We started the lesson as soon as the first rays of dawn cascaded across the sky. Perseus awoke before I did, his barely contained excitement obvious in his eager smile and bright gaze. He clutched his staff between his hands, his fingers worrying the wood as he waited for me to be ready.

My gaze went from the staff in his hands to the bronze sword I kept in the corner of the chamber. It was the one thing I had stolen from the forest battlefield, the only weapon I had not buried with the soldiers. The metal seemed to wink in the sunlight as I stared at it, as if mocking me.

I quickly broke my gaze from it and retrieved another wooden staff nearly identical to Perseus'. We would be training with staffs only. The sword I kept only in case I needed it for my own protection.

"Come on," I said once I was prepared. I grabbed Perseus by the hand and started to pull him after me. "There's a good spot not far from here."

He followed me willingly as I led him into the forest, a place where I'd never taken him before. We went slowly, as he used his staff to feel the new, unfamiliar ground before stepping forward. Tall pine and cypress trees rose all around us, like giant fingers pointing toward the sky. I allowed my gaze to drift upward. It was another cloudless, summer day, hot and humid and beautiful. The forest itself seemed to sigh in contentment as we strode through it.

Soon we reached our destination, a clearing in the middle of the forest. The place was encircled by trees, but only grass, weeds, and flowers filled the circular meadow. It would be a good space to practice.

"We're here," I informed Perseus, letting go of his hand and moving to stand directly across from him. He closed his eyes and lifted his head toward the sky. I knew he was focusing on his other senses to observe the clearing- the scent of flowers and tree sap in the air, the open sky above us and the rustling of the leaves as wind moved through the tree branches. I waited patiently, and a few moments later he opened his eyes and looked back in my direction. He was ready to begin.

"Before we begin, I'll need to ask about what combat training you've already had," I told him. "When did you begin to learn? How many years have you practiced swordplay? Anything you can think of to tell me."

He nodded in understanding. "I first began to use the sword when I was eleven," he said. "My grandfather said it was the right age for me to begin training. He assigned the arms master of the palace to work with me, a gruff man too old to continue his career as a general and too proud to retire to the life of an old man. With him I trained and studied, but I never saw battle, was never even allowed to spar with other boys. I suppose it was too great of a risk for a prince of Argos." He paused to roll his eyes, clearly showing what he thought of that sentiment. "I trained with him until I was fourteen. That was when my mother and I ended up in Seriphos. There, everything was different. Polydectes immediately enlisted me into his armies as a common soldier and I was thrust into battle for the first time. I trained together with the other men, I sparred with them, and I fought side by side with them when other armies threatened the city. I gained experience quickly, moved through the ranks as the years went by. I've survived enough battles at this point to know that I'm not half bad with a sword." He swung the staff around between his hands as if to demonstrate. "In fact, I'm quite good."

I listened patiently to his words, processing everything he said as he said it. I was not surprised he had so much battle experience, not after seeing all of the scars and marks that decorated his body. And I had no doubt he was good with a sword- or had been, before his sight was lost to him. Now, however, he needed to understand that he couldn't afford to be confident.

"So you don't lack training," I said, taking a few steps closer to him. "That's good. But this won't be about training you, Perseus. This will be about retraining you."

Swinging my arms in a swift motion, I lashed out with my staff, hitting Perseus squarely in the stomach. He gasped out in equal parts surprise and pain, hunching over as he regained his balance once more. "You'll never be able to face Medusa if you can't even defend yourself from a simple attack," I said. "That's where we'll begin- anticipating an attack and blocking it."

He straightened, squaring his shoulders, and nodded in acknowledgement. His eyes glinted with anticipation, a small smile crossing his face. He looked pleased to be training with a weapon again, back in his element, even if it was without vision.

I walked in a slow circle around him. "First, we'll practice improving your spatial perception." He frowned, straining his ears to listen to my footsteps on the forest floor. His muscles tensed and I saw his grip on the staff tighten. He was putting all of his focus into listening.

