Holding the rapier in my hand, that feeling returns—the feeling of the "breathing of the sword," as Alter once called it.
It's hard to put into words. It feels like meeting an old friend I thought I had lost, even though it's just a wooden friend and not actually a metal one.
Every cell in my body stirs awake, trembling with energy. My heartbeat quickens, my muscles tingle, as though my very flesh is urging me on, to move, to swing, to thrust, to cut! It's intoxicating. I feel like I could lose myself in the rush, like I've just downed three cups of strong coffee and now the jitters won't stop.
But no. Being too excited will only trip me up.
I force myself to pause. Slowly, I let out a breath, guiding my racing thoughts back into calm. My grip loosens just enough, my shoulders soften.
"Now," Eris asks, tilting her head with a smile, "do you still remember all the moves? Can you show me again?"
"Well…" My voice trails off as hesitation creeps in.
