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As the day closed in on us, I began to instruct them on things other than moves to execute on the day.
How to fight.
How to exude confidence.
How to plan attacks within a second.
How to win.
It was all very basic, but for those who were new to it all, I could tell it was hard.
I commended them for their work, as inside myself, my guilt grew at having to expose them to this all.
I was hardly what you would call 'worth it'.
We trained for hours, and as I watched them flourish, I grew more and more confident.
I could do this.
We could do this.
I could show her that I was happy, that I did not need nor want that life.
Because I was, and I didn't.
As their own confidence grew, I stepped back and allowed them to flourish in their own planning.
They needed to own their skills, to hone them by themselves.
That was the key.
You could borrow from others unless you wanted someone to read you and break you down, having seen the same technique before.
I, myself, had spent decades honing in my own talents—my empathy and my battle skills, my planning skills—until they were as strong as they were today.
Only the best of my soldiers did this, and only the best survived.
Well, until Maria ordered the oldest batch to be culled just before we brought the newest in.
I watched as my mate started to interact more with the others and found it to be a good idea.
This was why I approached Emmett after training three days from the day of the fight.
We smiled and laughed and chattered with one another, getting to know one another.
We shared stories, and scars.
I found I liked his humor, his enthusiasm for life.
It was like having a male friend version of Alice, only of course different.
We bonded quite quickly and that was that.
When Alice showered that night—she could not quite get used to the exhilarating feeling of water flowing down onto her—I found Edward.
Much the same occurred.
In him, I found someone I could sympathize with.
He was young, had wanted to go through what I had already gone through without really knowing what it meant.
He asked for stories of war, and I gave them straight-laced, letting him in on the true nature that was war.
When he asked for stories with Maria, how I had been 'brought up', so to speak, in this world, we was shocked… and remorseful.
He'd had a hard time accepting what had happened to him with Carlisle's far more loving and gentle practices of guidance.
He'd left to thank his maker, and I felt myself renewed with the light of purpose as my bonds in the family grew.
Later that night, I returned to my love, and we held one another until morning, when training would begin all over again.
Yes.
My confidence had grown.
We would get through this.
We would.
Three more days.
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bexie25