The Captain

thirteen

Bonnie reappeared on the deck a minute or so later, a new sword in her hand. She brought it over, handing it to me. 

The blade was heavy in my hand, but not uncomfortably so. The sensation of it was foreign, but not unpleasant. 

"How's it feel?" Bonnie asked. 

"Pretty good, I think."

She pulled out her own sword, one of similar make to the one I held in my hand. 

"Here, try this." She swung her arm forward in a slashing motion. I did my best to copy her, despite the movement coming out awkward and wobbly. 

"Okay, try again."

I swung it forward, keeping it a little more steady this time. 

Bonnie went on for the next hour, showing me parries and blocks, how to attack and defend. My mind was reeling from all the information and my body was sore, but I was getting it a little more. 

Not perfect, but not awful either. 

"Okay. Let's get you someone to practice with... Charlie! C'mere!"

Charlie looked up from whatever he was doing, I couldn't tell, and came over. 

"What's up?"

"Can you practice with Florence? Go easy, obviously. I just wanna see her technique."

He nodded, unsheathing his own sword. He backed up, bending his knees and holding the sword aloft. He met my eyes, asking if I was going to attack first.

Steeling my nerves, I launched forward, trying one of the attacks Bonnie had taught me. The metal clanged together loudly, Charlie fending me off easily. He blocked a few more of my strikes before disarming me easily. 

My sword clattered onto the deck.

"Not bad. All of your attacks were glaringly obvious, but your technique was pretty good," Bonnie remarked, picking up the sword and handing it back to me.

I took it, brushing the hair out of my eyes with my other hand. 

"How do I make them less obvious?"

"You aren't confident enough yet. You do this thing with your face before you attack, sorta scrunching it up. It's a clear tell that you're about to attack."

I unscrunched my eyebrows. 

"Oh."

"Every fight is going to be different. Each opponent will have a style of fighting. For example, Ernie is a defensive fighter."

"No better offence than a good defence!" Ernie called. 

Bonnie rolled her eyes. 

"And Dalt is more offensive. You've gotta find what suits you, and then figure out what the weakness of the other person is so you can exploit it."

She grabbed her own sword and faced Charlie. They clashed together for a few minutes, seemingly evenly matched until Bonnie managed to disarm him using a strange blow to his forehand.

"Charlie has a weak right side defence, see?"

Charlie stuck his tongue out at her. 

"I let you win."

"I'm sure you did," she teased back. "Does that make sense?"

I nodded, a little unsure of how I was supposed to figure out my own style of fighting. I clearly couldn't go entirely offensive, I was much smaller than most opponents. I couldn't go entirely defensive because I wasn't solid or immovable like Ernie was.