I laid back against the grass and stared up at the bright blue and seemingly endless sky. I was completely out of breath. I closed my eyes and let myself relax just for a moment. I knew Steele would have me at it again in just a moment, but I decided to enjoy this moment with every fiber of my being.
The air has turned from the burning of the warm months to those of change. Already, the leaves started to fade from green to dozens of other shades of reds, browns, and golden oranges. The promise of the cold months was on the horizon. Still, it didn't stop the blazing sun from baking the ground, and me with it.
As I laid on the ground, I felt my muscles twitching and aching, the pain washing over me like waves in the ocean. One moment, it was a dull ache, and the next it might be a harsh pinch or throb.
Still, I would not change it for anything.
For these past few moons, Steele has been putting me under every test imaginable. If I was not learning common script and letters with Mehlein, I was training and learning with Steele. His knowledge of practically everything under the sun made him such an asset to me. I felt like I could spend a thousand years with him and still not know everything there was to know.
We started with different histories of the land and significant events in history, both from his land and my own. He taught me about some of the great wars as well as some of the natural disasters that occurred, as well as how to combat the tragedy and restore balance.
It was something he was very insistent and passionate about – balance.
He talked about how there was a give and take in this and every world beyond the stars, which really made me think about what else could be out there. The possibility of worlds like ours but so different at the same time was mind numbing, and I loved it.
Next, he taught me about strategies using games and scenarios. I knew it was to grow my mind, but this is something I struggled with quite a bit when he first introduced the topic to me. The games were simple, but recently he started to make them harder. The games consisted of certain amounts of supplies and soldiers. I had to move them from one point to another without casualties, minimal supply use, and as fast as possible.
Over time, he would throw in different scenarios and tragedies. There would be natural disasters and realistic injuries I had to learn how to deal with. Sometimes, I had to divide my forces, and other times I needed to keep everyone together. I wasn't always successful, especially in the beginning. However, a few moons of practicing and working through the different scenarios made the games a little easier. I was able to see patterns in how Steele worked, and I used them to my advantage.
When he realized I had picked up the patterns, he changed them, sadly leaving me in defeat once again – but I wasn't going to give up.
We had a game later in the afternoon tomorrow, but now was not the time to worry about that. Right now, I focused on breathing and relaxing my body, forcing my mind to function. I knew that Steele would not let me rest for very long, but just because my body needed a rest didn't mean that my mind needed a break.
Mentally, I was primed and ready to charge forward in my learning.
So, as I laid there, I went over the words I knew from Steele's language. He had been teaching me intermittently, but the list of words I knew had increased tremendously.
Viyoo-en rhonor meant are you alright. Please was vandri. Mother was naterma. Thank you was bromidian. Stop was zhanth. Apologies, or I'm sorry, was ptiedier. There were other things like counting that I had gotten very good at, but only up to nineteen. The twenties were a bit harder for me for whatever reason. I needed to practice them more. I was nowhere near as good as my momma and I could only hope to catch up to her sooner than later, but, for now, I knew what I knew and that was enough.
After a few minutes longer, I heard Steele clear his throat, which was a clear indicator that it was time to get back to work.
"Terrilyn? Do you want to continue?" asked Steele. I heaved another breath before glancing up into Steele's violet eyes. Something about them held a not-so-subtle amusement at my exhaustion. It took effort despite my protesting muscles, but I managed to get to my feet and once again took the correct stance in front of Steele, placing my right foot back and making sure most of my weight was on it. I kept my hands up, fists clenched the way he told me and didn't tuck my thumbs in this time.
Steele leaned forward ever so slightly, his torso looming over me a bit, as he evaluated my form. His finger approached, but I didn't shy away. I welcomed it. He carefully prodded my back, checking to see if my stance was able to withstand a gentle push from the tip of his finger. I could tell he needed a moment, and so I held that position.
Despite hours of training and the exhaustion of my body, I felt completely sound and determined. I was not going to bend or break - not after today. Another minute of evaluating and then Steele leaned back to his sitting position as I stood on the dirt mound.
"Good," he complemented. "Now. First position."
I fell into first position, letting my left foot sweep back as I kicked and lashed out with a back handed fist.
"Switch."
The simple command made me spin on my heel to face behind me in the blink of an eye.
"Good. First, then third, then nine."
The sequence was the one that started the fifteen-stance exercise that wore me out.
