Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Thud!

Astra lowered her arm as the last of her throwing knives left her grip, smiling in grim satisfaction as she heard the dull noise that indicated she had properly hit her mark. Walking up to the dummy she had been targeting, she inspected her handiwork.

Of the small target painted in the center of the dummy’s chest, four out of five knives had landed in a loose cluster close to the bullseye. The final had buried itself up to the hilt, dead center.

Happily, Astra went to retrieve the blades, being careful not to warp them.

From behind her, she heard a low whistle.

“You’re pretty good.”

Glancing back, she realized that Liam and the other three men who were training in this area had paused their work to watch her, and smiled shyly. “Thank you.” She was awful at accepting compliments, but this was one of the few skills she was proud of. “I’m still a mess when it comes to close combat, but long range has always been my strong suit.”

“I would beg to differ. Your hand-to-hand combat skills are nothing to laugh at, either.”

The familiar voice made not only the noirette, but every single person in the training ground look up with joyful eyes.

“Captain Aleron!”

“It’s the Captain!”

“The Captain’s back!”

They gathered around the knight in a loose circle, all clamouring welcomes and great goofy smiles; Aleron smiled at each one in turn as he called them all by name, not missing a single person. Astra sheathed her knives and stood politely a short distance away, gazing fondly at the gaggle of people.

Ahh, wholesome scenes really were great for healing fatigue. She could feel her weariness melting away at the sight of all these grown adults acting like happy puppies.

After a few minutes, Aleron came over to her, still with a few more enthusiastic subordinates in tow. Astra suppressed her grin at the way they all trailed after him with adoring eyes, seeming more like ducklings than puppies, now. How cute.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, Astra. Were you training?” he asked, spotting the sheaths she had tied to her thigh.

“Just killing some time and building my skills.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you, then. I've a few things to handle – I will show you where you will be staying when I've finished.” Aleron gestured back to the dummy she’d been targeting, and with a nod she turned back to her work. “In the meantime,” she heard him calling as she moved to the little corner she’d been in, “I’ve got to make sure you lot haven’t been slacking in my absence!”

“You never told us you were going around with a pretty thing like that, Captain!” someone shouted, followed by the whistles and teasing calls of the others. “While we’ve been working hard, isn’t that too unfair?”

“Any man who thinks I haven’t also been working hard is welcome to challenge me to prove it,” Aleron dared in response, and a great cheer went up in response as they all began to clamour to be the first to prove their dedication to their Captain’s words.

Astra, shaking her head at all the chaos, resumed her knife throwing. Rather than just aiming for the center of the target, she took advantage of its humanlike physique to further hone her aim. Head, feet, shoulders, belly – she carefully targeted and struck at various weak points of the straw-stuffed training dummy.

When she had run out of knives again, she went to retrieve them, clicking her tongue in slight dissatisfaction as she did so – one of her blades had missed its mark, embedding itself in the dirt floor next to the base of the dummy where its foot would be. Muttering to herself, she bent to tug the knife out of the ground.

“Can you teach me to throw like that?” 

A little surprised, she turned, dusting bits of dirt from the blade, to see a very young recruit watching her from a few paces away. He had a mess of blonde hair and wide blue eyes, and she estimated he couldn’t be older than sixteen. Something about his face, still with a hint of childish innocence, was very appealing; she guessed he would probably be quite the heartbreaker when he was a little older. He was staring wistfully at the tears she had made in the rough cloth of the training dummy, not noticing her confused expression. 

“And you are…?” she asked, sheathing her knives one at a time as she tried to remember the storm of introductions she’d been given earlier. 

The young boy started, eyes wide. “Ah - sorry! I’m Conrad,” he said hurriedly, thrusting a hand out, which she took and shook cordially. “I’m the newest recruit here. I only joined up a month or two ago, but I’m plain awful at knife throwing. The Captain seems to acknowledge your skill, but I don’t want to bother him to have him tutor me… would you give me some pointers?” 

Astra regarded him for a moment, something clicking in her mind. “If you only joined up a month ago, then this is the first time you’re seeing Aleron in person, isn’t it?” she wanted to know. 

