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BRAXTON
Swiftly lifting my arm, my sword crashed against Harrison’s black spear, blocking his attack, and I spun to the right on my heel, seeing him whirl in the other direction. Our weapons collided again a moment before either of us could strike the other’s thigh, and then we swung high. The sweet song of metal clashing against metal danced in our ears, mixed with our exhilarated laugher.
Left, high, low, right, we met each other blow against blow, our movements coming faster and faster, muscles aching and burning with the force of each combination in the most amazing way. The strategic maneuvers were now a part of me, and I loved that what I had once learned during child play with my father, was now making me the man I was always meant to be.
“Gods!” Harrison yelped when I suddenly leapt forwards, sword aimed high and ready to come down on his neck. Ducking just in time to avoid the hit, he spun on his knee, rising behind me to thrust his blade into my back. I whirled, landing just as my sword crashed against his spear.
“Woohoo!”
“That’s how you do it!”
“No mercy!”
Penelope, Elijah, and Islay shouted, applauding our efforts and laughing with the other Elevated Warriors, just as Harrison and I stumbled to a stop. Sweat dampened our bodies from exhaustion—we had been going for about an hour, neither of us able to best the other.
Grinning, Harrison wiped the sweat from his forehead, and offered me his hand. “Good round, Brother.”
“Agreed.” I smirked, lifting my hand. “High five!”
“High what?”
“You know, high five.” I shook my hand in the air. “You lift your hand and slam it against mine.”
Harrison frowned. “Why would I want to hit your hand?”
“No, it’s like a clap. Like in celebration.”
“You want me to hit you because I’m happy?”
“No, it’s not hitting, it’s like clapping—you know what? Never mind.” Defeated, I shook his hand, and lifted the bottom of my shirt to wipe my face clean.
Harper and Arlo threw a sly glance at the shirt I wore under the armor, and I was sure they wondered why I always covered myself, but they respected me enough to never ask. I truly appreciated that.
“Okay, who’s next?” Asher asked, glancing at the girls to see who wanted to fight me.
Each day, since I began my Elevated Warrior training, I’d spent the mornings with Kingston and the Dragons, while each afternoon was spent sparring with these guys. They took turns between helping me practice each isolated movement over and over so it could be more fluent and precise, and sparring together. Every one of them had different styles of attack, even when using the same maneuvers. It had been challenging but also interesting, and well, kind of fun.
It was probably the oddest thing for me to admit, but I finally felt like I was in my own skin… I belonged.
“Nobody?” I challenged them when no one lifted their hand.
They glanced at each other, like they were trying to figure out who was next. “I am pretty sure we all took turns with you this week already,” Arlo offered, pointing at her friends with a finger, as though matching each of them to a day. I usually sparred with two each afternoon.
“Nah, you all are just scared.”
Chuckling, Harper shrugged from where she and Elijah stood—their arms crossed while partly resting their weight against a large boulder. “Fine, I’ll give you another chance. But please don’t cry this time, okay? It’s very unbecoming,” she joked, and everyone laughed.
My lips twitched. “Hey, I wasn’t crying. You got dirt into my eye.”
Asher laughed at that, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“What about you? We haven’t sparred once since I joined you guys.”
“You are not ready for me yet, Braxton,” he reasoned, taking a bite of the cookie-shaped energy bar.
My mouth dropped. “Oh, excuse me, Mr. Bad-ass.”
Wrapping the bar, he shook his head, amused, while Harper and the others snickered, but he didn’t even bother to respond.
