It had been weeks and her first hadn't done anything.

Lexa tried. She tried every day, in the menial tasks of the village: collecting food, scouting, watching for the other clans. The other seconds, they did things. Their firsts took them out into the woods, with weapons: swords, knives. They came back with stories of hunting the two-faced deer, of knife-throwing and spear-making, of hitting a target thirty meters away. And all she did was collect food and watch.

Anya said hardly anything. On the days when she put warpaint on, she would leave with the other firsts and come back at the end of the day. The other firsts would share dinner with their seconds, telling them about hunting and meetings with the other clans, alliances made and broken, wars being fought on the other side of the woods, of other people from far away, strange stories of wonders never known to this world. Anya would sit across the fire, eating her food alone, not looking up.

It bored Lexa, so she began to have her own fun. During the watch, when no one was looking, she would throw her knife at the trees. Each time it would bounce off. She would cross her legs and let her mind go blank, focusing on the watch. She would remember the ceremony, where Anya chose her. It had filled her heart to the brim. She had said goodbye to her birth parents and left the village, following Anya on horseback, the first so much bigger and taller and stronger. They had travelled through the woods, a small group of them for days and days, the endless forest stretching wide, green and brown blending together into endless shades of earth. The other seconds, they had talked with their firsts. Anya said nothing. Lexa didn't think anything of it at first, but then when she still refused to speak, it started to grate at her, day and night. It kept her up in the darkness, no matter which way she tossed and turned her small body. The other seconds, like her, were no more than a decade old, but most of them were already able to run faster, climb higher, shoot further. In the little fights the seconds had she never won, being beaten to the ground. And Anya didn't even glare at her from the sidelines like the other seconds who lost. She was nowhere to be found.

It was like this every day. And Lexa was tired of it. So her fun began to become not fun as she worked harder and threw further. She ran in the woods, climbed the trees, threw her knife at the watch. And soon, the knife that never stuck in the trees began to hit blade first. The trees began to get cut up. And soon, the knife began to stick.

Lexa watched the brawls closely, watching the other seconds and what they did to win, the way they twisted their arms around the other's legs to knock them over, the way they positioned their legs further apart to balance. And she started copying them.

The brawls, though they were for fun, were kept track who was winning and who was losing. They had a chart on the ground, scratched in the dirt with a stick, and the rocks were piled in the slots for who won and who lost. The winner got a rock. The loser got nothing. There were fifteen seconds in this village, from all over. Some were born in the village. Some were from far away, coming to live in the village to train with their first. Some were neighbors, grown up with the seconds from this village, seeing each other only a few times a week. Lexa was one of the ones from far away. And she was in dead last. There were no rocks in her slot. And she wanted to change that.

The one who came next to her, Kirsch, he had one rock. And then the next one had three. That was Janus. Lexa told herself she would beat both Kirsch and Janus in the brawls. And then she would work her way up. Slowly, slowly, Lexa told herself in the woods alone as she practiced her stance and punched trees and rolled in the dirt. By day, she kept loosing. She would let Kirsh knock her feet away, let Alana punch her cheek and fall to the ground as she felt her arm on her neck, pounded the ground three times with a hoarse yell. Let Sanse pull her hair and punch her stomach, let him throw her to the dirt. But she was watching. She saw how Kirsh favored his right side. She saw how Alana kept her feet too close together. Saw as Sanse's reflexes were slower on his left leg. Lexa was patient.

And finally, she woke up, battered and bruised as normal, got up from her mat and stretched her legs, rolled up the sleeping mat, got dressed in the chill morning. The seconds had a few nuts and then were called to morning watch. The air was cold, but Lexa was warm. She knew today she was ready.

They sent her to the north side of the village. The seconds were mixed in with some of the older warriors. The next nearest watcher was a ways away, his figure blurry in the woods. Lexa gazed into the green, the trees a maze. She pulled out her knife. She had sharpened it the night before, and ran the blade under her fingernail. It was sharp. She went through the motions of the fights, ducking, rolling, pivoting, her heel tracing a line through the dirt. She still went barefoot - all the seconds did until they were ready to become warriors. Shoes were a luxury, made with layers of hide or otherwise found in the woods in old wrecks and shelters. They were a gift that you earned. But Lexa enjoyed being barefoot. It kept her grounded, connected to the earth. And it gave her small frame a grip on the dirt, her toes curled on the cold ground.

The day passed like a slug, but Lexa conserved her energy as the watch was shifted, called back in. The other seconds did their usual activities. Lexa watched the fire burn, legs crossed, eyes half closed. At this point she almost didn't think about where Anya might be. The day was too important.

