Gaelira remained in the center of the courtyard while the other students formed a circle around her and the professor.
Garrick Rook still had not drawn the sword at his waist.
He did not seem to take a defensive stance either. One arm remained behind his back while the other rested loosely at his side, as if the previous demonstration had required no effort at all.
The six bells in his braid hung in perfect silence, waiting for Gaelira to try reaching one without the distraction Clarke had provided.
"Whenever you're ready," Rook said.
Gaelira adjusted both hands around the wooden sword and mentally reconstructed her previous movement.
She had advanced while taking advantage of the moment Rook turned to avoid Clarke's attack, but the movement itself was not complicated.
She only needed to push off with her back leg, extend her step, and drive the tip of the weapon toward the lowest bell before the professor could move away.
She had practiced similar movements hundreds of times on Earth, first during demonstrations and later in matches against other members of the club.
'I can do it without her.'
Gaelira moved forward with all the speed she could gather. Her first step was firm, but the second stretched farther than her legs could handle.
Her front knee trembled under her weight and her hips remained too far back to support the attack.
She tried to correct her posture while extending the sword, but Rook only needed to move a few centimeters to avoid it.
Gaelira passed beside him, planted one foot in the wrong position, and ended up falling onto one knee.
A few students laughed. It was not as cruel as the murmurs she had heard in Fundamentals of Magic, but it was enough to make her face grow warm.
Gaelira pressed the sword against the ground and stood before anyone could approach to help her.
The impact had not been serious, but a sharp pain began spreading from her thigh to her lower back.
"An impressive execution," Clarke commented from the circle. "The bell must have been terrified."
Gaelira brushed the dust from her stocking and looked at her. "You can try it if it looks so easy."
"I already managed to force him back."
"And still, none of the bells rang."
Clarke frowned, but Rook raised a hand before the argument could continue. "Veyr, repeat it. This time, don't focus on reaching me. Focus on finishing the movement without falling." The source of this chapter is g.com.
Gaelira returned to the starting position. The instruction sounded simple, but her body no longer responded the way she expected.
During her previous life, she had developed enough strength in her legs to push forward without thinking about every movement.
The old Gaelira, on the other hand, seemed to have avoided anything that might make her sweat.
Her legs were lighter and faster, but they also lacked the stability needed to stop after sudden acceleration.
She tried again. She reduced her speed slightly, although she still extended the final step too far.
This time she did not fall, but she had to move her back foot to recover her balance. Rook avoided the sword so easily that the bells did not even sway.
"Your problem isn't technique," the professor explained. "You're trying to reproduce a movement your body can't complete at that speed."
Gaelira lowered the weapon while catching her breath. She had only made two attempts and could already feel the tension in her legs. "I can do it. I just need to get used to it."
"That's what you said before you fell," Clarke interrupted.
Gaelira expected another mockery, but Clarke left the circle and approached with her sword resting on one shoulder.
She stopped in front of her, looked at the position of her feet, and lightly tapped the inside of her ankle with the tip of the wooden weapon. The gesture made Gaelira bring her legs slightly closer together.
"Your first step is too long," Clarke pointed out. "If you start like that, the next one takes all your weight and you lose control before you attack."
"I didn't do it that way during the duel."
"During the duel, you were reacting. Now you have time to think, and you're making it more complicated."
Gaelira almost answered, but recognized some truth in her words.
While fighting Clarke, she had trusted the reflexes built over years.
In front of Rook, she was trying to force her new body to imitate exactly the stance she remembered, without considering that the length of her legs, her weight, and her center of gravity were different.
Clarke stood beside her and took the same position. Instead of pushing forward with one long step, she made two shorter movements and extended the sword without allowing her shoulders to move past her front knee.
The movement had less reach than Gaelira's, but it ended with both feet firmly planted.
"Close the distance before you accelerate," Clarke explained as she returned. "You don't need to cross the whole courtyard in one step."
"I thought you only wanted to make fun of me."
Clarke looked away and tucked a white strand behind her ear. "I was making fun of you. But if you fall like that again, everyone will think my defeat was even more embarrassing." This chapter was taken from novelping . com without permission.
Gaelira smiled despite herself. "So you're doing it for your reputation."
"Exactly. Don't misunderstand."
Gaelira repeated the stance Clarke had shown her.
At first, the shorter steps felt unnecessarily cautious, but they allowed her to approach without placing all her weight on one leg.
She accelerated only during the final movement and extended the sword.
Rook avoided it again, although this time Gaelira managed to stop without stumbling. One of the bells moved from the current of air created by the weapon, but remained silent.
"Better," Rook acknowledged.
Clarke crossed her arms with a satisfied expression she tried to hide when Gaelira looked at her.
Octavia also seemed to relax among the Thornheart students, while Bellamie raised a thumb from the opposite side of the circle.
The small approval felt good, but Gaelira could still feel the growing discomfort in her muscles. She had corrected her stance, not the exhaustion building with every attempt.
Rook ordered her to repeat the movement several times. During the first few, she managed to keep her balance and move closer each time, but her breathing began to grow heavy.
By the sixth attempt, her legs were burning. On the seventh, the tip of the sword dropped before reaching its target. When she began the eighth, her back foot failed to produce enough force and Rook caught the weapon with one hand.
Gaelira pulled, but the professor did not release it. "How many more attempts were you planning to make?"
"As many as necessary to reach a bell."
"With every one, you get slower."
Gaelira clenched her teeth. Her knowledge was still there, but it was not enough. She could recognize openings, anticipate movements, and perform techniques the other beginners had not learned yet.
However, this body had never developed the strength needed to maintain them during a prolonged fight.
If she ignored that difference, her own experience could become a disadvantage.
Rook finally released the sword and pointed toward her exhausted stance. "You know how to use a sword, Veyr. But if you continue like this, you'll end up defeating yourself."