Minah | Training

We spent the next few months following a similar routine. I would wake up, make breakfast and take care of daily chores in the morning. By noon Sae would come back with fresh game and we would clean it and extract the manastones. After a light meal I would join her in hand to hand combat and weapons training, doing my best to keep pace while she sprinkled a few tips here and there. By nightfall I was exhausted and Sae would handle dinner.

This morning was different.

I heard Sae in the back, being curious I stepped out to see what she was up to.

“Hey Minah, today we are going to find out how good you are with a bow.”

I looked around and noticed that she had set up a variety of targets.

“I’ve been spending some time learning how to hunt with one eye— it sure was harder than I originally thought but I think I worked it out.”

“Huh? You’ve been practicing with one eye? Why would you go that far?” I asked, stunned. I’d always wondered—quietly, secretly—how I’d ever manage to do the things Sae could, with my vision the way it was.

But she just waved the comment off. “Don’t worry about it. Come here.”

I walked over as she gestured, and she handed me the bow.

“Minah, before we get to anything fancy, we need to cover the basics.”

And with that, we spent the rest of the morning going over everything—how to hold the bow, how to stand, how to nock an arrow properly, how to draw without wasting energy, and how to aim without relying too much on sight.

After lunch I followed her on a hunt only this time I was holding the bow. Maneuvering through the forest took on a new level of complexity.

She stopped and got close. I saw it. Off in the distance was a large hog-like creature.

“Minah draw your bow like we practiced.” While I was readying the shot she placed her palm on my back. I felt it. Warm. Gentle.

“Aim and take the shot.” Briefly, my vision changed. I could see the manastone glowing inside the creature. I let the arrow go.

Thud—crack—skrrrch. Then the hog screamed, high and ragged, before crashing into the brush.

Sae took off while I was spellbound. I made my first kill. After I snapped out of it I followed her toward the bushes where the creature lay.

“Not bad, this is a big catch— I’ll take care of bleeding it out, can you find a branch we can use to carry it back?” I nodded trying to hide the smile from my face.

A familiar energy hummed through me, the same feeling I’d had before, stirring from a place deep inside. My oud. I knew, somehow, that’s what it was. I’d have to ask her about it later.

The hog was heavy. We had to stop several times as I could not fully handle the weight even with Sae’s help. As we got closer I could make out the figure of a girl waving back at us with the sun on her back.

“Itzel?” I murmured to myself.

Sae began waving back and the girl began running towards us. Once she got close enough for us to hear she said “I just got here. Nayeli wanted me to pass along a message.”

Sae looked at Itzel and, ignoring what she said, just blurted out. “Look at this hog that Minah caught on her first try.”

Itzel’s eyes lit up. “Minah —WHAT— THAT’S INCREDIBLE!” I smiled at her, not sure what to say. She followed us back to the cabin and I left the hog with Sae. I quickly washed up and changed into lighter clothes. In the background I could hear and smell Itzel’s cooking.

I offered to help and she shooed me out of the kitchen. “Minah, you’ve been running around all day, don’t worry I got this.”, she said while pointing at her flexed bicep.

“So how have things been Minah?” I paused, wanting to give her an honest answer.

“It’s hard but Sae is treating me well.”

“That’s good to hear— Minah, I have a message for you as well.”

“Huh?” I was not expecting that. Who would leave a message with her for me? She left the pot boiling and walked over to her bag in the other room. She dug through it a bit and pulled out a small envelope and walked over and handed it to me.

The first thing I noticed was the quality of the paper. It was thick and the color of milk. There was a crest drawn on the center in silver embroidery.

I was not familiar with the symbol but right away I could tell that this was from someone important.

“Minah, go on and open it.”

Minah,

I hope you’re okay. Itzel gave me the address to her home in Nala, so I wanted to write and try sending this to you. I don’t know if it will reach you, but I hope it does.

