“Good. Twist, like this. It will give more power to your strike.”

Pa held a wooden dummy on four legs. He’d taught me the soft points on most animals and the places that were typically less protected.

Right behind the shoulder. The back of the neck where the spine met the head. The eyes, and strangely, the nose. He said the nose is quite sensitive.

He said I got lucky when I shoved my knife into the wolf. The wolf got away, but apparently I almost nicked the artery beneath its neck.

“I wish I would’ve killed it,” I hissed under my breath.

Pa grew still where he was showing a pressure point on the foot. He turned to me, his eyes filled with a pain I’d never before seen.

They swirled with it. The longer I stared into his eyes, the more I almost felt his pain like a knife in my gut. It roiled with a mix of guilt and sorrow and something I couldn’t name at the time. Now I know it to be a terrible hole where a piece of your soul used to be.

“Aria, come with me,” he said, turning to trail into the woods behind the barn.

I looked over my shoulder at our home across the browning pastures. Then I turned and followed him into the woods.

Dad never missed a chance to train. He said the best warrior is prepared at all times.

And he took that to heart. Such that I never saw him without a dagger he could have in hand at a moment's notice.

And when I popped into the woods, he’d already disappeared.

I sighed, not really in the mood for one of his lessons.

But I knew he wouldn’t let me ride into town with him the coming market day if I slacked off.

I bent down, letting my eyes filter out the most likely paths. And... there.

A tiny impression beside rocky ground that wouldn’t leave prints.

I followed a trail of tiny giveaways, my eyes roving the forest loam. I crossed a bubbling brook, a downed tree, and came to a fork with tracks leading down both.

One way led deeper into the wood. The other circled until it came to a little duck spring that glowing, frog-like creatures visited. It was one of Pa's favorite places.

If he wanted to throw me off, he would’ve taken the trail that led deeper into the woods. But I have a feeling the pond is his destination.

My neck prickled, and I jumped forward just in time to avoid being struck by the hard end of a staff.

I twisted and rolled, wincing when my back struck against a rock. But I popped back up and turned… and Pa was already gone. I sighed, my shoulders slumping. These games were fun in the beginning, but they were becoming less and less fun now.

I just wanted to go play with Grandma at the lake. Maybe go for a swim.

Something smacked against my back, and I jumped forward, swinging around with a hasty swipe with my knife that hit only air.

“Keep your mind sharp, little cub.” The voice came from behind me, and I swung around, trying to pinpoint his presence.

I saw it then. A glimpse of something struggling in the pond. I hadn’t realized Pa had herded me here.

I stepped forward, and some instinct made me leap forward, barely avoiding another swipe at my back. I felt the displaced air, but when I turned, I could see nothing.

I turned back to the pond, and there was a wolf, caught in one of our many traps. She was tiny, couldn’t be more than a pup that came almost up to my knee, and was scrawny with her ribs and hips showing despite the winter fur still covering her body as winter gave way to spring. She whimpered, tugging on the wire digging into her back foot. Her fur was the white of snow and she had dainty little ears with tufts of fur that reminded me of some exotic cats I’d seen in a show in Risia once. A lynx, I think they were called.

The wolf pulled against the wire, red staining the surrounding fur.

I eased up closer. “Easy, girl. It’s alright. I’ll release you,” I said, steady and cajoling.

Her head darted around, her eyes glowing red with fear and pain. A growl rumbled in her chest.

But it was the teeth that stopped me in my tracks.

She had two saber teeth that curled at her jaw. She was a Timber Wolf. She was the enemy.

I stepped back, watching her. She growled, but they were interspersed with whimpers as she crawled as far from me as she could. She was young and innocent, but she would likely grow into a killer just like the Timber Wolf I had fought.

I should kill her. It may prevent deaths in the future.

I pounced, pushing her neck into the ground even as she tried to snap at me. She whimpered, then went still. Her eye faded from red to brown, and she gave a soft sigh that sounded almost like a breath of death. She met my gaze with intelligence that dwarfed anything I had ever known in an animal, even more than the animalistic joy of the Timber Wolf I had injured.

But as I eased my blade closer to her neck, my hand gripping my knife in a white-kicked grip… I found, looking into her eyes, that we were not so different. Each scared and at the mercy of something bigger than us. Each fighting to survive, trying to live in a world we don’t understand.

