either works right now!

"We shall see the Huntress fed and tended properly," Erik declares staunchly. "Today's valor must be replenished."

First things first, ditch this grime couture and peel off these sweat-sodden threads.

I glance over my shoulder, offering Erik a tired but grateful smile as we slowly hike back. "Thanks for not holding back today," I tell him sincerely. "I'd probably be a smoldering crater if you coddled me with kid gloves during magic practice."

Erik returns my smile with a slight one of his own. "You possess the heart of a warrior, Little One. You needed an opportunity to test your mettle."

I take a moment and then look at them, feeling gratitude. "Seriously, though, thank you both for the crash course in butt-kicking, the pep talks, and the crazy amount of patience."

Erik clasps my shoulder, silver eyes warm with affection. "I swore an oath to Rhyland to guard you as my own blood. You are a sister to me now, Dani."

My vision goes misty as Erik calls me sister. Family —something lost yet somehow found again in this strange realm when I needed it most.

But at the word 'sister,' my heart squeezes with thoughts of my brother in my old world—Damon. Does he know what happened to me? That I vanished without a trace… Damon must be worried sick...or does he assume I am dead? Thoughts run to Emily—God, I miss her sassy ass.

Sensing my distracted mood, Erik asks gently, "Does something still trouble you, Little Huntress?"

I shake myself mentally, offering a faint smile. "I'm just missing my brother Damon. I'm wondering if I'll ever see him again."

Erik squeezes my shoulder in support. "You will."