Remy's POV:

We started training the very next day. The women and children of the camp were sent away to fish or pick berries while the men (and me) stayed behind. A strategy had already been put in place. Areas of the camp were sectioned off and dedicated to separate training centres, like sword fighting, archery and so on. The night before Raybha had taken me to the Chief, right after I gave my word to fight.

Honestly, I think she was just afraid I would change my mind. She explained to him what I had said, and once again I gave an oath to the Chief. Something had changed in me, but I couldn't exactly pinpoint it. Something had clicked. If I wanted to save the people I loved, I would fight, and then make them forget. If I was still around to do that.

Aaya had given me some warmer clothes – the weather had become unusually colder – and I left my tent, completely ready for what I had to do. Male voices were the only sounds around – the trees were quiet. I realised uncomfortably that I was the only female in the camp. I crossed my arms and stood on one of the logs around the campfire, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.

Peter was in deep conversation with Sean, and the rest of the lads were standing nearby, chatting loudly. I made my way over to them, prepared to make my case.

But before I could even breathe one word, a hand appeared in front of my face.

"We're not going anywhere," Tadhg stated, holding his hand sternly.

I was about to protest, but he interrupted.

"We're a part of this now, right lads?"

The lads all cheered, and Jamie even grunted.

I studied Tadhg while trying not to be too obvious. He seemed completely at ease with me. I, unfortunately, was still rather awkward around him. I begged my easily – reddened cheeks not to give me away. Then I remembered my pledge the night before. No distractions. So, rather lamely, I pushed his hand away, and said "Fine."

Allowing a little (squeaky) casual laugh, I turned to Peter and Sean. Peter smiled, and Sean hugged me. I missed my best friend, and held on for as long as I could.

"You ready?" he asked me.

I finally pulled away, and nodded. "Beyond ready. Let's do this."

The next few hours were dedicated to backbreaking exercises, constant initiations and learning new skills. An hour in, I had run thirty five laps around the camp with the rest of the group. We needed stamina, speed, strength, fight. Will.

Two hours in, I hit two target dummies (crafted out of branches and twigs) in their wooden hearts with arrows.

Sword fighting was my weak spot.

After my second defeat, I became frustrated. Why was it so difficult? I looked at the makeshift wooden sword in my hand.

"We're not getting along, are we?" I said to the piece of wood.

I was actually afraid I was losing my mind.

A laugh from behind me made me straighten up and pretend not to feel defeated. Peter appeared at my side.

"I can't do it," I admitted, facing him. "How do you do it?"

He took my hand and straightened the sword, making my fingers hold it at a different angle.

"I knew you weren't watching the demonstration," he said.

Okay, admittedly, I wasn't. I heard one of the birds, singing the stupid song with the stupid words that I had so stupidly completely forgotten about.

In your place, a lion will rise
To disturb the enemy's
Immortal eyes.

It was almost ironic. But unfortunately, calling the lion out in me was harder than I first thought.

I trained with Peter for the best of an hour. In the hour he taught me to look for weaknesses in my opponent, to protect myself by keeping my arms and elbows tucked back, and imagine the sword as another extending part of myself, prepared to defend myself.

After the hour, when we were breathing heavily and sweating, he spoke.

"And finally, the most important rule in sword fighting, is to own the fight. It's hard to do it. Some people never can."

My confused face must've given me away, because he laughed.

"What I mean is, try to control the person you're fighting. If you can control them, you own the fight, and you win. Control the flow."

"Were you controlling our fight?"

He shook his head. "You did that all on your own."

He turned to go join the section were several men were throwing spears at the wooden dummies, but paused.

"Well done," he said, and then walked away.

I stripped off the coat Aaya had given me. The heat was returning to the island. Sunlight broke through the trees and a warm glow flooded the camp. A shiver went down my spine. It was our moods causing this unpredictable weather.

I watched Peter's back as it grew more distant, and then turned towards the trees, embarrassed to be staring. Different emotions were scorching me, burning me, leaving me annoyed and determined to forget. To forget him. And us. Or whatever we were.

I needed to stop thinking and start running.

Several thousand years later I threw myself onto my bed and groaned. My bones were aching and screaming in pain. I had pushed myself until I couldn't breathe anymore, and now I was paying the price. And even after all of that effort, it still wouldn't leave my mind. That, that silence that was between us.

No distractions, Remy. Focus. FOCUS.

"Oh, God, just STOP!"

I heard a yelp. I lifted my head and saw Aaya, several pieces of clothing scattered on the ground around her. My yell had become much louder than intended.

"Aaya, I'm so sorry."

She waved it off. I jumped up (not listening to the pleading screams of my limbs) and helped her gather the clothing. We both sat on her bed and began folding them in silence.

"Do you need to talk? We haven't talked in so long."

I glanced at Aaya, and I was surprised when I realised we really hadn't talked. And I mean talked as in a proper Deep Meaningful Conversation about everything we could think of.

So, thankfully, that was what we did.

Aaya told me about a man in camp who was well respected, handsome, and 'very nice' as she put it.

"Have you talked to him before?"

She named all interactions she had had with him, ticking them off on her fingers as she went. Once when she was out fishing, and he was out in the lake swimming. Another time during dinner, they talked briefly about the weather. I actually had to hold back the laughter. However divided and different my world seemed to theirs, the similarities were obvious and hilarious.

"I mean, have you ever had a proper conversation with him?"

Aaya's eyes widened. "No! I couldn't!"

I knew what she meant. At some stage in a person's life they will know a person they desperately want to talk to, but can't, due to legs shaking and voice squeaking. We laughed for a while and nearly wet ourselves during the practice conversations, me playing her crush. I hadn't laughed so hard in what felt like a year and forever.

"So, what about you?" she asked me.

I took a deep breath and told her absolutely everything. My confused feelings for both Peter and Tadhg, and the fact that I didn't know what to do with them.

"I need to get over both of them. I'm getting distracted, aren't I? I can't do this, not anymore."

Aaya only looked at me, her face clouded. She couldn't disagree with me.

"This world is your home, Aaya. I will fight until the last breath, until the last drop of blood leaves me. I will never stop."

I was a kid. I was a child. But I had to forget. I had to forget myself. This world, it meant so much more. More than a little lovesick girls crush. More than anything I had ever known.

That night in bed I dreamed consecutively of the battle we would soon face, over and over again.

Martina.
Mam.
Joseph.
Aaya.
Peter.
Sean.
Tadhg.

And every time, Hook put bullets through their skulls right in front of me.