Conrad shook his head with a smile. “Oh, no, I met the Captain when I was very small, but I doubt he remembers… he saved my sister and I from a house fire. Everyone thought we were doomed, but the Captain was calm and directed people to put out the flames. I wanted to serve under him, and that’s why I decided to become a soldier.” 

Astra’s heart warmed at the story; Aleron truly was respected and well-liked here, and it filled her with a sense of pride. “If you’re alright with having an outsider like me teach you, then I’d love to help you out.” When he gave her a glowing smile of gratitude, she returned it warmly, unbuckling the sheath of knives from her leg and holding it out to him. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve learned so far?” 

Expression betraying his nervousness, Conrad took the sheath from her and tied it to his own leg as he took up a stance a few paces from the dummy - much closer than Astra had set for herself - and picked out a knife, raising it in one hand. He threw, and missed his mark; the knife struck the center of the dummy hilt first, making it bounce harmlessly off and clatter to the ground. Shamefaced, Conrad sighed, rubbing the back of his neck regretfully. 

“Again,” Astra requested softly. “I think I see the problem.” Conrad was utilizing a form of throwing that did not require putting any spin on the knife, which could be considered a much simpler approach for beginners, but the knife was rotating all the same, enough to skew his throw.

A bit of hope lighting in his eyes, Conrad went to repeat the process, selecting another knife and preparing to chuck it at his target. 

“Hold on,” Astra interrupted, making him freeze as his arm went back for the throw. Walking in one full circle around him, she noted his flaws. Quietly, she moved up to him, taking him by the shoulders and adjusting the angle of his feet. “Shoulder width apart,” she ordered, nudging his foot with her own. “Keep your center of gravity low. And keep your elbow slightly bent when you throw, or your aim is going to skew to the side.” Wrapping her hand around his, she adjusted his hold on the knife hilt. “Keep your forefinger extended along the back of the blade to counter the rotation, and make sure the butt of the knife is nestled into the center of your palm.” She was aware of his blush at her closeness, but focused on her work, stepping back when she was satisfied. “Alright, now try.” 

Taking a deep breath, Conrad let the knife fly. This time it hit blade first, though off target, nicking the arm of the training dummy and hitting the wall behind. Disappointed, Conrad let out a huff of frustration, but Astra smiled at him. 

“Your throw has already loosened up a lot by adjusting your stance,” she pointed out, “And as long as your distance stays consistent, you should be able to keep hitting it blade first. Now you just have to work on your aim, and that’s easy - you just need practice, practice, and more practice.” 

Conrad studied his arm, the placement of his feet, and pursed his lips. “I never thought a few little changes like that would make it feel so different.” 

“Attention to detail is the difference between a good fighter and a great one,” Astra said absentmindedly, pausing when he gave her a strange look. “What?” 

Conrad shook his head. “Nothing… it’s just, I think that’s one of the Captain’s catchphrases. Sir Jeorge uses it all the time.” 

Memories returning, Astra smiled wistfully. “Yes, I believe you’re right. Aleron was probably the one who told me that, a long time ago.” 

“How did you and the Captain meet, miss?” Conrad wanted to know. “He was gone on a journey for two years, and then suddenly he turns back up with you in tow…” realizing that his musing might sound accusatory, he hurried to correct himself. “I don’t mean to pry! I was just curious…” 

In truth, he was far more than curious. For Conrad, the Captain of the Castle Guard was a figure of admiration and emulation. He wanted to eventually become a man similar in strength and conduct someday, if it was at all possible. Though he had been a bit disappointed when he first joined the guard at thirteen as a trainee and found that the object of his admirations had been sent away from home on a long journey, he had swallowed the bitter taste and told himself that he would train harder in order to impress Aleron when he eventually returned.

No one had expected that Aleron would return with company. Although none of the men were approaching to ask quite yet, everyone was wondering who exactly Astra was. Many of them threw her cautious looks when they thought she wouldn’t notice, but Conrad’s curiousity had gotten the better of him and he could not help but make his inquiries.

