[Training] heart full of fire, looking for a fighter

Theea

The storm’s not overhead yet, but it’s close. Thunder rolls low and deep, a soft warning in the bones, and lightning flashes sharp in the sky above. No rain. Just that electric, alive kind of air that makes the world feel like it’s holding its breath. It’s my favorite.

Stormbreak stretches out around me like a dream carved into stone. I’ve only been here a couple times before, but gods, I wish we’d lived here once — even just for a season. There’s a rough beauty to it, all soaring towers and endless sky, like the city decided being so high up wasn’t high enough and just kept building. It’s easy to fall in love with places when they don’t belong to you.

Still. I’ve got Torchline now. A room that’s mine, people who know my name, even a mom who came back when I stopped expecting it. I met my grandmother. I’m doing more than surviving — I’m making a life. And I’m actually starting to get pretty decent at what I do.

That’s reason enough to be in a good mood.

So I make my way up to the Dragon’s Nest before I leave. It’s where the Dragoons used to train — still might, for all I know — and I figure it wouldn’t hurt to squeeze in a little solo practice before I catch the next Skyship. The main yard is quiet when I arrive, open to the storming sky, and I slow as I take it in. Stone walls, reinforced beams, everything built with weight and purpose. It feels important just standing here.

I drop my backpack by the wall, roll my shoulders under the oversized weight of my dad’s jacket, and spot a training dummy a few paces off. I shrug the jacket off, depositing it beside my bag. I shed the sweater, goosebumps immediately spreading across my exposed skin, and I shudder. I’ll be sweating soon enough.

And this time, I’m more prepared.

From my bag, I pull two white cloth strips — soft, fraying at the edges — and start wrapping them around my hands and knuckles. I tighten the wrap on my right hand, flex my fingers once, and glance at the dummy with a crooked little grin.

Last time I tried punching drills, I skinned a knuckle, missed the bag, and accidentally gave Soh a black eye.

So. Yeah. Time to practice.

there is defiance in being a d r e a m e r

I always thought I might be bad
Now I'm sure that it's true

Theea isn't the only one looking to get a workout in while the storm remains at sea, lighting stretching like godly fingers across a distant sky. Maintaining routine and being a refugee are disharmonic things, and one of the first things Koa'd done upon his return home was to prioritize exercising at least once a day. Routine has always soothed the boy and his busy mind, and his mental wellness has suffered for the lack of consistency these past months.

The grey sky looms pregnant with potential as he strides into the field, tightening the bands of heal and hurt over his calloused hands. The training grounds are all but empty, a disheartening sight to see, though Koa perks up somewhat as he spots a slender figure, feminine beneath the oversized jacket, her back to the Dragoon.

He picks his pace up, making his steps louder, his trajectory an angle so she'll be able to see him as he approaches - he doesn't want to seem like one of those gym creeps who sneaks up on women while they're in the zone. That is, until catches the edge of her profile and realizes she's not a stranger, at which point all bets are off and decorum gives way to an ebullient grin.

"Hey- Theea, right?" Koa waves an easy greeting, pulling to a stop beside her selected mannequin. "It's Koa - we met at Flora's party. Glad to see you still in one piece after that night." He shoots her a playful copper wink, arm swinging over the dummy's shoulder like it was an old friend. His arms are bare save for the wraps, hair on end in the brisk fall chill. Theea's removed her jacket, too, and Koa casts a pointed look at her hands before glancing back up to meet her eyes. "Looks like you're gearing up for some practice- fancy a proper spar? I'm sure old Woody here won't mind," he adds, giving the mannequin a conciliatory pat on its inanimate back.

'cause I think you're so good
and I'm nothing like you

Koa

Theea

I hear footsteps behind me and look up quick — ready to tell whoever it is that the dummy’s mine — only to find Koa, already kitted out and clearly here for the same reason I am. And he’s greeting me. Holy shit. He remembers me.

I flash him a bright grin. “Koa! Minor hangover, nothing tragic,” I tell him, unable to keep the humor out of my voice. “Though I still can’t get all the glitter out of my hair. Think it’s a permanent feature now.”

He glances at my hands, so I flex them out, following his gaze before meeting his copper eyes with my own bright blue. And then it hits me — that’s two people in a row who’ve not only recognized me, but wanted to hang out. I keep the lid screwed on tight, but the nearly euphoric bubble inside me is hard to ignore.

“A proper spar? With you? Yeah, I’d love that.” I flick a look toward the training dummy, feigning sympathy. “Sorry, Woody, but when you swing back, it hurts. Surely this upstanding gentleman doesn’t hit that hard.” My tone makes it clear I’m teasing, not trying to get under his skin.

I pull my long hair over one shoulder and swiftly braid it with practiced fingers as I pace toward the middle of the training ground. “I fell out of practice for a few months,” I admit with an easy shrug, “so I’m brushing up before I go home. You’re doing me a huge favor.”

there is defiance in being a d r e a m e r

I always thought I might be bad
Now I'm sure that it's true

He chuckles at the description of endless glitter, shaking his own head in rueful solidarity. "Every time I think I've got it all I find another piece behind my ear. Or between my toes. Or once in my belly button?" Koa tugs at his shirt without thinking, the motion stretching it taut enough to reveal the slight indents of his navel and washboard abs.

His smile widens when Theea accepts the invitation, copper eyes crinkling playfully as he gives the dummy a sympathetic pat. "Better luck next time, Woodrolemew." Swinging his arm off Woody's shoulder, Koa follows Theea toward a more open portion of the training ground, stretching as he goes. "Never too late to get back into the habit," he chirps brightly, rocking up to the balls of his feet as they come to a stop.

With the ease of someone who's been in training since the moment he could walk Koa drops into a ready position: knees slightly bent to allow for movement, hands raised and ready to cover his face. "So where's home for you?" he asks conversationally, waiting for her to assume the position before striking out with a light, almost playful warm-up jab.

'cause I think you're so good
and I'm nothing like you

Koa

Theea

I bark out a laugh at the belly button comment, shaking my head. “I didn’t even think to check there.” I give his abs a quick, exaggerated glance before I look away again, grinning to myself as I finish the last loop of my braid and tie it off with a ribbon.

When he follows me to the open space, I roll my shoulders, stretching my arms as I listen. “Torchline’s home now,” I tell him, stepping into place. “Though I grew up everywhere on the road. Been bouncing from there to Halo a little, getting used to the idea I can go wherever I want.”

I plant my feet, knees soft, hands coming up the way my mom taught me — loose but ready. “You local?” I ask, just before his jab comes in.

I shift to the side and let it slip past, more out of surprise than skill, and give him a mock-offended look. “Starting without warning?” My grin sharpens as I move in, aiming a light jab of my own toward his shoulder — testing the waters before the real bout begins.

there is defiance in being a d r e a m e r