Sasha slept fitfully. Master Rokan had always been cordial with her, but even he had refused to train her. Not even Master Noela, who was one of the few female masters, had wanted to take them on. They were too concerned about the politics of training a Suter girl against the family's will. Now, her mother would be asking someone to train her. Would Master Rokan's successor agree to the task? It was just for a week... but it was a week where her mother would approve of her training. Maybe Deleana would even come and watch her train. Never had Sasha had so many mixed feelings about the morrow in her life! Why, now that she was getting what she wanted, was she so restless? Was it having to meet with men of her mother's choosing? No, that wasn't it. Sasha could handle a couple of boring dinners and walks in the park. She could be social, if she wanted to. In fact, she would have done a lot more to have the opportunity to train with the masters. Maybe she could use this as a way to bargain with her mother. Master Noela in exchange for etiquette lessons.

Sasha giggled at the absurdity of the thought of negotiating with her mother.

Then her thoughts turned to Orion and the exchange that they had this morning. She had tested a hypothesis, and got a troublesome result. Orion faltered when she imitated the fighting style of another, and as much as she wanted to push the implications of that aside, her mind dwelled on it.

The style of fighting she had mimicked was Tessa Cerbi's. Tessa was fluent with swordplay, but like many fighters who preferred a weapon, she tended to wield all other weapons like her sword.

The Suters were trained to read body movement, so Orion would have sensed Sasha's change in style as clearly as if she had shouted Tessa's name, perhaps this language was even clearer than words. Why had Orion's defences cracked wide open when he was reminded of Tessa? Why, oh, why, oh, why?

Eventually, she fell asleep.

A second before there was a knock on the door, Sasha sat up in her bed. Her body sensed the presence of urgency, even before her mind could comprehend it. She looked at the time wand standing in its ornate casing on her bedside table. The position of the glittery line roughly a third of the way down the length of the wand indicated that it was the ninth hour of the morning.

The fast and angry knocking began before Sasha reached the door. She yanked it open to see old Patch looking less than fresh. He had hurried to come here.

"Who died and made you messenger?" Sasha asked with a lazy grin.

"The orchard was the wrong place for me to be this morning, apparently," Patch growled. "Did none of the maids wake you?"

Sasha shook her head.

"Well, no use crying over spilt milk. Get dressed quick. You've kept your tutor waiting for long enough."

Tutor? A moment later, the pieces clicked into place.

"Training!" she cried. "Training starts this morning? Why did no one say? Why did no one wake me?"

She hurried to dress, leaving Patch at the door.

"Decency, girl!" he roared, before shutting her door. "Gods help him, he's in the training hall!" Sasha heard his heavy foot stalk off.

She donned a training shirt she had stolen from Orion. It was a sleeveless wrap around that she secured with a high belt. She paired it with a pair of dark pants which she had also obtained, courtesy of her brother. It was the attire of the men of her house. Suter women did not have training attire. She had to modify the position of the belt so that her... bits... were well secured.

Sasha ran through the house, nimbly dodging surprised servants and inanimate objects. She burst out through the door of the east wing of the house and danced along the path down to the training hall. Her hair, she realized too late, was unbound and wild.

Today, the panels of the training room were wide open, so anyone in it would have seen her haphazard approach. Sasha searched the hall and breathed a sigh of relief. There was only a young man in the hall; likely the apprentice of the master who was brought to help demonstrate techniques. She felt relief knowing that she had not kept the master waiting.

She slowed her steps as she entered the training hall. The young man wore a slight frown and unremarkable clothes made of rough, undyed cotton. His level, blue-grey eyes studied Sasha as she likewise made her assessments about him. His hair was a wavy dark brown cropped at the ears. The man's posture was relaxed yet solid – it was the way Sasha knew Master Rokan to stand. All the Suters agreed that Rokan had been a hard man to read. She had seen the old master dispatch an opponent without the slightest indication that he was ready for a fight.

Her heart sang at the thought of training in the style. Learning to look relaxed while ready to strike was invaluable. She absentmindedly twisted her hair and tucked it down the back of her shirt. It would have to do for now. She had no hair ties on her person.

"Good morning," Sasha said with a smile and extended hand. "I'm Sasha Suter."

The man shook her hand, but his manner was rather cold, and the exchange was brief.

"I'm Master Mortimer," he said. His voice was like the calm before a storm. "I've been asked by Lady Suter to train you in the moving meditation of the Fin Kingdom."

"Mmmm?" Sasha continued to smile absently. She must have misheard. "Where is Master Mortimer?"

His eyes narrowed, "I am Master Mortimer."

"No, no, I mean, where is Master Rokan's successor?"

The young master took a step forward so that he was toe to toe with Sasha. Before she knew it, before she could comprehend what he had done, she found herself lying on her back against the cold wooden floor, with Mortimer standing over her.

Her head swam. What had just happened? Why hadn't there been any indication in his body of a fight? More importantly, how did he step right up to her without alarm bells going off in her mind?

Mortimer looked over his nose at the fallen girl. "If there's one thing I hate more than entitled people, Miss Sasha, it is entitled people wasting my time." Sasha could almost see frost with his words.

She shivered and rolled to her feet, every fibre in her body ready for the next attack. She wanted to snap at him, telling him that she was not some spoilt, undisciplined brat with a fleeting interest in martial pursuits, but... well, that would only prove his point, wouldn't it?