Astra waved away his concern. “I’m not offended, Conrad. Aleron met me on his journey, yes. Originally he spoke to me because he was seeking information.” This was true. “I housed he and his travel companion for a time; I suppose we grew close then.” Also the truth, though she was omitting the fact that all of these events hadn’t happened anywhere in Ateole or even in Onaria. She gestured towards the target again. “Why don’t you try another knife while we chat?” 

Nodding, Conrad fixed his stance once more, sending another knife whipping towards the dummy. As Astra had predicted, it hit blade first, impaling the dummy in the shoulder. Lining up his aim based off his miss, Conrad tried again. 

“Did the Captain teach you knifework?” he wanted to know.

Astra shook her head. “I’m self-taught, though he does instruct me in swordplay from time to time.”

Conrad's eyes, which were already large, opened even wider and Astra bit back a smile at his simple amazement. “That’s incredible, miss. You’re so lucky.” With a wistful comment, the cadet attempted another throw, this one clipping the neck of the dummy and ripping a hole in the coarse cloth. 

“Well, now that he’s back, you’ll get the same,” Astra pointed out with a grin. “And please, just call me Astra. I’m not one to stand on formality.” As she watched his movements, she added, almost absentmindedly, “If you shift your weight to your back foot and step forwards a little when you throw, you’ll get more force.” 

“Astra,” Conrad repeated dutifully as he made the small adjustment and drew his arm back. “And I suppose you’re right… I’m excited just thinking about it.” Letting the knife fly, his jaw dropped as his projectile flew through the air and slammed into the bullseye on the dummy’s chest, vibrating there slightly in a very satisfying manner. “I… I did it,” he said in wonder, lowering his arm. 

“You did. I knew you could.” Astra was feeling an oddly parental feeling rising to the surface around this earnest young boy, and resisted the urge to ruffle his hair. “Congratulations, Conrad.” 

“Miss!” A wide grin splitting his face, Conrad whirled on her, clasping a startled Astra’s hands in his own. “Thank you so much! Up until today, I couldn’t throw worth a penny, and now look!” gleefully, he gestured to the dummy, and the knife that was buried up to the hilt in its chest. 

Astra started to laugh. “I didn’t do anything,” she replied, squeezing his hands. “You did all that yourself. I just gave you a few tips.” Slipping her fingers free of his grasp, she went to go and retrieve his knives for him, handing them to him. “Now you just need practice. You’ll be an expert before you know it.” 

Nodding and thanking her profusely several more times, Conrad ran back off to join his squad, excitedly chattering to them. As she watched, Conrad took up a stance and demonstrated his new skill for them, this time missing the mark slightly but managing to bury the knife blade first in the dummy’s stomach, making his platoon mates burst into scattered applause. Shaking her head and smiling to herself, Astra realized she now had no knives as well, given that Conrad had run off with the set she had been using. 

“I see you’re already having a positive influence on my subordinates,” she heard someone tease over her shoulder, and turned around.

“Aleron.”

The knight gave her a cordial smile. “I had worried about whether you’d be able to integrate yourself with everyone, but… it seems my worries were unfounded.”

“You know I’m not good with new people,” she replied, brushing the dust from her tunic, “but these aren’t just people. They’re your precious subordinates, and I’ll be living in their company for a while. I know better than to be rude or standoffish.” Even if it was taking a lot of effort for her to hide her fatigue. Strangers, no matter whose subordinates they were, were difficult to deal with for Astra whom had little confidence in her own social skills. She was just glad she hadn't offended anyone yet. 

Shaking his head and smiling, Aleron gestured to the far building.

“Come. Let me show you to your room.” 

-----

Author's Note:

Chapter 3 ends here ~ 

In the original draft of this story, I had Astra impress the soldiers with a dizzying display of sword skills before I realized that it doesn't really make sense for a regular person from Earth to suddenly become a prodigy with the blade after less than 2 years of training xD 

But archery and knife-throwing are things that are still practiced in modern society. As a fun fact, they're also two of my personal hobbies. OwO

I'll see you in the next chapter.