"I hardly think this is fair," Theiden said.

He and the witch were standing in the cottage clearing, in the grass just beyond the bare dirt rows of the vegetable garden and the vacant gaze of the scarecrow. A few days had passed since their visit to the scrying witch, and they were finally going to spar again. Only this time, Lenesa had not given him a weapon.

The last three days had been made up of agility and strengthening exercises—balancing and lifting and pushing. He had been fairly adept at those sorts of things before, and now he could do them with ease. But this...this was a bit different.

Lenesa stared him down from a few feet away, a dull sword gleaming in her hand. Theiden had no idea where she had gotten the weapon from, but he was more concerned with the fact that he did not have a weapon of his own.

"How am I supposed to defend myself?" Theiden objected.

The witch's expression remained impassive. "Fights are rarely ever fair," she said. Her words came out in small clouds against the chilly early spring air. "You'll have to figure something out."

"Fine," Theiden grumped. "Let me go find a stick or someth—"

He turned away, but motion blurred in the corner of his eye and he instinctively leapt back. A second later, Lenesa's blade hovered less than an inch from his nose.

"H-hey!"

Lenesa stepped forward, lowering the sword but pinning him instead with her violet gaze. "The Turned creatures are not going to give you time to find a stick," she snapped.

Theiden crossed his arms. "Then what do I do?"

The witch stepped back and flourished her sword. "Come up with a solution to defeat me."

"Of course. How simple," Theiden grumbled.

He didn't have long to sulk, though, as Lenesa lunged towards him again, and he was forced to twist out of the way or risk being impaled. The evasive maneuver almost threw him off-balance, but he managed to catch himself and duck as the next swing came at his head.

"Good," Lenesa said as Theiden stumbled back. "A bit clumsy, but not bad."

"I still have no way of winning this fight," Theiden said. "I can only defend myself for so long."

"So then change your tactics," Lenesa replied. "Attack me."

"With what?"

"I'm sure you can come up with something."

Her blade sliced through the air, and Theiden was again forced to jump aside, crouching low to the ground as wind whistled over his head. What annoyed him—aside from not having a weapon, of course—was that Lenesa didn't even seem to be trying that hard to attack him. Her swings were wide and exaggerated, as if the fighting was all a game to her.

Still crouched low, Theiden's hand brushed over something hard in the grass, and his fingers immediately wrapped around the object. Perfect.

Before Lenesa could bring the sword back up for her next attack, Theiden's arm snapped up, and he launched the rock he had found right at the witch's head.

Lenesa ducked, and the rock sailed past her. Theiden took the opportunity to lunge for the sword in her hand, but she was ready for him and quickly spun out of reach, leveling the blade in his direction.

"Nice try, but you'll have to work harder than that," she said.

A yell tore from Theiden's throat and he jumped forward again. But the witch merely sidestepped him and extended a foot for Theiden to trip over and land in the mud.

"Argh!" He snarled, hands clenching into fists out of frustration and humiliation.

Lenesa wiggled her foot. "Careful."

Theiden scrambled to his feet, a twinge in his right arm reminding him of a bruise from one on the witch's agility exercises the day before. Was she only doing this to mock him?

The next time Theiden tried to attack, Lenesa whirled and hit him across the back with the flat of her blade, sending him sprawling.

"Ugh!" Theiden spat out a leaf.

"Focus," Lenesa urged. "You're not in the right mindset."

"And which mindset would that be, exactly?" Theiden snarled.

"You're angry, and it's making you irrational," Lenesa replied evenly. "When you go hunting, do you just blindly launch yourself at your prey? Or do you calculate the best angle of attack, and take note of any weak spots?"

"When I'm hunting, I'm not trying to dodge a madwoman with a sword," Theiden growled. "The animals don't know I'm there until it's too late."

