1: Finding the target

"Ulana, keep your eye on the spearhead!" he barks. I am! Why does he yell? I'll master this. I'll show him I can do it. Here comes the sweep to deflect...the drawback...the lunge comes but I have lost it again as he pulls back. It strikes me on the left when I expected the right like the last three lunges. The dull point jabs painfully at my shoulder, sure to leave a bruise, and I end again on my backside. I feel the burn from the flesh on my elbows breaking the fall. Worse yet tears form in my eyes and I know he can see them. I turn over as I climb up to hide my shame. "We can resume tomorrow" father says. I refuse to answer, worried my voice will crack. Gripping my spear I take back my stance with my chin down. I feel my anger holding my brow down as my lips purse into a thin line pulled back over a set jaw.
I hear him sigh. He takes longer than normal to begin the maneuvers this time. I'll show you I can do this. I dig my back sandal spikes into the ground further setting my weight against it. Here he goes. One strike, two, three, NO DUCK, four...he is changing and the blows are pulled. Why is he changing? THERE it is...deflect...drawback lunge will come... I pivot on the opposite foot and feel the point scrap over my arm guard as I deflect it and press the pole forward. Contact! I burst with a sob of relief quickly covered by a sharp laughter. I pull back on the pole pressed into his leather breastplate. I don't know what I would have done if I had missed yet again and he had ended our session.
The congratulations don't come. My eyes open and I search for his face. Is he mad that I choose my own maneuver? That isn't fair! He changed the routine. My move worked though! My anger covering past shame keeps my jaw pressed tight though as I hide it with a smile of victory. "Your eyes were closed for the strike." My heart sinks. I leap in my mind for a defense but I'm lost at the concern in his voice. Why? Doesn't he think I can do this?
He kneels and draws me close ,overcoming my initial strength to stand my ground, looking into my eyes. I see his sharp features soften as he looks at me as if looking into my soul to see what's broken or wrong but his brow if furrowed in concern. I can't help flinch unsure of myself. But I keep the smile pressed as I grind my teeth. He can't say I failed. He wont. "I struck you I'm sure" I tell him. He breaths deep and nods once. "Ulana... Qinris said you have taken to the Javelin like none he has seen this season in the last few days. He mentioned that you took your own form there also. Would you show me please?"
 
A few minutes later we are at the reed bundles. I feel the weight of the heavy pole longer than my arm span and feel for the balance point. Father is watching and standing much closer than normal. I feel a knot in the pit of my stomach. "Go ahead. Throw like you have for Qinris the last few days. Your form does not matter." I'm not sure if he really cares or not and take in a deep breath preparing to let him down. I take a breath and pull my left foot forward to the right exposing my left flank to the reeds and look up once more for his expression. He just nods his heavy head toward the wall down range. I glance once more at the mark over my shoulder.
There is a thud as the javelin finds the wooden buckler. "again" he says calmly after the first two without comment. I'm sure he is disappointed but refuse to let me shoulders drop and set my jaw again. I check over my shoulder before spinning faster and harder this time exhaling as I put all of my frustration into the shaft and let it loose. I grin as I hear the blow not just impact the buckler but break it clean... I imagine in two right down the middle. I smile up at father and he is smiling but still with a heavy brow. I run forward to the target to examine it. A rush of excitement "hahaha I broke it in HALF" I yell holding it up for him to see. I walk my prize back still holding back giggles but unable to shake the knot in my stomach.
He takes the pieces in his hand. "well done" he says, but I can't read the emotion. Is he proud or not? He sets the two halves aside. I expect him to reach a great hand down to tousle my hair as he often does when he is proud of me but he doesn't. He again bends down to my level and looks me in the eye with his heavy hands on my shoulders. I turn my head to the right some and study he is face. I see he isn't mad... but I see sadness. WHY? Doesn't it just matter that I hit the target? I can't prevent my shoulders dropping as I feel the shame wash back over. I know he feels it. He pulls me in to the warmth of his chest in an embrace. "Oh my girl, I'm sorry" he says. The sadness I hear in his voice strikes deep and I feel anger well again. NO! I keep my arms locked tight at my side refusing to hug him back as the anger builds. He lets me loose and I keep my head down so he can't see my tears as I break and run casting the harness aside and ducking through the door to make for the wood.
 
Returning late I see the watch tower shadows nod acknowledgement as I return to the dark fortress. I make quietly to our quarter of the third hall. I can hear them faintly near the kitchen. "But she will miss so much. How will she get by if it progresses? She won't be able to keep up. She will miss so much" mother says. "No, we wont fill her with pity. Her path will be different. But she must learn to rise above it and remain outside of herself". There is angst in mothers voice and she seems to be sinking into despair. Father is trying to comfort her and I see him embrace her. He has told her I have failed the lessons already. They wont allow me to continue. They will surely say I don't take it seriously enough. I feel how sore my jaw is from clenching the last few hours as it sets on its own again and I feel tears come stronger now that I'm exhausted. I make my way to my room and pull the blanket over my head burring my face in the cloth trying to hold back the waves of failure and fear.