Chapter 16: Not so Scrawny

Chapter 16: Not so Scrawny

'Home' was a well-appointed cave that belonged to Rivulet-Abides and Clay-Watches.

"You're late," Rivulet grumbled. "You think I don't have anything better to do with my time than lounge around like a slug?"

"Sorry, cavemother," Fleck said. "We were talking to Meemaw Mist. Well, he was talking, I was waiting outside for him to finish talking, so I wasn't talking--"

"For once," Rivulet said.

"I like the sound of your voice," Clay called, stepping in from a passageway.

He showed Eli where he'd sleep--in a chamber with the other three--then fluttered around asking if he needed more food, or rest, or clothing.

"He needs to train," Rivulet told Clay. "And you need to make yourself useful."

"C'mon," Yellow said, shouldering past Eli. "Let's see if you learned anything."

She started leading him away, with Lichen and Fleck following, then Rivulet called, "Cloaked-in-Meekness!"

Eli looked behind himself without moving his head, using the spark--and saw her weighing a spear in one hand, like she was preparing to throw it at him.

"Use this," she said, when he turned. "Mist-Beneath says you're going among the humans and should practice with their tools."

"Finally," he said.

She tossed them the spear and scowled. "Go on, then."

"Thanks."

"You're still here."

Still, Eli needed to think differently. He needed to focus on the stray bits of milita training he still remembered. So after getting half-gutted in the next spar, he spent the night sleeping and healing, then woke early to a stomachache and a bouquet of 'apology flowers' from Fleck, and started working through militia exercises.

For the next few days, he spent two hours every morning and two every evening training alone. Fortunately, his troll blood healed exhaustion. At least for him. Real trolls slept plenty. Pretty soon, he felt his half-remembered training starting to integrate with his new body. He practiced with a sword Rivulet found for him, both with a buckler and an off-hand dagger. He even practiced with a stone club.

He stayed on the fringes of the brawls, using his speed and awareness to dodge and strike before retreating. He did more to distract than damage his new siblings, through ... which gave him an idea.

"Let's try fighting in pairs," he said, while the others paused to let Lichen regenerate his bitten-off toes.

"Me and you together!" Fleck said, after swallowing.

"Me and him together," Yellow said. "That'll be more fun. Best and worst on the same side."

The rest of that day, Eli and Yellow fought together. They lost every time. But the day after that, Yellow started defending Eli, taking the blows while Eli stayed behind her, his spear flicking like a snake's tongue to slice an eye or a hamstring or wrist.

That day, they gave as good as they got.

"Are you all getting bigger?" he asked, during a break.

"We're not the only ones," Lichen said. "You're not so scrawny anymore."

"Time to fight one-on-one!" Fleck announced.

Even after over a fiveday of intensive training, Eli couldn't beat any of them in a solo fight. Still, he occasionally managed to fight them to a standstill, like when he planted a spear in Lichen's stomach to keep him at a distance then carved him up with a sword. He changed strategies for his next fight. He didn't tire much anymore, so he danced around Yellow, slicing at her with his longest one-handed sword--which would've counted as two-handed sword for him, a few months earlier--and waiting for a chance to throw his net at her. Which trapped her while he slashed the backs of her knees. Which she hated, which made him laugh, even after she tore free and chased him through the tunnels.

After a tenday, he could hold his own half the time. He still never won. He simply couldn't damage them quickly enough. But he stayed in the fights.

At least against juvenile trolls.

Then Armored-in-Frost stepped into the sparring circle.