Dirt clung along the inside of the woven branches, held in place by roots and fibrous materials, letting ferns and root vegetables peak through the crisscrossing strips. The tunnel was lit by small blue lights dotting the branches, twisting and turning until darkness consumed it. The deeper inside they went, the less the morning light reached them, until only the soft blue lights and haunting melody guided them. They stopped when the melody jittered, a false note bringing the music to an end.

“Very close, Oro.” Ulric’s voice echoed throughout the tunnel. “Seelie songs are hard to learn and harder to master. You’ve made great progress.”

When the group turned a corner, the tunnel opened to a grassy clearing surrounded by fruit trees that clung to the walls. Their branches reached out, desperately growing over one another to catch a bit of the light in the opening above. The meager beam of light landed in the center of the clearing, illuminating the dew that settled on the grass that morning. Ulric was leaning on a branch, whittling away as he watched Oro reorient his fingers on his flute.

“Don’t understand how this’ll help me fight that damned deer.” Oro grumbled.

“Meeting a fae with force is how you lose.” Ulric shook his head with a sigh. “To understand something, you must first learn to speak its language. And understanding the motives, the thoughts, what it means with every word…assures a bloodless victory.”

“Faulks don’t seek bloodless victories.” Oro said haughtily.

“We seek absolute victory.” Ulric nodded. “And what better victory is there than making a reluctant enemy an ally?” Ulric’s half-lidded eyes closed. “We have visitors.”

He jumped down from the branch with a thump. Oro turned around, eyes widening when he recognized Rael and Azmond. Oro smiled nervously and waved, Az giggling and waving back. The young raider’s expression fell when Rael simply nodded in his direction. He tentatively stepped aside to let the group approach Ulric, pacing in place.

“Teachin’ my crew how to play flute?” Kip rose an eyebrow.

“Oro needs help with a fae. My experiences as a shaman’s apprentice make me knowledgeable in the subject.” Ulric stroked his goatee. “I don’t intend to poach a member of your crew.”

“Oro, why didn’t ya ask Bak?”

“Sorry, Captain.” Oro saluted. “Shaman Bak said that it was between me and the deer. He’s the one who recommended Ulric teach me Seelie music to try and communicate.” He squirmed nervously. “I still don’t know how I’m supposed to put ‘feeling’ into it.”

“Hmmm.” Kip squinted at Oro and Ulric. “Ach, fine. ‘S not like Ulric’s Prima.” He spat the name as he shrugged. “Rael and Az were wondering what else they could do at Stone Circle, ‘least ‘til the Jarls are done.”

Ulric closed his eyes as his fingers pulled at his moustache.

“You could learn from the shamans about alchemy, or from the best Faulk smiths about metallurgy. You could look at the ancient boulders that mark the Stone Circle, or even chance another look at a Dragonneedle. Considering you experience with fae, I would even consider going to the forests of the west to speak to the fae there.” He was twisting his moustache into knots, jaw moving as if ruminating the words that were to come from his mouth.

“But?” Rael could hear the unsaid word on the tip of Ulric’s tongue.

“You are involved now. Politically.” Ulric finally said, the words weighing on Rael’s spirit. “You will be challenged. And while Shieldmaiden Edith and Captain Derrol are incredible fighters, they are not so good at teaching. They rely on instincts from years of training under their parents, as most of the greatest Faulk warriors do. They teach you as their parents taught them: enthusiastically, brutally, but not clearly.”

“I have instincts.” Rael asserted.

“Not your instincts.” Ulric shook his head. “And your body knows it. It’s why you feel uncomfortable wielding an axe or a spear. Dragonward Bjorn was a giant of a man, with far greater reach than you. And while your frame is closer to that of Dragonward Ruen’s, you still move as if you had a different center of mass.”

Rael clenched their teeth. Ulric was right. Whenever they’d spar with Edith, they’d fall into familiar movements that would inevitably backfire when they’d lose their balance or send a blow too wide.

“Which is why we’ll go over the basics before you spar in public.” The captain waved Oro and Rael closer. Rael kneeled to let Azmond down and walked tentatively towards Ulric. The captain gently moved them at arm’s length away from each other. “Azmond, you may want to pay attention. Kip don’t wander off; you need a good handle on the fundamentals. Yana…do whatever you like.”

