Unbind me

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Seraphina Sterling
"my life was never about living, it was always about surviving"

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The next morning came faster than I expected. The soft knock on the door told me Nova was already here.

I slipped on my boots and opened it to find her leaning casually against the wall, her arms crossed, posture relaxed. She wore the same black uniform as the day before, her braid hanging over one shoulder, and her expression unreadable—though there was something softer in her eyes today.

"You ready?" she asked.

I nodded once. "Yeah."

We didn't speak much on the way to the training room. But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. With Nova, it never really was. Her presence felt like it held enough weight to fill the space on its own, like she never needed to say much for you to know what she was thinking.

When we got inside, the lights were already on and the mats cleared. A few of the heavier objects we'd used yesterday were stacked in the corner, but today the room felt open, intentional.

Nova turned to me and clapped her hands once. "Alright. We're not doing powers yet today. We're doing basics—stances, balance, learning how not to get thrown across the room when someone bigger comes at you."

She paused, her lips twitching like she might smile.

"Which, around here, happens a lot."

I exhaled slowly, trying to push the nerves out with the breath. "Okay. Just... tell me what to do."

She nodded, stepping into position, motioning for me to mirror her. "First thing—your stance. Keep your feet shoulder-width apart, knees loose, center of gravity low. You need to be able to move fast, but stay grounded."

I followed, copying the way she shifted her weight from foot to foot, the way her hands stayed up by her face, relaxed but ready.

Then she came toward me, slow at first. Testing. She pushed lightly against my shoulder. I stumbled.

"Okay," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Not bad. Let's fix that."

For the next hour, she showed me how to stay steady, how to read movement, how to pivot without falling off balance. Her movements were clean, sharp, precise. I was clumsy by comparison—too slow, too stiff—but she didn't say that. She just kept correcting me with patient, quiet guidance.

"Don't overthink it," she said after I hesitated during a block. "Your body knows more than you think. Trust it."

I tried.

And slowly, I got better.

By the end, sweat clung to the back of my neck and my breath came a little harder, but I was still standing. Still grounded. Still trying.

Nova stepped back, nodding once. "That was solid. You're learning fast."

"Thanks," I said, chest still rising and falling from effort. "That was... kind of fun."

She gave me a rare smile—small but real. "Told you it would be."

Then she jerked her head toward the hallway. "Let's grab food. I'll walk with you this time. Too many people in the hall can be a nightmare after a session like this."

I followed her gratefully.

We ended up taking the same route back to the training room, plates in hand, steam still curling from the food. It was quieter this way. Easier. No eyes. No chatter. Just the two of us walking in step through the sterile hallways, the hum of the lights overhead the only sound.