The next attack never came. Instead, Mortimer took a deliberate step back and sat down placidly as though he had not just bypassed Sasha's defences. He crossed his legs and rested his hands, palms up, on his knees.

"Sit," he instructed.

Sasha sat warily. The young man's body seemed perfectly at ease and unguarded. But she had just experienced firsthand how deceptive that peace was. She tried to match his tranquil air, and failed. The loose tendrils of hair tickled her collarbone and brushed her face. Her heart was still pounding in her ears and her face felt hot enough to cook an egg. She took a deep breath that was wobblier than she would have liked, but it did do the job of easing back the rush she felt. The urge to punch Mortimer in the face still remained.

He's a master! He's proved that much! Sasha chided herself. Show him some respect.

"Today we're going to learn the basics of meditation," Mortimer said.

"I know how to meditate," Sasha snapped.

That was the opposite of respect, that same reproachful voice inside her pointed out.

She took another deep breath, and managed to say with some meekness, "I know how to meditate, Master Mortimer. I was hoping we could do some moving meditation."

Mortimer's eyes flashed. His body retained the same serene posture, but there was a note of challenge in his voice when he said, "all I know at the moment is that you know how to talk."

Sasha bit her tongue and shut her eyes. She would show him!

At first, the anger and humiliation she felt was almost too much. But, with each deep breath, Sasha felt herself calm down. One of their uncles had taught Orion how to meditate, and then Orion had imparted the knowledge onto Sasha. He told her to start by listening to her breath, and then draw her attention to the pool of energy in her abdomen.

Sasha felt herself sink down inside herself, to that ever-present power within. To her, the power had always manifested with a flame-like quality. Today, she fanned the flame until it engulfed her whole body in a satisfying blaze.

I know how to meditate, she validated.

She sat there for what felt like a requisite amount of time before she opened her eyes. Her need for approval was greeted by unimpressed eyes. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled at the thought that Mortimer had been staring at her this entire time. All the nice calm she had cultivated evaporated in a second, leaving her with the taste of her heartbeat in her throat. She swallowed.

"Is that the extent of your training in meditation?" he asked. His dismay was clear in his tone.

Sasha sagged. She had blown it. Not only did she keep a master waiting, but then she had offended him further by not acknowledging him. Then, she apparently could not even meditate. Mortimer must think her to be completely feckless. Once word got around, no master would ever train her.

"Yes, Master Mortimer," Sasha mumbled.

Something changed in the man at her words. He sat up ever so slightly straighter and oriented his body slightly forward. It was the first read that Sasha had got from his body all morning. He seemed... pleased? What had just happened?

"There are five elements that form the basis of moving meditation," Mortimer said.

Sasha sucked on her tongue to stop herself from correcting him. There were only four elements.

"Fire, earth, metal, water and wood," he listed when she didn't interrupt.

"What about air?" Sasha asked.

His face lit up with a smile at her question. The ice around him seemed to thaw a bit leaving him looking even younger than before. He could not have been much older than Sasha. She wondered how he had become a master at this age. What had Rokan seen in him?

"Air is the substance that flows within and between them all," he said. "It unifies and separates each element. When you're only fluent with one element, there's no need to involve air. But once you start to learn how to contain the other elements, then air becomes more involved. It will allow you to hold two, and eventually all the elements simultaneously, achieving the balance that is at the core of meditation."

"And the moving part? When do we get to the moving part?"

"Your body will move with the element," Mortimer said with a mysterious smile.

Sasha was mentally scratching her head. A moment ago, the young master had been so distant, and now, he was actually emoting pleasant things. What had changed? Having had enough of the luck-pushing today, Sasha kept quiet on the matter. The man looked kind when he wasn't cold, and Sasha felt herself warming to him too.

"Yes, Master," she said with a hesitant smile of her own.

Mortimer nodded. "Let's begin."

Apparently, the energy within could be shaped to feel like something other than fire. This was news to Sasha. Mortimer guided her through meditation on imagery that shaped the pool inside her to feel like Earth, then Metal, then Water. She was a bit wobbly on her grasp of Metal, and did not get the feeling of Water at all. She said as much to the young man, but even without her saying, the frustration had been plain on her face.

"I'm not surprised," he said, not unkindly. "You're very familiar with the Fire Element. But Water is completely different from Fire. It is cold and wet whereas Fire is warm and dry. It is as far removed from what you're comfortable with as elements get. To shape your internal energies to something that is completely foreign to you will take practice."

Sasha sighed. Though they had done nothing but sit all session, exhaustion was claiming her just as quickly as if she had spent the whole morning running at a sprint. She resisted the urge to flop onto the wooden floor.

"Let's end the session here," Mortimer said. He was ever perceptive. Though he was still young, Sasha was beginning to see how he might really be a master. "You did better than I thought."

A hot puff of pride welled inside Sasha.

"I'm a Suter," she said. "We eat martial arts for breakfast."

Mortimer's eye twitched. "In that case, your progress wasn't that impressive at all."

Authors Note Without the Author

Emron: *glances shiftily around to make sure that he won't be interrupted* Fear not, oh maiden connoisseurs of romance. While my lady is preoccupied in the training hall, I have whipped up a tasty chapter of romance for you all next. There will be flowers. She will be wooed.

Orion: What are you doing whispering in the corner, Emron?