Fall 18, 506 AV
 n a dark room somewhere on the outskirts of Sunberth Leiwinn stood, a dagger in her hand. Sweat dripped from her forehead, stinging her eyes. She was not alone in the room... she was never alone. Her opponent stood across from her, showing none of the signs of fatigue that she showed.
"Your body is your greatest weapon, but sometimes it is not enough. The dagger is weapon of choice for most in our profession. It is small, easily concealed, and deadly."
The assassin, Father as she called him, was very skilled with his dagger. Leiwinn would be made short work of if she challenged him to a real battle, but lucky for her this was just a training exercise. Father sprung forward, his arm darting out so quick she barely see the shining blade that sliced past her throat. But Leiwinn was quick too, and took two quick steps back before slashing out with her own weapon. Father was quick to spin back around and his blade came up, blocking Leiwinns strike. He shoved her away, signaling a halt to the combat.
"Good. Never duck out of your opponents attack. You will be putting your face right in the path of their blade. Always move back, or from side to side."
Father returned to the center of the room, motioning for Leiwinn to do the same. "There are three main stances. The high guard, dagger forward and high, offhand back and middle height. Shielded guard, dagger middle and slightly forward, offhand against the dagger, knuckles outermost. And wide guard, arms spread, offhand open and ready to grapple. Each has its advantages and disadvantages. You must learn what guard to take and when. Never remain in the same stance for more than a few seconds, always flow through, and be ready to improvise at any time."
Father took the high guard, circling to Leiwinns right. Leiwinn took shielded, pivoting but remaining in place. Father sliced down at her right shoulder and Leiwinn tried to counter as he had shown her, stepping forward with her left foot and grabbing the hand, pushing it out to the side, and slicing across the mid section with her own dagger. Father thrust his hips back, dodging the strike and spun to the right, coming back around with a slice across the ribs. This time Leiwinn was too slow, and the dagger struck true, cutting a line of red into her ribs. Had this been a real fight the gash would have been much deeper.
Father did not stop his assault, cutting down at her left side again. Leiwinn stepped to block, but the attack was a feint and at the last second he switched directions, slicing horizontal across her stomach and drawing another line in her flesh. Leiwinn winced against the pain but kept up her guard for the next attack. This time it was a straight thrust into her gut, but she managed to parry it with the dagger, punching out at his face with her offhand and landing a solid hit, breaking the assassins nose.
Father staggered back, shaking his head to clear his vision, but Leiwinn knew better and thrust forward. She thought she had him, but his momentary helplessness was just a ruse, and Father brought down his dagger to parry, flipping Leiwinn's up and into the air, then stepped in with a knee to the gut. His dagger came down from behind and into her shoulder... or it would have, if this had been a real fight. Stopping just short of the kill, he shoved her back and returned to the center of the room.
"Good job. But if this were a real fight, you would have died three times already. Again!"
Father thrust forward, not giving Leiwinn a moment to rest, and this time she knocked the blow aside with her right hand, thrusting the dagger forward with the left. It was a killing blow, and Father stepped back with a smirk on his face. "Not bad, Winn. You are learning quickly. Again!"
Leiwinn and Father stayed at it for hours, drilling the same attacks, the same counters, over and over again. This was how most of her days were spent then, training constantly, learning everything the old man had to teach. She hated him for what he did to her parents, but she had nothing else to do, nowhere else to go. Not that she could have left if she wanted, the man would have killed her in a second, as he often reminded her. When the day finally ended and she collapsed into her bed her dreams were filled with flashing daggers and shouts of "Again!" over and over. The next morning she would wake up for more drills, and it would continue for several weeks before they moved on to the next lesson. Such was her life in those years.
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by Leiwinn on October 7th, 2010, 1:38 am 