Trying. Always trying. And almost always failing.

And I wonder if even then I felt her as a kindred soul. Or perhaps my Gift linked us. All I knew was that she was me, looking up at her death with terror but… somehow... with bravery, too. She fought until she could fight no more, and then she looked up at me, knowing death was near and accepting it.

And I realized I could not do this. It made me no better than the Timber Wolf who had tried to kill me. This pup had done nothing to me or mine, and I had nearly killed her because of fear.

I cut the wire with my blade, and the pup whimpered, her whines high-pitched and filled with both fear and pain. It tugged at my heart.

I kept her pinned to the ground as I unwrapped the wire from her foot as gently as I could. It was bleeding, the skin almost torn through, but nothing seemed broken. I put a salve I kept on hand that Momma made to help it heal and prevent infection.

Once done, I quickly backed away to keep her from biting me.

She held still, her eyes tightly closed, as if disbelieving that she lived. Slowly, she got up, testing each foot and rising to all four legs, whimpering when she put weight on her hind leg.

The little wolf looked up at me, confusion in her big brown eyes as she pricked her ears at me. She glanced at the woods behind her, then back at me. She took a step toward me, and I panicked despite how her posture communicated open curiosity with no hint of aggression.

“Shoo! Get out of here before I change my mind,” I said, drawing myself up bigger and jabbing my knife at her.

She whimpered, ducking her head and darted into the woods, her tail the last thing to disappear as she fled in a limping gait into the wood.

I sat down on a log, staring at the place she had disappeared and remembering the look in her eye when she thought I was going to kill her. When I thought I would kill her.

Pa materialized from the forest and sat beside me, stretching out his legs and laying his bow staff beside him. I glared at the wood, feeling the bruises from the seemingly innocent object.

“Why did you let her go?” he asked, his voice soft, almost reverent.

I huffed and crossed my arms, turning away from him slightly.

But he waited. Eventually, I sighed and turned back to him. “I couldn’t kill her.”

He smiled, but it was a painful smile. But it was also filled with pride. In me. And that made me almost giddy despite how he’d set me up. “Little cub. You chose not to kill. You are not a killer at heart, but a bringer of life and light. Promise me you won’t become something else. Someone else.” He looked at me, his eyes drilling into my own until I looked away and picked at the wood peeling from the log.

“What do you mean, Pa?” I asked, almost too softly for him to hear.

He turned my chin so I’d look at him. “Promise me you won’t become a killer. I am training you to guard, to protect, and to heal. Not to kill. Promise me.”

I nodded, my eyes growing wide at the intensity on his face. “I promise, Papa.”

He kissed my forehead, drawing me into his strong arms that always made me feel safe and warm. “That’s my girl. I am so proud of you.”

My heart felt it might burst with happiness. But then I pulled back, pouting.

“Why’d you test me like that?” I said, trying to glare at him.

He grinned. “Nothing gets past you, eh, little cub? I had to be sure. I felt your heart was pure, but I needed to know. Your true training begins tomorrow. It will be hard, Aria. And what I train will lead to paths of sorrow and pain. Are you sure you want to follow my path into the world of darkness and fighting for even the barest scrap of light?”

I bit my lip, looking over where the little pup had disappeared to. And I remembered the Timber Wolf that attacked me, and how Pa was always gone and trying to ensure his family’s safety, even if that meant he must suffer for it.

He may have thought I didn’t see the way his eyes sometimes get a faraway look and he doesn’t respond to us calling for him. He thought I didn’t hear his screams as he dreamed, or how he went into the woods for hours at a time when he got back from his missions. I’ve noticed. I’ve seen.

I followed him once, and saw him punching a tree until his knuckles were bleeding, and then he cried.

I had never seen my father cry. He was so big and brave and strong. But at that moment, seeing him leaned against a tree with his posture slumped as if the weight of the world had become too much for him to bear and his face screwed up in silent agony, I realized he wasn’t so perfect after all. But it made me love him all the more.

And I wanted to be just like him.

“Yes, Papa. This is what I want.”

He looked at me, but his face softened at something he saw on my own. “No matter what, you know I love you, right, little cub?”

I grinned. “Always and forever, Papa Bear,” I replied.

He laughed and tickled me, and for the rest of the evening we sat and talked and watched the world go by in our little bubble of happiness.