"When I make noise, turn and face me," I told him, continuing to walk in a lazy circle just out of the reach of his weapon. He slowly turned his body toward my voice, moving around slowly.

"Understood." His tone was short and firm, the tone of a solider used to obeying orders. I wanted to tell him that he didn't need to use such a tone with me, but I pushed the urge down. If this was how he was used to training, I shouldn't mess with it.

I walked until I was exactly behind him and paused. I slammed my staff onto the ground, the impact of it sending out a loud thump. In less than a second, Perseus whipped around to face me, but he wasn't exact. He narrowed his eyes and pointed his staff at the air a few paces to my right.

Staying in the same spot, I slammed my staff down again. This time, Perseus adjusted his direction, getting it correct.

"That's it," I said. "We'll do this until you're able to get it right on the first try. Then I'll begin to move faster and we'll do the same thing over again. With any luck, by the end of the day you'll be able to face my exact direction as soon as I make a noise."

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. I waited until he tensed his muscles again, his body coiled and prepared. "Okay," he said. "I'm ready."

We continued with the same activity until sunset. I walked in circles around Perseus, slamming my staff on the ground to make noise and watching carefully to see if he got my location correct.

It took a long time, several hours until he began to determine my location correctly on the first try. After that, I increased my speed and the difficulty increased tenfold. Despite the tediousness of it all and the inevitable frustrations, Perseus didn't have a word of complaint. He was constantly on the balls of his feet, coiled as tight as a taut bowstring and his mind as sharp as a knife. He moved with impressive speed every time, never seeming to tire. I myself grew impatient with the tedium quickly, and felt more than eager to sleep by the end of the day. But Perseus stayed alert and energized the whole time. I wondered if all soldiers had been trained to have such stamina. Somehow I doubted that there were many who exhibited the same intense dedication as Perseus.

I stopped him when the sun began to sink below the canopy of the trees and the clearing became tinged with a soft orange glow. The wind, previously a welcome relief from the heat, now carried a chill with it that made me shiver. Soon the forest would go black around us as the stars one by one winked into existence. My fearsome appearance protected me from any dangers that might lurk in the forest at night, but Perseus' presence made me nervous. I couldn't be sure what creatures might dare to approach me if they were tempted enough by Perseus' mortal flesh.

"That's enough," I said. I twirled my staff between my hands to stretch my muscles, enjoying the pleasant burning feeling sensation it sent through them. We would get to more strenuous exercises in future lessons, but today had been rather easy for me.

Though I felt unbothered, I could see the toll the long day had taken on Perseus. He leaned heavily on his staff with one hand, the other pressed to his skull as he squeezed his eyes shut and took deep inhales. I felt a twinge of guilt for working him so hard- I should never have believed his unaffected façade, his blunt soldier's eyes that insisted he was able to keep going. I could tell that it been less physically than mentally taxing for him. He had been in a constant state of hyper focus, of intense unbreakable concentration, for so many hours at a time. I imagined his head was aching monstrously.

"You did well," I told him, daring to take a few steps closer but hesitating to touch him while he recovered his breath. "For your first day, you took to it quickly. By the end, you were right nearly every time." I paused, then added, "How do you feel?"

He exhaled one last time then stood up straight again, taking his weight off of the staff. "Like my head's about to explode," he admitted, his voice gruff. "But also like I made progress. I just..." He trailed off, turning his face away. I took another step closer to him, tilting my head in curiosity.

"Yes?"

He sighed. "I suppose that, in spite of all logic, I didn't expect it would be this hard." He turned his gaze back to my direction. "I hope I'm capable enough. I can't afford not to be."

I thought back to his struggle to work the loom, how he'd single-mindedly decided that he would learn it and never strayed from that goal. How he now weaved upon it as well as anyone with careful, practiced precision. The loom was a tool just as the sword was. He was right; it would be difficult, perhaps more difficult than anything he had ever tried to achieve before. But I had no doubt in my mind that he was capable enough.

"You will be," I told him, surprised by the conviction in my own voice.