Beyond Redemption
Until the shaking in my hands eased.
“Good,” Edward murmured. “Now strike.”
I swung the staff, slow at first, then faster as he guided me through a series of movements—strikes, blocks, pivots. The staff felt awkward in my hands at first, but with each pass, it became lighter, more natural.
“Again,” he said. “Faster.”
I struck harder. The air hissed as the staff cut through it. My pulse quickened, sweat sliding down my temple.
“Now breathe,” Edward reminded me.
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