Chapter 86: Balance

Charon ducked under Wallflower’s scythe, the blade whizzing inches above his nose. She spun into a kick that slammed into his chest, forcing him back a few paces. He grunted from the pain but remained standing, a result that earned him an approving nod, albeit a curt one. The reason for the attack was the next important step in using a scythe, according to Wallflower: balance. "Control is the goal, which we have gone over. The next step will be learning how to flow that control into everything else you do, which can only be done with proper balance." She tapped him on the chest, his body wobbling backwards as he struggled not to fall. "A scythe is an unwieldy weapon, as heavy as it is unbalanced to one side. You must master using it without sacrificing your stance. Falling on the battlefield is tantamount to suicide." She had then launched into a new exercise where she would constantly force him into precarious situations, hoping to push him off balance and knock him on his ass. Every time he failed, she made him do a bunch of exercises, just like the first "lesson." Charon braced himself, anticipating the next blow. Wallflower didn’t disappoint. She lunged forward, sweeping the butt of her scythe in a low arc. He jumped it, barely, but when his foot landed, she twisted and brought the blade around in a diagonal swipe. He spun to avoid it just in time, stumbling on the landing. His shoe scraped against the mat as he tried to regain his footing, and in that moment of weakness, she surged in. Her knee slammed into his stomach, forcing him down onto one of his own, coughing all the while. "You lasted two moves that time. Better than one, yet still not where you need to be to survive a true engagement." He glared at her between gulps of air, his lungs burning from exertion. "Are you... always... this charming... with your students?" "I wouldn’t know. You are the first I have taken. He must have taken a liking to you." Charon instinctively knew who she was referring to: The Announcer. Over the two sessions, he had probed her about the man, but she always avoided the question, focusing instead on trying to gravely injure him. He groaned and stood, sweat dripping from his temple. His arms ached from holding the heavy weapon for an hour, and his legs burned from the endless lunges and evasions he was forced to endure. And yet, he sallied forth, unwilling to make her win so easily. ’Maybe it’s my pride. I don’t care. At first, I felt bad for her, now I just want to wipe every gods damned look off her face. It’s like her tears are mocking me!’ She stared at him with those solemn eyes of hers and jerked his chin downward. "Again." This time, he was a little more prepared for the feint. She moved as before, sweeping low, but he didn’t jump. Instead, he stepped sideways, pivoting with the motion, and used his arm to parry the pole before it could be used to trip him. His arm shook from the impact, his bone vibrating at a speed he didn’t particularly enjoy. Gritting his teeth, he ignored it, pouring his attention into the blade coming down at him again. He ducked it and stepped into her guard, too close for a strike. His shoulder slammed into her chest, throwing her back and giving him a much-needed victory! At least, that was the plan. Rather than staying still, Wallflower flowed with his attack, backpedaling at an equal speed to his forward assault. The momentum combined with a lack of a barrier caused him to become his own worst enemy, his feet tripping over themselves as he cascaded to the ground in an undignified lump. She stood over him and shook her head. "You are learning, but you are moving too fast for your own good. You are attempting to anticipate my movements when you have not perfected your own. It leaves you vulnerable, predictable. A child could see what you were trying." He spat to clean his mouth of blood, it landing at the edge of the mats with a small splat. Wallflower glanced at it, the corner of her lips curling in disgust, but she didn’t comment. "Weren’t you saying I was getting good at predicting the next few actions? You told me so last time!" She tutted under her breath like a parent chastising their child. "In regards to control, yes, but balance it a trial all on its own. It is easy to know what someone will do when you lead them to it, you are not doing that. Today, your goal is to remain in control of yourself, not your opponent." Wallflower steadied her scythe and leaned against it. "You are trying to master chess while on a sinking boat. Strategy is useless if you can not keep your footing. Master balance first, then learn to move the pieces." Charon considered her words closely, the analogy helping make it easier to comprehend. ’She is telling me to slow down and do things one at a time. I understand why, it makes logical sense, and yet I feel like I can do more.’ He reflected on his most recent embarrassment and reconsidered. ’Or is that my ego speaking? I need to remember that I am not a master of the scythe yet, just a student. I can’t let my own grand notions of myself cloud my ability to learn.’ Wallflower seemed to notice his internal struggle, waiting patiently for him to finalize his thoughts before continuing. "It is good of you to reflect. A fighting style is not just built on a foundation of muscles and strength, but memory and understanding as well. If you can internalize all of these lessons, you may be a scythe wielder yet." She ended her words with a coy tone that clashed with the melancholy shimmer in her gaze. "However, you still seem to struggle with balance, so we shall take a different approach." Moving towards the racks along the wall, Wallflower ignored the weapons and instead grabbed two small metal cubes. Withdrawing a holo-pad from a pocket, she held it above both of the items and clicked a few buttons. Her arms began to sag slightly, but she maintained her grip, dropping the cubes into a leather satchel before picking it up and handing it to Charon. "Tie this around your waist." Taking it, his eyes shot open as he staggered forward, the weight of the bag far greater than he expected. "What the gods are these things?" "Training weights. I can adjust their density at will, making them lighter or heavier with a touch. You will run the perimeter of the room with these. It will teach you how to fight a force pulling you to the side." She looked him up and down. "It might also improve your cardio. Won’t hurt, at the very least." Grunting in disapproval, he looped the satchel’s cords around his belt and leaned back, his hips lurching forward with the strain. ’Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse.’ The added weight made every step a conscious decision rather than muscle memory. He rolled his shoulders to try and adjust himself, but it just made it worse, his heels leaving the ground as he tipped forward. Wallflower pushed him back with her pointer finger, a surprising amount of strength in the touch. "Now, you may begin to walk the perimeter. Take tight turns, shift your posture, and stay fluid. Anything else, and you will fall. Many, many times." "And if I fall?" She gave a soft grin. "Then I get to see you do push-ups with the training weights. I can tell you from experience, it is not a fun experience." Sighing to relieve his pain, he slowly turned around, taking a few steps to test things out. ’Gods be good, it’s like simultaneously walking through quicksand while an elephant is trying to drag me deeper into it!’ Just as he had managed the first few, Wallflower called out to him. "Oh, and don’t forget your scythe." He froze, his neck creaking as it spun to face the spot where he had dropped it earlier when he fell. "I wouldn’t want you having it too easy, now would I? Remember to keep it in your hands at all times. If you drop it, you’ll be doing pushups."