My uncle was really surprised when I told him about Tamuri. He said it was impossible. Then he got really quiet. I think he believes me now, but I don’t think he knows what to do about it. There’s been lots of talk in the city—people whispering about missing villages and the Silent Choir sending scouts farther south.

My arm still hurts sometimes, but I’m allowed to keep practicing sword swings. Sae gave me good advice. I try to remember it when I get tired. There’s no one my age here. The house is too big and quiet. I miss how we would get into trouble together.

I have a tutor now. He’s not mean, but he talks a lot. He’s teaching me about the capital and how trade works. He says the empire is falling apart and that it’s doing “whatever it takes” to build an army. He says they’re recruiting from everywhere, even places they aren’t supposed to. He also said there’ve been monster attacks inside the city. I haven’t seen one, but people are scared. There’s more guards at the gates now.

I pray to the gods that you’re safe. I haven’t stopped thinking about what they did to our village. I swear I’ll get stronger. I’ll find them, Minah. One day.

Please write back. Even just a line.

—Yun

P.S. Aunt makes pear jam. It’s not as good as the ones we grew up with, but I eat it anyway and pretend it is. I’ve sent some over to Itzel for you guys to share.

I pressed the letter to my chest and sat down on the wooden bench, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Yun’s words echoed in my head: I haven’t stopped thinking about what they did to our village.

Neither have I. Not for a single night.

“I’m sure he misses you,” Itzel said gently, stepping closer and resting her hand on my shoulder.

Her words landed with a quiet thud in my chest, stirring a feeling I had tried so hard to bury. I missed him, too. I didn’t think I’d cry over a letter, but the ache had crept in before I could stop it. I gave a shaky laugh and wiped my eye. “Pear jam. That brings back memories.”

I stared down at the folded paper in my hands. As I was lost in thought the back door opened and Sae walked in. “Smells good— everything okay in here?”

Itzel opened her mouth first, “Yun sent us some pear jam, I’m sure it would make for a great dessert.” With her back to us she went back to watching the pot and wrapping up dinner preparations.

I composed myself and then turned to Sae. “About what happened earlier in the forest, what did you do?”

“Oh that, I just gave you a little boost. I told you I’ve been practicing myself and it didn’t take long to figure out how to use my oud to sense mana. Next time I want you to use your own oud.”

It made sense, I just wasn’t sure how I was supposed to use my own oud to do that. Yun is getting stronger, I won’t be left behind.

We wrapped up dinner together, with Itzel cheerfully carrying the conversation. She mentioned that she’d be starting school next week, and that her younger sister, Kima, would be coming by to help out around the cabin.

“School? We had a schoolhouse in the village,” I said. “Not many children went, but Yun and I were there most of the time.”

Sae chimed in, “In Nala, once you turn fifteen, you’re required to attend school—unless you’re married. That’s true in most of the major townships of the empire.”

“Does that mean your birthday’s coming up?”

Itzel smirked. “In two days. And if only someone would marry poor me before then, I wouldn’t have to attend that awful institution.”

I blinked.

“Itzel, quit fooling around. You’re confusing her,” Sae said with a sigh.

But Itzel only grinned wider. “Say, Minah, I heard Yun’s uncle is loaded. You wouldn’t mind putting in a good word for your big sis—”

Sae interrupted her with a playful chop to the head. Itzel let out a dramatic gasp and pouted, clearly unrepentant.

With that, Sae stood from the table and beckoned Itzel to the back room. I took the cue, quietly cleared the table, and began washing the dishes.

I quietly cleared the table and began washing the dishes, Itzel’s cheerful laugh still echoing in the small cabin. Her birthday was in two days. As I scrubbed the pot, my eyes fell on the jar of pear jam Yun had sent, sitting on the counter like a promise. An idea began to form, a way to say thank you that felt more real than words.

On the morning of her birthday, I woke before anyone else. Using the pear jam as the centerpiece, I did my best to recreate the skillet cake we used to eat back home, the sweet smell of it slowly filling the cabin as the sun came up.