Kip rolled his eyes, sitting down next to an enraptured Azmond. Yana sat behind Azmond and began picking out fibers that he’d put in his hair when Rael wasn’t looking. She was hiding a devilish smile behind Azmond’s head. Ulric moved the limbs of the two youths into position until their legs were firmly on the ground, their right legs in front of their left. Their arms were pulled up parallel to each other and their chests, fists clenched. Ulric walked around them, his arm pushing against them to test their balance. When Oro and Rael were firm enough that his pushes did not move them, Ulric nodded.

“What is it that separates us from beasts?” Ulric asked as he prowled around them.

“…Two legs?” Oro’s answer was unsure, careful to keep from looking directly to Rael on his right.

“Technically, yes.” Ulric chuckled, a gleam in his eyes sparking as he twirled his blond moustache. “Though birds share that trait. But where they have wings, we have hands. Which means tools and weapons. In return, we can more easily be unbalanced. On the ground, we are vulnerable. Which is why your posture, or stance, is so important. The right stance could be the difference between victory and defeat, between glory and death.”

He slowly moved their feet closer together. When Ulric was satisfied, he pushed them on their shoulders, sending Rael and Oro stumbling backwards. Oro’s foot caught in a root, sending the young man tumbling to the ground. Rael caught him by the arm before he could fall flat, pulling him back up. Oro smiled nervously and nodded in appreciation.

“We’ll go over stances in a bit.” The older captain ignored Kip’s yawn of boredom and continued. “We need to discuss the three options you have in combat. Attack, defense, and movement. There are entire schools of thought on how to best attack, how to best defend, or how to best move in a fight. Since neither of you are skalds or shamans, I’m going to skip that part and focus on the most important part.”

He stood in front of his students and got into a low stance. All at once, his body moved forwards, his fist exploding between the Rael and Oro.

“Notice how I put not just my arm into that swing, but my shoulder, back, and legs as well.” Rael was stunned. That was a haymaker that would have knocked them to the ground, proper position or not. “But do either of you see what’s wrong?”

Rael and Oro blinked a few times, looking over Ulric a few times. He was still in position, his fist hanging ominously between their heads, his wide back hunched over and head close to his body.

“Your sides are undefended.” Rael realized. “I could punch you in the liver, easy.”

Ulric chuckled ominously. “Maybe not as easy as you think, but yes. No matter how perfect my punch, if I miss, it’s an opening. You know that better than anyone, Rael.”

Rael sighed, phantom aches and pains tickling them from all the times they thought they’d landed a good hit on Derrol and Edith.

“That brings up another important point: where to hit.” Ulric got out of position and stepped back, pointing to his body parts as he called them out. “Chin, nose, groin and gut are good places to hit an enemy. A well-aimed strike could confuse an enemy or even stun them. Kidneys or liver work even better but are a bit harder to hit. If you’re aiming for deathblows, go for the head, the throat, and the heart.”

He moved behind Oro, articulating him into moving in different poses as he hovered his hand over the vulnerable spots. Ulric whispered in his ear as he moved him around, the young man’s movements becoming smoother and smoother. When he let go, Oro repeated the motions, his face stern in concentration. Ulric moved behind Rael, his hands hovering in the same spots.

“You’ve only fought to the death with beasts.” He whispered. “Like a true berserker, you’ve ripped into them without care for your safety, without any sense of moderation.” Ulric moved Rael’s limbs gently until they could replicate the stances. “It may have worked so far, but skilled fighters will be aiming for the places I’ve showed you.” His fingers pinched the nape of Rael’s neck. “They’d wait for you to make a mistake, or worse, tire. Then strike. You can’t rush in on wings of fury and expect to win.”

He stood back and watched as his students moved in tandem. “Get used to those poses. Spells can only take you so far before they start killing you. Victory is achieved in the first steps of battle. Speed, accuracy, power, all are dependent on a solid foundation. Quality of weapons, armor, and spells fall short before a seasoned warrior in full control of their body. Such a warrior could even use the environment around them as a tool against their enemies.”

He sent two arms thrusting into Rael and Oro’s chests, stumbling backwards again and tripping over the root. This time, both landed on the grass in a tangle of limbs. Azmond’s applause was drowned out by Kip’s hearty laughter. Rael ignored Oro’s repeated, almost panicked, apologies and sat up.

“Despite the talking, I'm sensing a familiarity to how Derrol and Edith teach.”

“Well,” Ulric’s gentle smile widened as he kneeled by the two. “I’m only Faulk.”