Page 49 of The Last Guardian

She recoiled slightly, eyes widening—caught off guard by my question. For a heartbeat, she just stared, lips parting, searching for an answer that didn’t come right away.

“I…” Nefeli began, faltering. “I know what it feels like to be torn away from everything you know and love—to feel entirely alone in the world.” Her eyes flicked away before returning to mine, softer now. “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

This time, I was the one caught off guard. “You don’t even know me.”

A chuckle vibrated through her chest as she gave me a soft smile. “And you don’t know us either—and yet you decided to stay.”

Well, Zaidkiel must have explained to his sister the few discussions we’d had. And Nefeli was right: I had decided to stay, even though I knew nothing about them, but I did know Arthur trusted Zaidkiel for some reason. And Zaidkiel had saved me from the attack of that strange wolf-like creature in the forest. Out of pure kindness? No, I was sure the commander had his own reasons that he wasn’t revealing.

“Not out of trust,” I admitted, my voice low, “but rather because I had no other options.” And because Zaidkiel had promised to help me regain my memory, but she didn’t need to know this part.

Another silence fell between us, and Nefeli withdrew her hand from mine.

“I’ll leave you to your day, then,” Nefeli whispered with a smile, trying to hide the hurt flashing in her eyes.

She rose from her seat and reached the door. Pausing with her hand on the knob, she looked back over her shoulder. “Listen—if you need anything, I’m here for you. I truly mean that.”

Then, Nefeli exited the room, leaving the echo of her words lingering in the air, like a soft promise. After all the things I had learned about the state of the world, I wondered how someone could still have such faith in others.

“DO YOU HAVE any experience with blades?” Dax asked as he tied his brown hair into a bun while he remained seated on the staircase on the main deck.

I’d immediately recognized him—he was the large man with the broad, mischievous smile who had interrupted the evening Zaidkiel had made his offer—the same man who had also been in Lorath with Zaidkiel last week.

Now that I was facing him in the daylight, I realized that Dax was not only a warrior, but a goddamn mountain. I was certain that a more muscular man couldn’t exist. He had muscles in places I didn’t even know existed. His body was a war story, with scars running along his back and chest and a large sun tattoo centered on his back. Every inch of him was a weapon.

In comparison, Zaidkiel, who was already well-sculpted from what I had guessed through his clothes, was slimmer and taller, too. But perhaps I was aware of it because Dax was shirtless now.

Meanwhile, under the punishing heat of the sun, I donned a brown leather outfit that Nefeli had let me borrow. It hugged my body and clung to my every curve. It made me uncomfortable, forcing me to become exceedingly aware of my body and the lingering stares from the crew.

“I know how to use a bow,” I admitted, “but I don’t have much experience.”

Arthur’s few lessons had taught me the basics—how to aim, how to stand—but nothing beyond that.

“How about hand-to-hand combat?” Dax asked, his gray eyes curious.

I shook my head. It was pointless for a princess to learn to fight. No one would ever attack one—except the Order of the Six, I supposed. They’d already proven that assumption wrong.

Dax finally got up from the stairs, walking near me. With him a little closer, I noticed the carving in the middle of his forehead, a round shape with swirling lines around it—like a sun. What was it? I didn’t have time to ask because Dax spoke again.

“Okay, then maybe I can give you some tips on hand-to-hand combat to start with.” Dax placed himself before me. “The jaw is an excellent target for striking your opponent. If you hit hard enough, it’ll be a good start. You can also hit someone in the kidneys, which will cause them to fall.” He showed me the spot and then gestured to his neck. “The back of the head is particularly sensitive to blows.” Then Dax ordered, “Show me your fighting stance.”

I wasn’t sure how to position myself, but I tried anyway, finding the first natural stance that came to mind. I bent my knees slightly and placed my fists in front of me. I remembered seeing Arthur and Dorian assume this position when they’d trained together.

With his strong hands, Dax corrected me. “Your feet should be slightly apart. Tuck your fists near your face.” Dax showed me with his body. “Like this. Remember one thing: if you lose your footing, it’s all over. Stay rooted like a tree but remain as flexible as a stream, understood?”

I nodded, rooting my feet to the floor.

“I know you’re still recovering from nasty wounds, so from now on, just watch me, alright?” Dax positioned himself to demonstrate a move. “First, extend your lead hand while shielding your face with your opposite hand.”

I nodded and watched his next move. He raised his hand while pivoting on his foot, rotating his hips.

Dax spent the whole morning showing me techniques and the basics of hand-to-hand combat until the sun was high in the sky.

“Today, you saw the art of striking.” Dax smiled enthusiastically as he stopped. “Spend the next few days watching the soldiers practice. Observe, take some notes. It will give you a headstart once you’re back on your feet. Alright?”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

Dax winked at me and bowed his head politely; his eyes lit up slightly as he replied, “Very well, Alyana. See you tomorrow, then.”