I spun on my heel once more, leaning on my back left while lashing out with a back fist from my closed right hand. I then lunged forward, punching out with my right hand followed by a kick. Ninth was tricky, but I was determined to get it this time. I spun on my heel and swung my left with a roundhouse kick. This time, I managed to stick the landing, but I was far from done.
Steele continued increasing the movements by two until I was up to seventeen when, as I sprung forward for a high front kick, I lost my balance and tripped down the hill, skidding my knees against the grass.
I laid there, once again, and stared at the sky.
I took a few deep breaths of the clean, wildflower smelling air, feeling the way my heart pounded and raced. The sequences were getting harder and faster, and I was definitely feeling each and every practice session that Steele and I had together.
After hearing Steele's thoughtful chuckle, I saw his hand lower and rest right beside me.
"Care for a hand up?" Steele asked. I could hear the thoughtful caring as well as the amusement in his aged voice, and I welcomed it. Still, I was not ready to get back to it. I let out a puff of air and let it blow away one of the strands of my auburn hair that slipped out of the ponytail I put it in away from my face.
"If I sit up, do we have to get back to it immediately?" I asked. It felt like I needed to use all of the energy I had left to call up to Steele, making sure I spoke clearly. I knew in that moment that Steele felt completely conflicted. I saw the amusement and firm hand rise to tell me no, but the softer, gentler side rose up to meet it, and won.
"Very well. You do not need to start immediately. We can talk instead," said Steele. Satisfied, I lifted my throbbing arm and rested my hand against his. I could feel his pulse against my fingertips, and I let his warmth, not the warmth of the day, spread through me. It somehow soothed my muscles and gave me new energy.
At least, it gave me enough energy to pull myself up onto his palm and lay with my back pressed against the side of his hand. He kept his hand there for me, unwavering, as I continued to catch my breath.
I looked back up into his features after a minute, my breath and heart finally under my control once again and nodded.
"So, what do you want to talk about?" I asked. I didn't want there to be too much silence between us - not when he had so many things he needed to teach me.
"Well," said Steele. He pulled his lips into an inquisitive purse off to the side as if in suspicious disbelief while his brow furrowed in contemplation. From where I was, I could see every all of the different smatterings of lightening dark blond and gray in his facial hair. "You could choose the topic, or I could talk of… eh… koonyardo vi… weak points on hands and limbs if you are in a tight spot."
I felt excitement at that second option.
"Could you talk about the pressure points please?" I asked, remembering my manners this time. The last time I asked him to talk about something, I all but demanded it, shouting 'that one that one' and interrupting the other options. Steele smiled warmly, but I saw the glint of mischief in his eyes.
"Say it in my tongue, and perhaps I will," he stated. I knew he was going to tell me regardless, but it was the true effort he wanted to see out of me.
I liked that about him.
He didn't care if I was right or perfect. He just asked that I try with as much effort as I could.
Sadly, my effort was going to be very little. Some of the words he wanted me to use were ones I just memorized, and I just knew that I was going to get the pronunciation wrong in so many ways.
"Ooofff… alright," I said as I conjured the words from my currently muddled mind. "Sa… wait… no… um… oh, yeah. That's it. Vandri, sabon… ke…."
Steele must've seen the bit of panic in my eyes and the hesitation in my stuttering words and took pity on my floundering because he simply chuckled thoughtfully, as a wise grandfather would do, before he stated the phrase in his language.
"Vandri, sabon ke'tzellel rraha snikrik tab-va f-veryon," stated Steele, making sure to speak slowly and deliberately so that I could hear the pronunciation of each and every word.
"Vandri, sabon ke'tzellel rraha snikrik tab-va f-veryon?" I bit my lip and hoped that I had managed to do his language some kind of justice. Steele made his language sound so beautiful and effortless. Even when momma said it, she seemed so certain and was able to spit out the words with ease. She had spent more time with Steele, and I had a lot to catch up on, which is exactly what this exchange taught me.
Steele smiled and nodded.
"Very good," he said. I felt my heart swell with joy as I saw the twinkle of pride in Steele's violet eyes. "Do not forget to roll or flip the 'r' sound against your tongue and keep the 'n' sound softer to where you almost do not hear it."
"I won't forget," I said firmly, repeating the words and rules over and over in my head and softly out loud so I committed it to memory. Steele smiled proudly again and waited patiently to see my eyes meet his before continuing.
"To do this, you need to sit on the heel of my hand to see the points I… eh… koonyardo vi… reef-fur to," stated Steele.
