Villainus || Folkelore

Chapter 2

"Start with five laps around the room," Tyr barks — at least I think it's Tyr; I've had so many trainers it's hard to keep track. He walks over to the bench to watch me.

The five laps are an easy way to get my blood pumping and to let my mind wander. Wait, no, I don't want it to wander. Just need to focus on one foot in front of the other. Keep a rhythm. Left foot, exhale. Right foot, inhale. Repeat. There. No thoughts of you-know-who sneaking in.

I finish the laps quickly, a headache already beginning to throb in the back of my head. Training shouldn't take this much focus! Tyr stands, walking towards me. "We're starting with fist to fist combat. We go on three.. One..two..."  and before I can even think to bring my fists up, his knuckles graze my cheek. "Don't expect the hit," He snaps. I grab his next punch, twisting his arm behind his back.

From behind he almost looks like- I blink and my feet are out from under me.

"Never let yourself get distracted, especially with hand to hand," He scolds. I scowl at the floor and set my hands on the ground to push to my feet. As I swing my leg out to stand, he tries to push me back down, but my footing is solid, and I resist perfectly. I lift my upper body, and he nods.

"Better. Now let's try this again."

We circle each other, watching for someone to make the first move. Finally, I move in one direction to fake him out, but quickly grab his shoulders and knock his feet out from under him.

"That was repetitive. You're getting worse!" He growled. I set my jaw, looking at the wall above him. It's fine if he does the same moves every day, but I use the same move as him and I'm getting worse. Of course.

"Your father will be disappointed Octavia, I'm not sure I'll be able to stop him," he sighs. I bite my tongue. My father is always disappointed.

"Let's practice again," I mutter. Maybe this time I'll get something right. We spar once more, and I manage to get in some good hits and combinations. At one point I even get Tyr into a headlock where he taps out. I give him a squeeze – gotta show who's in charge – before I release him and step back.

"That wasn't as pathetic." Aw, how sweet, Tyr gave me a compliment. I think he's starting to like me. "One more spar, if I win you'll have extra training this evening, if you win we'll skip it."

I nod, squaring up. Right as we're about to begin, the door slams open and my father walks in. Great, just what I needed. Tyr bows to him, and I curtsy. Father waves to signal that we continue.

I face Tyr again, determined to do well. Tyr pulls out some of his more difficult moves, obviously trying to impress my father, but I counter them all. He tries to grab me, but I flip him over my shoulder. He easily rolls over, grabbing at my ankle. I drop to the ground, reaching with my legs to choke him this way. They easily wrap around his throat, tightening till the veins in his face pop. Even after he taps out, I keep applying pressure until he goes still. I unwrap my legs and stand, facing my father. I give him a bow, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Hmm," he hums. "It appears you need a new trainer. This one is too weak."

No. Tyr was bad enough, the next person Father chooses will probably have me fight to the death. Not that Father would care.

"Tyr is teaching me a lot." It won't do any good, but I have to try.

"You've outgrown him," Father scoffs, giving a pointed look to Tyr's unconscious form. "I'll have him replaced. Think nothing of it."

I nod, biting my tongue. You'd think there's no point in even having a trainer since I've been fighting even before I could walk. I could lead the Areian armies better than even he, but Father is too proud to say it. In his mind, I'll always be the six year old girl who cried every time she got hit. But I'm stronger now. Better. Ready to take hold of my future.