Anik dropped his head and shook it, and Ren thought he saw the slightest hint of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth before he placed his sword down on the grass and straightened up. “All right then, castle boy. Take off your boots.”

Going barefoot felt odd. Based on Anik's explanation, it had something to do with being connected to the earth. Ren wasn't sure he felt connected to anything as he lifted one foot off the ground, wobbled, and took a large, awkward step forward to keep from falling. He felt ridiculous. He most likely looked ridiculous, too.

Anik looked graceful and strong as he demonstrated the motions and positions beside him, but Ren honestly wasn't sure what this exercise had to do with getting better at sword fighting. He felt like a drunk, one-legged goose, and he kept forgetting to breathe in that strange way Anik insisted he should.

Anik nudged him in the back, urging him to straighten up, widen his stance, move more confidently, all while training Ren with that icy glare of disapproval that sometimes mixed with amusement when Ren made a fool of himself. After twenty minutes, Ren was sweating like a pig. It was surprising how taxing it could be to move so slowly. Next to him, Anik looked like he had barely exerted himself at all, loose-limbed and calm, his cheeks flushed like he had just woken up from a pleasant nap.

“I thought this was supposed to make me better at sword fighting,” Ren said, glancing at their untouched weapons as he stole a moment to rest, hands braced on his thighs.

“You have to crawl before you can walk. I told you, you're better off sticking to what you know.” Anik leaned his naked back against a tree, watching Ren brush his sweat-damp hair back from his forehead. Ren got the distinct feeling that Anik had only indulged him in the first place so he could watch him make a complete fool of himself.

But Anik's expression wasn't mocking. It wasn't even displeased. Maybe he really was in a good mood. With Anik, it was always hard to tell. To Ren's relief, Anik didn't make to continue the training and Ren took it as his cue to relax.

“Really,” Ren began. He sat down on the grass, stretching out his legs. He winced when the tendons along the undersides of his knees burned. “Where did you learn this?” He looked up at Anik, but the Lowlander wasn't looking at him, but at the distant treeline. Ren knew he was watching for danger. Anik's hand came up, fingertips stroking ever so lightly over the dip of his throat like he was fiddling with an invisible necklace. Ren had seen him do it once before, but wasn't sure what it meant. The silence stretched on and Ren almost gave up on receiving an answer, but then Anik spoke again.

“The village blacksmith taught me.”

Ren blinked. “No.”