The sun was still low when Lin walked into the dojo, her feet crunching on the gravel. The air was cool, and the soft sounds of the morning made everything feel calm. But Lin’s mind? Not so much.
She stood in front of the wooden practice dummies, stretching her arms and getting her swords ready. Her uncle, the monk, was watching from the side. He was always there, always calm, always knowing exactly when to say something and when to stay quiet. He didn’t push her too hard, but she knew he was always watching, expecting her to do her best.
“Lin,” he called, his voice soft but serious. “Show me your form today.”
She nodded, taking a deep breath. She had been training with him for years. Since she was little. And she knew what he expected. It wasn’t just about the swords; it was about balance, control, and focus. She’d learned that the hard way. After everything that happened to her family, training was one of the few things that helped her stay grounded.
She grabbed the two swords, feeling their weight as she twirled them in her hands. The metal glinted in the soft light. She moved into position, taking the stance her uncle had taught her, keeping her feet steady and her body low. The movements were slow at first, just getting into the rhythm. But once she felt the flow, she began to speed up.
Her uncle didn’t say anything at first. He was always quiet when she practiced. But she could feel his eyes on her, watching every move.
She cut through the air, fast and sharp. Each strike was smoother than the last, more natural. She wasn’t thinking; she was just moving. The swords felt like part of her now, and with each swing, she felt a little stronger, a little more confident. The silence around her made the whole thing feel like a dance. It was just her, the swords, and the empty dojo.
She paused, breathing hard, her arms aching. The sweat dripped down her forehead, but she didn’t stop. She took another deep breath and got back to it.
She had cut all three dummies successfully.
Her uncle clapped from the side. It was soft, but it made her smile. He never gave her praise unless it was earned, and today, she felt like she earned it.
“You’re improving,” he said, stepping forward. “But remember, it’s not just about the fight. It’s about what you do after.”
She stopped, a little confused. “What do you mean?”
He tilted his head slightly, his calm gaze meeting hers. “You need to control your emotions. The battle is won before it even starts. The moment you lose your focus, you lose everything.”
Lin nodded, even though she wasn’t entirely sure what he meant. Her uncle had always been like that, saying things that sounded simple but were way deeper than they seemed. He never talked much about her father, but Lin knew enough to understand that her uncle had seen things. Things that changed him.
“I’ll remember,” she said, even though a part of her wasn’t so sure. She didn’t think about losing control. She didn’t think about much except the fight. But her uncle’s words stuck with her like they always did.
“You will,” he said with a soft smile. “Now, again. But this time, with your mind clear.”
Lin took her stance again. The world around her seemed to disappear as she focused. Her uncle was right about one thing: the fight wasn’t just with the sword. It was with her mind, her heart. She could feel it in her chest.
She swung the swords again, faster this time. Her mind was clearer, and the movements felt more natural, more powerful. Her uncle’s lessons always stuck with her, even when she didn’t understand them at first.
As she finished her routine, Lin stood still, catching her breath. Her uncle didn’t say anything, just gave her that quiet nod of approval. She smiled, a small, rare thing. He didn’t show much emotion, but she could always tell when he was proud.
It wasn’t about the fight anymore. It was about learning who she was, and the rest would come.
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