Lenesa shrugged. "So there is a difference of whether your opponent is aware of your presence or not, and if so, it requires a bit more concentration. But that is no excuse for you to forget all of your training and lunge at me like a wild thing. If I were Turned, I'd be able to kill you in an instant. So leave your anger behind." She tapped the tip of the sword on the ground. "Again."

Theiden stood up slowly, wiping mud from his chin—though it felt like he only succeeded in spreading it further across his face. He watched Lenesa warily, trying to control his breathing and reign in his temper as she had suggested.

A dull glint of metal was the first hint that the witch had moved to strike again. Yet instead of backing away, Theiden jumped forward, ducking under Lenesa's arm and shooting past the witch. He spun around before she had time to turn and face him, and an idea began to form upon seeing the witch's unprotected back.

What was it Lenesa had said earlier about fights not being fair?

Theiden reached out and grabbed Lenesa's left arm, twisting it behind her and putting pressure on her shoulder, right where he had seen that terrible scar of hers. She wanted him to be rational in his fighting? Fine. He knew one weakness of hers, at least, and he was going to use it. The sword immediately dropped from the witch's other hand with a startled cry of pain, and for a moment, Theiden almost felt guilty about hurting her.

The next moment a shockwave rippled through the air, and Theiden found himself knocked several feet back before landing awkwardly and falling to the ground. Pain lanced through his right leg, and he closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

The soft squelch, squelch of footsteps in the mud warned him of the witch's arrival. Theiden opened his eyes to find Lenesa standing above him, sword pointed at his throat.

He sat up with a wince, hand instinctively going to his injured leg. "You cheated."

Lenesa gave him a stony look. "You should have dodged," she said before sheathing the sword in the scabbard at her waist. "You'll need to practice your reflexes again tomorrow."

"And how will I do that? By jumping around some more spells you throw at me?" Theiden scowled and stumbled to his feet, hissing when his ankle throbbed against the weight he put on it.

The only sign that Lenesa noticed Theiden's discomfort was a quick flick of her gaze to his ankle and then back up again. Her face was perfectly expressionless—obviously, she couldn't have cared less that she had hurt him. Theiden gritted his teeth.

"That's enough training for one day," Lenesa said, ignoring his questions. "Let's go inside before it gets dark."

She led the way back to the cottage, not waiting for Theiden to catch up as he limped along behind her. By the time he had reached the front door, Shwei had already lit the fireplace and Lenesa had started a pot of beans cooking on the stove.

One of the dining chairs had situated itself right underneath the coat hooks, and Theiden plopped down on the seat, not caring how much mud he was getting over the furniture and the polished wooden floor. Kettle would probably take delight in having something to clean later, anyway.

"Coat and shoes off, please," Lenesa called from the kitchen, just as the teakettle began to sing. Theiden bit back a retort and pulled off his mud-spattered coat, finding a clean spot on the inside to wipe most of the mud off his face. After hanging up the coat, Theiden kicked off his shin-high black leather boots—or tried to, at least. The boot on his swollen right ankle was a bit stuck and took a bit of tugging to come off. As soon as he had finally managed to free his foot, however, a shadow fell over him.

"What do you want?" Theiden snapped, looking up at the witch.

"Here." Lenesa held out a blue porcelain mug, which Theiden hesitantly accepted. Upon seeing his curious expression, the witch elaborated. "Green tea with ginger, for the pain."

Theiden took a sip. "Thanks," he grumbled.

Surprisingly, Lenesa kept standing next to him. After taking another sip of the tea, Theiden glanced up again and raised an eyebrow at her in silent inquiry.

"You did well in training today," Lenesa said softly. Her lavender irises were studying him with an almost mesmerizing intensity, and Theiden blinked and looked away quickly before he could get caught in their spell.

"I, um, well...about your arm..." Theiden stuttered. "I didn't mean to hurt—"

"No." Her voice interrupted him, cool as an autumn breeze. "You did mean for it to hurt. But it was a smart move; I cannot fault you for it. There is no need to apologize."