"Refer?" I asked, hoping to help him just as much as he has helped me.
"Ah! Yes. Bromidian. Refer. Points I refer to," said Steele. I nodded and hoisted myself up onto his hand and practically crawled onto the heel of his palm because my limbs were practically screaming in protest with every movement I made.
Once I made it, Steele began pointing to different fingers and explaining how to pinch and twist them to place someone into submission easily.
"You pinch the little one like this," he said as he took his pinkie finger, curled it in toward his palm, and squeezed on the bunched, curled up finger. "Moving it like this is not normal and painful for the body. Then, bending the wrist back can bring an enemy to their knees."
"I see," I said.
"Good. Then, notice how your arm twists as you move," said Steele, rotating his left arm for me to see as a demonstration. Steele continued to explain as he lowered his left arm and pointed to different spots on his arm and hand. "By grabbing the hand here and twisting along this line here, you can pry someone's hand off of you and get them in a submissive stance."
"So, I'm supposed to twist and push down like this?" I asked. Instantly, as I performed the motion Steele told me about, I felt a twisting pain shoot through my limb. I didn't even twist very hard and yet knew this was a very strong power move to be used if someone tried grabbing me.
Steele continued for the next hour talking about different poses and maneuvers to use. One of them, which was really useful and simple, was anticipating someone lunging, snagging their wrist, pivoting, and then using their forward momentum and weight against them as you forced them to the ground and pinned them there.
The more he spoke, I saw that there was something in his eyes. I could not quite place the emotion. It almost looked reminiscent at times, but other moments it was sprinkled with pain and renewed knowledge.
The more Steele talked, the more I started to wonder whether or not he had explained these things before to someone else. With the ease of his explanations, I could only assume he had done this at least a few times before.
An unexpected pang hit me full on in the chest. All I could think of was all of the people Steele had told this knowledge to and how I wished that I could be learning things like this from my own father. I wondered about him for a moment.
Would my father know how to fight? Was he any good at fighting? Or was he more of a scholar. You could be one and the other, as Steele demonstrated every day from his expansive knowledge and his use of tactics and skill. Was he a smooth talker? A diplomat who could talk his way out of conflict?
As I wondered these things, another painful pang hit me and made my heart clench.
What did it matter wondering these things about him?
I would never see him.
I would never meet him.
What good did it do thinking about him and all of the things he failed to teach me when he left my momma?
I must've stopped paying attention just long enough for Steele to notice, because I felt his index finger reach up and brush against my shoulder tenderly.
"Terrilyn? Are you alright? Are you finished for the day?" asked Steele. I didn't realize it, but I suddenly felt warm moisture at the corners of my eyes. Why was my vision blurry?
"Um… yeah… I mean… yes. Sorry. Or, um…. Ptiedier. I was just thinking about something. I was distracted. That was rude. I'm sorry," I stammered, realizing only after a moment that I had thrown in an apology in his tongue. Steele, instead of accepting and continuing the lesson now that I was paying attention, unfolded and then refolded his legs to readjust his sitting position and lifted the hand that I was in so he could rest his arm against his knee.
Waves of concern seemed to emanate from him and wash over me, only giving me that compressed feeling in my chest more. My cheeks started to feel warm. Everything tingled. I wanted him to look away and continue with the lesson, but it somehow felt like everything came to a screeching halt with my mental wanderings.
After a few more moments, Steele did as I predicted and began to ask questions of his own.
"Thinking? About what?" Steele asked. That concern in his voice did not help that compressed feeling in my chest. I felt so cornered and vulnerable all at once, but it oddly didn't make me feel helpless. It was like my momma was asking me a question – asking to know and to help rather than just for the sake of gathering information.
Somehow, someway, Steele felt my momentary hesitation or saw my internal conflict and, in his way, offered comfort. "Terrilyn, you do not have to tell me if you do not want to. Just… if I have done something to hurt or offend, I want to apologize."
I felt my insides flip guiltily. It was not his fault, and he didn't need to apologize. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and turned around to face Steele.
"No, don't apologize. It isn't your fault. I was just… thinking," I said. My mouth felt dry like I stuffed cotton in my cheeks, but I felt some odd urge to talk about the thoughts rattling around in my head that led me on my mental tangent. I let the warmth from Steele's palm spread through my body to give me the reassuring boost I needed to voice what I had kept in my mind and heart for so long.
"I was just thinking about… my dad."