It was dinner. The sky was dark, the fire burning bright. The seconds had finished eating and were starting to exchange insults, throwing sticks and rocks into the fire. Two of them stood up, Ophus and Reed, and started exchanging blows casually. Slowly at first. The other seconds were yelling, throwing things, playfully. And then just like that it had started. The seconds were fighting. Ophus tried to kick Reed's feet out from under him, tried to knock him to the ground, but Reed was too quick, instead jumping to kick Ophus's head, but just like that he had ducked down to the ground and his hand came up in an uppercut, but Reed dodged the cut and -

On like this the two exchanged blows, but none of them landed, circling, kicking, punching, yelling. Lexa screamed along with the rest. And, almost too quickly for Lexa's sharp eyes - almost - Reed was spinning through the air and then he was on the ground, Ophus panting, his hands on his legs. A rock was placed in Ophus's pile, to join the pile that stood there. Ophus was near the top, third to Costia and Yunto.

"Come. Let's have a playfight," Ophus said, wiping sweat off his brow. "Lexa. Your turn. Let's have a break before we get onto the real fights."

Lexa stood up. The other seconds jeered her. "Where's your first, Lexa?" screeched Costia.

"Not even bothering to show up to her own second's fight," jeered Ophus. The other seconds joined in with cheers of "where's Anya?" "Lexa has no first!" "Let's see her fight!"

"Ok," Lexa said. "You want to see me fight? Give me a real fight and maybe I'll try."

Costia stepped up. Lexa looked up to the taller second. This was more than she was expecting. It escalated too quickly. She hadn't prepared to fight Costia, she had prepared to fight Kirsch. But there was no backing down now. Costia still had weaknesses. It wasn't her right side, like Kirsch. Costia kept her arms too stiff when she punched, it would tire her out. That was Costia's weakness. Lexa only needed to bide her time and Costia's arms would tire. And she would still win. But she would draw too much attention too fast. Either way though...

And she stepped up. Costia stepped up with a smile, cracking her knuckles to intimidate Lexa. Lexa smiled inwardly. She didn't expect anything from this fight. She expected to win in seconds. Lexa tensed as she and Costia circled each other. In the glow of the firelight, unexpectedly, her first's face came into view, just barely at the edge of the shadows. "Shit," Lexa thought to herself. Now there was no way she could lose.

Costia took the first blow, her fist coming in from the right, straight towards Lexa's ribs. Lexa let it land, but softly, as she rolled with the blow, spinning and coming up fine. Kendra's eyebrows shot up, but her lips hardened as her smile disappeared. Her foot came from nowhere, right side this time. Lexa darted away. Two fists back to back, an uppercut, Lexa spun away to the right as the second came from the left. Both missed. Now Costia was breathing, sweat appearing on her brow.

Two more fists appeared, one straight to the stomach, and one a cut to the legs. Lexa jumped, her legs flying to dodge both, and spinning, her legs suddenly making contact with Costia's side. She landed and danced away as a spurt of punches and kicks came at her. Costia was angry now. Lexa had landed a hit. The only thing she could hear were the rhythm of Costia's breaths and the pounding of her heart. That breath was fast now, just slightly ragged. They spun, twirled, kicked and punched. At least, Lexa was spinning and twirling. Costia was doing the punching and kicking. And it was somehow, magically working. Lexa's energies only seemed to increase as she dodged, parried and occasionally hit back. Costia's blows were becoming less frequent and heavier. Her energy was running low. And Lexa's was soaring high.

And then it was over. Costia tried to throw it all out, her entire weight onto one punch at Lexa's diaphragm. Lexa easily sidestepped and as Costia's fist missed, she gently pushed Costia over. She went toppling to the ground. Lexa's knee went straight to the back of her neck as she pounded the ground three times.

The seconds were silent for a moment or two. The fight had lasted a long time, almost bordering five minutes. And then someone whooped. Lexa didn't know who, but then all the seconds were whooping, screaming, yelling for Lexa, who stood triumphant. Unlike most of the fighters, whose stance was often hands-on-legs or hands-on-hips to widen their ribs because they coudln't breathe they were so exhausted, Lexa was ready to go again. She was jumping, smiling, whooping with the others. Costia, from the ground spat, wiped her mouth, stood up and held out her hand. "You fought good," Kendra said with a slight grin. "You have my respect."

Lexa soared. This was more than she could hope for. Two more seconds stood to take their place as Costia bent down, removing a stone from her pile and placing it in Lexa's empty slot. "For you," she said. Lexa smiled. "Yu nowe odun."

"Pro," Lexa said, slipping easily into tregedasleng. The high of the fight was leaving her, and she sad down on a log. And just like that, Anya was next to her. "

"You lost hope because I was no longer with you," Anya said. "And I left. But then you realized you no longer needed me, and became even stronger than when I picked you. I picked you to be my second for your talent. I saw it, others saw it. But the moment you lost hope, you began to live to the expectations of others."

Lexa sat still, not daring to look at Anya. "You have learned your first lesson," Anya continued. "Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim. Pro tregedakru, Lexa. You do not need the expectations of others to be gonakru. Only your own. Now we begin. Meet me at the north edge of the village at dawn. We have work to do." And with that, she was gone.

Lexa sat up, watching the fights of the other seconds. This time she was smiling. And when the fight was over, she cheered just like the rest.