Unsure of how to respond, Theiden took a large gulp of his tea. Movement in the corner of his vision startled him into nearly spilling the rest of the cup in his lap.

Lenesa had moved to a crouch before him, placing her hands on either side of his injured ankle. Slowly, she inched the sock off his foot and set her hands on the bruised, swollen skin beneath. Her fingers were like ice, but soothing against his skin.

"What are you doing?" Theiden asked, hardly daring to raise his voice above a whisper.

"Finish your tea," she said, not looking up at him.

Theiden swallowed the last of the drink hurriedly, wincing as the hot liquid scalded the roof of his mouth. But he was too distracted by what Lenesa was doing to take much notice. The witch pressed down on the outside of his foot, and a jolt of pain shot through his leg.

"Ouch! Careful!"

Lenesa ignored him and instead closed her eyes, lips moving in an incantation that was far too quiet and foreign for Theiden to make any sense of.

At the far end of the cottage, the fireplace punctuated the near-silence with its uneven cracks and pops as the flames consumed the sap-laden pine logs. Time stretched on as each snap and sizzle sent waves of fire dancing with the shadows in the grate. Theiden focused on the sparks that leapt from the wood and buried themselves in the ashes, and the smoke that curled up and disappeared into the darkness of the chimney—anything to distract from the magic the witch was casting.

"There," Lenesa whispered, drawing Theiden's attention back to his ankle. He was surprised to see that the swelling had gone down, and once Lenesa removed her hands, he gave it an experimental roll. It was as though he had never hurt it to begin with.

"Thank you," he said.

Lenesa moved to her feet in one graceful, fluid motion. "Dinner is almost ready," she said, still not looking directly at him. Theiden frowned at her aloofness. Had she not actually wanted to help him? It wasn't like he had asked her for help to begin with.

No matter. Theiden tried to brush off the odd feeling and focused on other things. "So, beans for dinner?" he asked casually.

Lenesa finally gave him a quick glance, and for a moment, Theiden thought he saw her mouth twitch up in a small smile. "Not just beans, of course. There are potatoes as well."

Theiden sighed. "Again? We've had potatoes for the past two days!"

The witch shrugged and turned away. "I got a good deal for them when I last visited the city. A few days in a row of potatoes never killed anyone."

Theiden rolled his eyes and looked over to a feline version of Shwei, who was perched on his favorite spot on the back of the old armchair.

"You wouldn't eat potatoes for three days straight, would you?" he asked the wisp.

The glowing blue cat gave Theiden a long, un-amused stare before licking his paw and dragging it up over his head.

"Of course not," Theiden grumbled. "Do you even eat anything to begin with?"

Then something the witch had said caught his attention.

"Wait." He turned back to Lenesa. "When did you last visit the city?" Thoughts ran through his head with the possibilities of what the witch had done there. Had she cursed more people? Had she seen Em? How many other witches besides Lenesa made regular trips to Patachal City, right under the citizen's noses?

"About a week ago." She wandered back into the kitchen, and her next words were more distant. "There are a few people who I can trade with. It's difficult to grow all my own food in the garden, after all."

"Are you sure you didn't curse anyone?" Theiden mumbled under his breath, half-disbelieving that the witch could have gone to the city on such a harmless errand as to get groceries. Then again, she had just helped him with her magic, hadn't she? Maybe she didn't do such terrible things all the time. It was a small hope, at least.

"Hurry up!" Lenesa called, having not heard his question. "The quicker you clean off that mud, the sooner you can eat!"

The smell of beans, peppers, and potatoes wafted through the air, and Theiden gave another sigh before standing up and heading for the washroom.

~*~

Whenever I use the word "impaled", that gif above is what I think of.  Thanks, Olaf.  XD

So I didn't really go back to edit this chapter, I just realized that oops haven't posted for a while.  So here you go.  Let me know what you think!