There was a silence after my statement that was filled only with the gentle breeze with the smell of warm flowers mingled with it. The words seemed to sink into Steele's mind slowly, like water through one of his water filters, when his eyes narrowed and he nodded thoughtfully.
"I understand," he said softly, his thunderous voice rumbling deep in his chest. "You did not know him?" I shook my head, glimpsing my auburn curls that managed to slip out of my ponytail as they fell into my face.
"No. He left before I got to know him. I don't even have his family name to go find him," I muttered, remembering my momma explaining this to me when I asked why our family names were different.
"Family name? What is yours?" asked Steele. My cheeks felt like they were on fire. I don't know why I felt embarrassed. Perhaps it was because I had not talked about it before with him or because it was a reminder of what I had been teased about for years of my life. I picked at the dirt under my nails for a moment before responding.
"Lun. It's Terrilyn Lun, and my momma is Raina Toro," I replied. "Lun comes from the time of day I was born, since it was at night, and because my father… didn't give me his name." Steele nodded slowly. I felt his hands trembling just beneath me. Was it because of age? Or was it from frustration and emotion?
One glance up into his violet eyes told me it was because of his emotions. He was obviously upset for me but was doing what he could to conceal and control his emotions as to not upset me.
He is so thoughtful that way.
"Ptiedier, Terrilyn. I did not know…"
"No, it's okay. It's just how things are," I said, forcing a bit of a smile onto my face as I gazed up at Steele's concerned features, his expression wrinkling his crow's feet by his eyes and furrowing his brow. "It's just… I wish I knew more about him. I wish he taught me things the way you're teaching me. I… don't ask momma about him because I know it will upset her, but it doesn't stop me from being curious and wanting to know."
Steele readjusted his sitting position, being careful as I sat there on his palm, before a melancholy, curious expression filled his face.
"What did you want to know?" asked the older Orion. I squirmed a little as I sat there, thinking about everything I wanted to ask my dad.
"You know… just… anything," I replied. "Like, asking him about what it was like growing up and what kind of plants are good and bad to eat. I'd know if he was a scholar like one of those educated types or if he was stronger and could take a punch. Just… a little bit of everything. That's why I love spending time with you. You teach me so much. You taught me about your language, and you tell me stories. You're teaching me to fight and to think. You care about me, like how momma cares about me."
There.
I said it out loud.
I managed to get out some of those wretched words that had been rattling around in my head for as long as I could remember. In a weird way, I felt a weight lift from my chest. It felt like the compression ended just a little, but it was still there. Just because I voiced something didn't mean it would make the feeling go away. I should have known that it wouldn't leave me, even though I wished it would.
"I am sorry to hear this," apologized Steele. His left index finger came up and brushed my back gently, which made me smile. "Can I do anything to help?" I thought about it for a long moment, thinking about everything Steele had already done for me. Was there anything more that he could do that he wasn't already.
I ended up shaking my head.
"No, I just…" I looked into his violet eyes and felt that weight lift just a little bit more. If I was behind honest with myself, more time spent with him seemed to lessen the burden in my heart. I had no real words how to describe what was going on. I felt confused, but also determined. Steele had done so much for me and continued to do so much every single day.
Instead of trying to verbalize all of my thoughts, I decided on something different that would mean just as much to him.
I wiggled my legs out from under me and laid down on Steele's palm, spreading my arms as far apart as I could in an effort to hug his entire hand before muttering a single word.
"Bromidian."
Steele's smile was so genuine – so warm – and I knew that he cared for me as if I were his own. His fingers curled lightly over me as he nodded.
"Youl-heiris," he smiled. I closed my eyes and, though the day was still burning warm, I let myself lay against his hand. At some point, he readjusted to lay on his back and laid me against his chest. I stayed curled up against his chest, listening to the sound of his deep, rumbling breath and the gentle thumping of his heart pulsing beneath me.
At some point, the both of us drifted off, Steele's calloused hand laid gently over me like a tent. The last thing I remembered was gently grasping at the vast canvas of cloth that made his shirt. When we woke, Steele decided we had worked enough for the day and that, the next day, he would teach me about swords and knives.
"You are doing well in your stances and switches. We will start with sticks, but it is important to know these other skills," said Steele.
Once again, I felt invigorated and determined to learn everything I could from Steele. What was more exciting was that I was about to learn about weapons – something that only boys got to study and learn about.
Excited beyond words, I made sure to stretch and eat well at dinner to be ready for the next day.